Laxmi
My life has been full of adventures and being an outgoing personality with a ‘curious as a cat’ nature, I always ended up having interesting conversations with strangers. This is the story of a wonderful human being with a heart wrenching journey that will bring a smile on your face in the end.
Mumbai Local – the lifeline of the bustling city – was also part of my daily commute during my college days back in 2005. I travelled from Borivali Station to Mahim where my college was located and each day was a new adventure indeed. It is a known fact among the regulars, that the majority of us would stick to a particular train every day and eventually have ‘train friends/buddies’ just like we made ‘BEST Bus friends/buddies’ and just like we had ‘Sharing Rickshaw Stand friends/buddies’.
There were unspoken rules while commuting via any of Bombay’s public transport systems. The local train of course has its own unique set of such rules. These rules though, are for another story, another book, another day. Let’s dive right into today’s protagonist – our glorious Laxmi!
I never tried to grab a seat in the overcrowded, overflowing local trains. I was a wild one. I had quickly learnt to stand on a few square inches of space in the corner of the bogie entrance with just the tip of my foot on it and one hand grabbing the side handles of the door. I would hang outside the train completely, clutching my nearly 10kg bag filled with my engineering books and tools.
The wind would slap at my face between each station as the train picked up speed and this vantage point meant I never had to get off the train completely when it halted at each station. I simply had to swing to the side of the train and hold on like Batman or Spiderman would have, till the entry exit chaos got over and the train started moving again.
As I lived a thrilling ride every day and travelled this way, oblivious to the risks involved, I noticed a saree clad woman would always get on a few stations after mine and hang on to the other end of the door like me. I was intrigued because she looked as fearless as me – but she also had to take care of her flowing saree and gajra and make-up etc. along with a very cute bright red handbag clutched under her arm.
We both would rhythmically perform our dance like ballet performers at each station – carefully swinging around the door’s edge, to let frustrated middle class women get in and out of the train. They used their elbows to roughly make their way through the sea of sweaty blouses and wilting gajras.
One day in the middle of our Mumbai Local Ballet Performance – our eyes met and she flashed a brilliant smile at me and asked,
“Beta – bara ka?” All Ok? in Marathi.
To which I nodded with the best swag I could come up with and a “Yo baby!” and a wink. We both were sporting cheap oversized sunglasses that day and felt nothing less than a Bollywood heroine as we lowered our glasses to share the winks!
Soon, we started looking out for each other at each station and made sure we were back on the footboard safely and in time. Generally, a few more stations later, the majority of the crowd would get off and the bogie would be nearly empty till our destination. This is when we would stand comfortably at the door now and close enough to start conversations for about 15 minutes daily.
I finally noticed her scent, her slick hair neatly styled into a bun, decorated with pretty hair pins and lots of mogra flowers. She always wore red lipstick and carried a red handbag. When she got to know I am a student, she was angry that I travelled by footboard everyday, but she also knew it was far more difficult to get inside the bogie during rush hours with my huge college bag. Many times, ladies would cluck cluck and complain my bag is taking up too much space and keep taunting me to travel in the luggage compartment.
She naturally became very protective of me like a mother would and suddenly started monitoring the door at all stations. She made sure I was always having enough space to grab on and hang properly and safely. Of course I meant safety as per Mumbai Local standards of safety!
I told her all about me, my family, my cats, my friends in college, how I get punished every day by teachers, my boyfriend I just broke up with ‘cause he had slapped me and so on. She would listen to me intently with sparkling eyes and an unwavering smile and sometimes even gave me valuable advice on boys! After many months of travelling together, I finally noticed other passengers.
They would always keep a distance from us. I felt odd that most of them stared at us in disgust. I was not sure why and usually wrote it up to the fact that we travelled on the footboard and it made them angry. They were always ready with tsk tsk and expressions of disapproval.
On a slightly rainy day, we decided to speak about her instead – her name is Laxmi, she stays far away near Kurla and comes every day to Andheri in and around the Chinai College neighbourhood. She did not explain to me her nature of work though. She had befriended many students from this college too and she started sharing funny couple stories of students and their break ups or teenage romance and anything that could potentially make me laugh. She would always tell me this one line with a blush –
“Aapko haste dekhar mujhe bahut khushi hoti hai.”
And I would laugh extra hard to make her happy and gush even more.
Some months later, one fine day, she wasn’t on the train. This was normal, we did miss our regular trains often. A few days passed and she was still not turning up. Finally, I started taking a seat once the bogie got empty instead of waiting at the door. The women who travelled regularly started smirking at me and soon gathered the courage to ask me directly –
“Beta, tumhara woh chakka dost nahi aaya?” To which the whole bogie laughed!
I was confused. Chakka? I wondered who they were referring to? You see, a lot of Chakkas or Eunuchs in India do not have the privilege and recognition as normal human beings. They are looked down upon, not given employment, ridiculed and looked at as someone to stay far away from, almost criminals. They are invited only to shower blessings when babies are born and nearly all of them have to resort to begging at traffic signals and inside local trains. This is despite the fact that many are able bodied and educated to work just like most other people in Bombay and India at large.
