On the streets of Mumbai.
That’s where I was for almost a week. On a soul search. On a hunt for knowledge. And in the process I met an amazing group of people who just wanted acceptance and understanding. Something I have been craving for most of my life too. You see I’ve been under the misconception that I am the most misunderstood person on the planet. People just misunderstand the things I say and do. In the case of these people, their very existence is misunderstood.
They are technically three groups of people; transgenders, kothis and hijras. Now I’m not going to get into a technical definition of them. Please refer Wikipedia or some other trusted online source for that.
I’m more concerned about telling you about how wonderful they are. How I fell in love with them in seconds of meeting them on the dirty streets of Mumbai. Of how we shopped together and laughed together like silly girls. Of how we ate in precarious street side eateries together, chatting like old friends. Of how one of them, a hijra guru at that, told me that she instinctively took to me because I was straightforward with her instead of staring at her like she was a freak of nature. And then she proceeded to eat very little, telling me that she needs to watch her figure. I burst out into a peal of laughter. And you know what? She didn’t slap me. She laughed with me at her own silliness. And then she winked at me. A wink that would have put the likes of Brad Pitt to shame.
And about how I got the best deals in town for my new shoe collection, which upon unpacking made me think I could give Imelda Marcos a run for it. I got them for about 20% of the asking price simply because one of my Hijra friends were standing next to me and threatening the shop keeper or street hawker with the dreaded curse of the Hijra which everyone fears like the kiss of death. There’s more of how I walked along the crowded streets with a group of them and watched everyone nod or bow respectfully because they were more powerful than Uncle Mervin’s thugs.
They laughed with me when I leaned in to kiss them goodnight and found rough stubble on some of their cheeks. One hugged me spontaneously when I told her that I felt we were already friends in a matter of hours. She promptly proceeded to take my phone number and promised to bombard me with calls. After all, once you’re friends you do call eachother and keep in touch.
They are a magical group of people. And I’m not just talking about traditional Hijra magic.They radiate a sense of being about them in their every move, from their shiny saris that dance in the lights on the streets and jingly jewellery to their garishly perfect make-up and beautiful smiles that light up their faces, silently telling me that they are genuinely happy to have known me. And I too am happy to have known and moved among them for a few days. It’s opened my eyes to something about myself that I am proud of. They’re nice people and I like them. That’s all that matters. I adore them for their colourful lifestyle and wonder why I have left the brighter parts of myself in some lonely closet corner. The loudest thing I did was to colour my hair red. And even then I caved in and dyed it black again when too many people started to glare at me in shock on the streets.
I am blessed to have met the apparently cursed tribe of Hijras and Kothis along my journey. I hope to return and renew my friendships with them someday. Who knows when that day will come though? I am blessed to have walked and talked with them for a while on my journey through life. On my journey to change the lives of people like them who aren’t afraid but are still cornered and spat on by the pseudo normative asses of this world simply because of two dirty little words called ignorance and intolerance.
Pooja, Manisha and Nitha. You are beautiful, magical people. Thank you for unforgettable memories on the streets of Mumbai. Simply because you are who you are, I feel blessed.
ඔයා ගැහැණියක් හින්දා ඒ ගොල්ලන්ව ආශ්රය කරන එක ගානක් නැතිව ඇති. ඒත් අනේ මන්දා මට නම් …… මම එහෙම ඔවුන්ව පහත් කරලා සලකනවා නෙමෙයි. ඔවුනුත් සමානව සැලකිය යුතු ජන කොට්ඨාශයක්. හැබැයි ඉතින් මට නම් අල්ලන්නෙම නෑ. මොනව කරන්නද සෑන්ඩ්විච්. සමහරවිට මම පිරිමියෙක් හින්දා වෙන්න ඇති.
Lost in romance – I appreciate your honesty. I used to think I wouldn’t take to them either. But as you rightly said they’re people too. And trust me, when you get to know them, you may change your opinion. They long and love and lust and hurt just like you and I. Who we chose to sleep with and how we wear our clothes shouldn’t matter when you look at it like that.
I luv the photo. Your work?
You speak hindi? And how does one just run into a close knit sub-culture / group like that and find acceptance? Surely You must have been introduced to them or they must have had some reason to interact with you?
Choknuti – I wish! It is a super photo though. Like an ass I forgot to take a camera with me to Mumbai.
Kavvz – my previous post explains all. I was on a regional workshop for South Asian LGBTIQ rights activists which is how I got to meet them.
I’m curious to know, do they consider themselves to have powers to bless or to curse?
Tennessee – I think it’s been an age old tradition. They’re thought of as witches in a sense. India is full of mysticism, so I wouldn’t be surprised it if it’s true.