TWO CONFLICTING SIDES OF MUMBAI

          Have you ever wondered that the 120 seconds that you are trapped in, during a traffic signal can be one of the most reflective periods of your life!? Waiting at the infamous signals that our city overwhelmingly brims with, I had a similar experience as such. Staring at the number of people our city seems to carry with itself on a mundane basis, my thoughts were unabashedly interrupted by an audible thud on my taxi window. The classic mauve lipstick complimenting the garland bunch along with a saree blinded by shimmer, someone stood out there spreading a wide grin and slapping their palms together. I rolled down the window to hand out a coin, silently hoping my following flight would be smooth one, considering a nervous flyer that I am. Little did I know that this brief encounter of mine would open the floodgates of my resident overthinker.

So the next 120 seconds my grey cells kept thinking, “Aamchi Mumbai” a phrase this magnanimous city seems to adorn with pride. Snugged around the ocean's side the “undying spirit” of Mumbai is what we Mumbaikars swear by. As far as the tides of my memory have taken me, be it the 26/11 or the 2004 Tsunami, Mumbai has never failed to pace up and back itself. With renowned vigour we have struck the cord to maintain it’s coveted spirit. How does it feel to belong to this imperial heritage, vast cultural diversity and spirit of that of a free bird? But is the feeling mutual for all the ones residing in this giant metropolitan?

There seems to exist a blurred community living in the bylanes of this city, a community often considered to be blessed with the power of curse and well as good luck. A single encounter with them at every signal of the city and a trail of hushed tones that lingers thereafter. A community revered by our rich history is the same one that faces hostility in this 21st century.. Addressing the elephant in the room, the community is none other than the Transgender community of Mumbai infamously claimed as the “Hijras.”

Dwelling up the dunes of time, as the famous Hindu mythology is scripted, Lord Rama during his period of exile before dwelling in the woods instructed all the men and women following him to return back to their abodes. There remained a few who were neither women nor men. They stayed back at the same place for 14 years later, waiting for their almighty. Pleased by their loyalty and indomitable faith, the Hijras were blessed by Lord Rama with the power of curse and luck. One of the incarnations of Lord Shiva made him merge into his wife Parvati to become monogamous. Along with the Hindu mythology even the in the Islamic rule back then the hijras did enjoy mighty positions of authority and affluence. What made a community so handsomely basking in the historic past be reduced to a “conflicting” side of Mumbai today?

The one story that I vividly recall upon today that left the premises of my soul shattered till date, is  that of Durga, a transgender been born into a upper middle class family of Mumbai. At the mere age of 3, when most of the children of Durga's age are the treasured jewels to their parents, Durga was abandoned near the garbage dump in the city outskirts. Fearing the social stigma and hostility that she would bring upon the family. A hunger driven young Durga soon made her way into the prostitution world. That has been her life thereafter. Staring numbly at her mutilated self over all these years,  Durga says, “this isn’t  even close to the agony of a three year old child who hoped against hope that her parents would come back one day.” Durga is 35 now and she stills trods her way near the dump hoping that day might be today. In Mumbai there are thousands of Durgas who are forced into dirt of poverty and prostitution supplemented by social stigma and divulging  by their own blood.

As the famous Greek mythology goes, “a phoenix rises from it’s ashes.” There have been some phenomenal phoenix rising from the ashes of denial, rejection, hatred and above all deprivation of basic human rights. From Laxmi, being the first transgender to represent Asia Pacific at the UN to Shaba, being the first transgender solider, to name a few. They being the ones who have broken the shackles of the society pinning them down.

I wonder why being differently genetically engineered demands one to break the shackles to carve a ordinary revered occupation for themselves. Nobody blamed the divine creator for this? Nor the mighty British colonial rule that constituted the Sec 377?

What made the abyss between them and us? What made them stand at the threshold of a “conflicting side.”

At times like these, I ponder upon what Laxmi had said in her famous UN addressal, “I wish people were more human like today.”

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the deafening honks and verbal abuses that form the dialect of the city drivers. I realized in these 120 seconds I managed to dig the parts of my grey cells that I never knew were capable of such thinking. Nevertheless on reaching the airport, paying off the Uber and heading towards my flight the nervous flyer beneath me over took and my panic started  to take the better side. Seating comfortably near the window I gave a silent prayer to the universe that partially involved my ancestors regarding the flight's safety. My prayer was soon interrupted by a deep husky voice, “hello ma’am, a little bit a sugar always helps a nervous flyer, please have some.” I hesitated initially to which the stranger replied, “Don’t worry ma’am, we transgenders are capable of no harm.”