But I had not noticed any eunuchs coming in this particular train to beg with their signature claps to gain attention. I ignored the question and kept looking out at each station for Laxmi. Finally, after two whole weeks of painful waiting, she appeared! She looked quite upset but she tried her best to smile at me. We were waiting till we reached the station where the bogie got empty and we could chat close up.
Finally, I rushed to her and gave her a warm hug which startled her and everyone else in the compartment. I suggested that we take a seat today and catch up instead of hanging at the door. She said,
“Hum ko baithna allowed nahi hai.” and I laughed thinking some funny joke was coming my way. But it did not.
When I pressed to go inside, she finally gave out a loud sigh and her shoulders dropped. She looked at me in all earnesty and asked,
“Kya tumhe sacchi nahi pata ki mai ek…ki mai… chakka hun”? I laughed out so hard that it made her angry. “Tumhe yeh mazzak kag raha hai?”
I was very innocent back then and I saw the world without much prejudice as I wasn’t yet coloured by the society’s version of right and wrong, thankfully! I told her of course I know she is not a woman by her body. She was nearly 6 feet tall, built like a tank and her muscles glistened with her sweat and she had abs underneath her saree drapes. Her shoulders were so wide, I could dry clothes on them. As I explained her masculine features to her in a very funny broken Marathi-Hindi combo, her face changed so many colours and finally settled for red in the end. She was embarrassed and I could not understand why.
She was taken aback that I knew all along she was a transgender woman but, why had I never treated her any differently then? So many emotions flashed across her face. When I used the word ‘transgender’, her eyes lit up because I did not call her a Chakka! I asked her when she was planning to get her sex change operation done. I made sure that I was having this conversation as loudly as possible.
This has always been my way of handling taboo topics in public. I would carry my sanitary napkins openly. If any girl would whisper around the office too embarrassed to ask for napkins, I would pass it openly. In fact, if there were boys in between, I would ask them to pass it too. While it is always met with absolute shock, embarrassment and mumbles in the beginning, eventually the boys started feeling proud of themselves! And the girls started feeling less ashamed talking about periods or asking for sanitary pads openly.
Coming back to the train compartment, I had visibly made every set of eyes peering at us as uncomfortable as they could have been in their entire lives. Laxmi was so overwhelmed that she had no idea how to handle the situation.
I spoke out loudly, “You have been my friend, a sister and a motherly figure, a caretaker on this train for months now. You have been the nicest lady amongst the sea of women who travel with us every day. You have been more of a woman than anyone else I have met in recent years!
You dress so beautifully, I love your blouse designs. I love your hairstyles and your pretty hair pins. You smell so good with that hint of jasmine. Your lipstick is always on point and despite having the broadest shoulders, you have the gentlest touch when you hold me during the chaos at each station.
I do not believe there is anything for you to be ashamed of and you deserve to sit here in the ladies compartment as much as any of us!”
That day we also had the company of two lady constables and they suddenly started clapping at my little speech. Nearly all the other women in the compartment simply looked down at their feet as I held Laxmi’s hand and dragged her inside to catch a window seat. We sat opposite each other and continued to hold hands as this nearly 6 feet tall woman trapped inside the body of a man was still trembling from the whole episode that had just taken place!
After a few sips of water and more smiles and reassuring hand presses from me, she calmed down. And then began her story of how she struggled all her childhood inside a body that felt alien to her. And the whole journey till the day of realisation that she does not identify herself as a man and feels like she was supposed to be born a woman. The details of Laxmi’s journey are again for another day, another book, another story.
However, the happiest moment wasn’t that day. It was the day after when some of the women kept seats for both of us once the bogie got empty and even shared their special tiffins made for the train journey with Laxmi and I. One lady offered her a fresh gajra made of special flowers to Laxmi. A grandmother even told me how proud she was of me and hoped that the future was in the able hands of my generation.
Laxmi and I spent our train journeys together for a few more semesters till I had to change my train schedule as per my new class schedule and we gradually lost touch. Till date, I miss her dearly and hope that she got the operation that was holding her back from living her life to the fullest. She wanted to start a homemade tiffin service for working women. I hope she achieved all her dreams and some more! I hope she found love too and is married and maybe has her own lovely family too. Someday, may our paths cross again.
Laxmi made me believe that being a woman was not exactly a birth right but it was in our actions and thoughts too that made us women and even before that – a good human being.
As I write this story for the world to read, it is the pride month – June 2021. I hope more and more Laxmis get the respect they deserve, the opportunities they are equally eligible for and the love they never received.
LGBTQ+ – let there be no boxes and boundaries to define gender. Let us try to be human first! Let us spread love faster than hatred. Let us not fear what we do not yet know. Let us make an attempt to reach out and understand before we make up our minds. Let us bring back the kindness this world needs desperately amidst one of the darkest periods, given the ongoing pandemic.
If you are reading this and you are not sure which box to check your identity as, you can leave it open too. I hope my love reaches you and holds you on the toughest days.
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