March 5th 2001
One later
Vijay he now able to speak now he also thought of hiding his talent but he give up that idea because he is single heir of raj family.he should show his talent ,so he also knows many opportunities to make money although he now not lack of money but once you left behind by others it's hard to catch up so now he is still young can't play cricket so he wants to make achievement and gain points he also got annual gift package but he doesn't want open it so he wants to read and write finish .1 to 12th syllabus with his photographs memories it's very easy so decided learn until 1st birthday 29 February 2004.
So opened system pannel
He then click on priority pannel he saw
[Host name:vijay ]
[Age:1 years ]
[Birth date:29 February 2000]
[Iq:165]
[Physical fitness:5](normal adults physique is 10)
[Mind : 16](normal adults mind 10,
[Luck :max]
[Talent: Business [EX], cricket [EX]
[Buff: transmigratior,]
His strength increased by 1 points because transmigratior buff
Other all good
In a hall
A sound heard
It began with a sentence.
Not a cry. Not a babble. A sentence — clear, precise, and spoken with the weight of knowing.
"I want to learn to read."
He was barely a year old, sitting on a soft woolen rug in the vast nursery of the jay mansion. The marble walls stood silent, but the room itself seemed to pause, stunned by the voice that should not have existed in such clarity.
The words were directed at his nanny, who dropped the spoon she was feeding him with. For a moment, she stood frozen, eyes wide, unsure if her ears had tricked her. But the child before her did not blink with confusion or giggle like others might.
He looked at her, calm and serious — too serious for a child in silk pajamas with cheeks round from baby fat.
"I want to read," he repeated.
That was the moment the world around Vijay Jay began to change.
By one year and two months, Vijay was not just speaking — he was communicating with intent.
He asked for letters. He asked for paper. He pointed to books in his mother's private library, especially the bright-colored encyclopedias she used to decorate the nursery. His words came slow at first, not because he was learning, but because his body had yet to catch up with his mind.
Inside, he was a man. But his muscles were still those of a child.
When his mother, Rushein, first heard him say, "Teach me how to write," she knelt beside him with tears in her eyes.
"My little moon… who are you?" she whispered in Russian, holding his tiny hand.
He didn't answer — not because he couldn't, but because a strange lump had formed in his own throat. Even at this young age, he felt the love in her voice. Felt the gentleness she wrapped around him like a soft shawl. In his past life, no one had ever spoken to him like this.
Now they did. Now they listened.
By one and a half, Vijay could read and write the alphabet in English and Hindi. By two, he had memorized grammar rules in both languages and added Russian, thanks to his mother's casual bedtime lullabies. His pronunciation was eerily perfect. His vocabulary expanded each week, not from cartoons or rhymes, but from **classic literature, scientific texts**, and ancient Indian scriptures.
His photographic memory let him store and retrieve anything — names, definitions, diagrams, timelines — as clearly as if he were flipping through a living library inside his head.
Tutors were brought in, not to teach him in the usual way, but to test the boundaries of his mind.
There were no boundaries.
From ages two to four, Vijay's world was filled with knowledge. Each month, he devoured a new academic field, his small fingers flipping pages faster than most adults.
He solved arithmetic by the time he was two years and two months old.
He could do long division by two and a half.
By the age of three, he had covered the **entire mathematics syllabus from grades 1 to 12** — geometry, algebra, trigonometry, calculus. He not only understood it — he explained it back to his tutors with examples and analogies more elegant than anything found in textbooks.
Physics followed — then chemistry, biology, history, geography, economics, civics, and literature.
He read about tectonic plates and economic policy before other children learned how to color inside lines. He understood the French Revolution, the concept of entropy, photosynthesis, gravitational waves, the Indian Constitution, Shakespeare's sonnets, and computer programming basics **before his fourth birthday**.
His mind consumed **everything**, and in return, he gave back only one thing: curiosity.
He was never arrogant. Never impatient.
He was, in the purest form, **hungry*
By the time he turned four, his education — though only beginning — had already been grounded in **three unshakable pillars**:
1. **Memory** – His photographic memory allowed him to read once, understand deeply, and never forget. Dates, faces, formulas, quotes — all lived within him in perfect clarity.
2. **Comprehension** – Unlike some prodigies who simply recite, Vijay *understood*. He asked questions that made even senior professors pause. He analyzed patterns in history, found philosophical paradoxes in logic lessons, and explored why civilizations rise and fall — not just how.
3. **Discipline** – This was perhaps the rarest gift of all. Whether inherited from his father or cultivated from his past life, Vijay had the patience of a monk. He studied for hours. He exercised without complaint. He practiced posture, balance, speech, and memory **not for praise — but for perfection**
While his mind blossomed, his body was not left behind.
From age one, his father, Shivraj, had insisted that his son receive **daily physical training**, even if it was light. At first, it was baby stretches and crawling exercises. But as Vijay grew, the training became structured.
Walking early. Running with balance. Yoga for flexibility. Coordination drills with trainers. Basic calisthenics. Swimming. Tai chi.
By age four, his posture was straight, his balance near perfect, and his endurance astounding for his size. Though still small in body, he had the **discipline of a dancer and the composure of a swordsman**.
The staff whispered that he moved like a prince — slow, deliberate, watchful.
one in the jay household doubted his gift.
Shivraj, who rarely displayed emotion, watched his son from a distance at first. But slowly, as the months passed, he became more engaged. He began to spend evenings listening to Vijay explain political systems. He discussed ethics over dinner. He handed his son philosophy books in silence — and received insight in return.
One day, when Vijay was three and a half, he asked his father:
"Does power always require sacrifice?"
Shivraj looked at him for a long moment.
"Always," he said. "But sometimes the world is changed by those who find a way to **sacrifice less** — and still win."
Vijay nodded slowly. He understood.
Despite all his success, Vijay never forgot the boy he had once been.
A lonely orphan, with dreams that rotted in silence. A boy who stared at cricket posters, studied under flickering lights, and died without ever being heard.
Now, the world listened. And he vowed that he would use this second chance — not just to conquer knowledge, but to **reshape his destiny**.
Not yet through cricket.
Not yet through fame.
But through becoming the **most prepared mind of his generation**.
Three years pass like this
(Don't be rational because mc has all conditions how can we think normal but this is for entertainment purposes don't be narrow minded people if you don't like it give up book.)