There must be a reason why mother nature is slow and yet beautiful. The blooming of the flowers, the sprouting of plants, the cycles of weather, the passing of a colony of ants through your home, the stroll of an elephant through the jungle, the fluttering of a butterfly. It is when you realize the distance, compared to its size, a colony of ants covers to cross through your house, that you appreciate the enormity of the task. For some, the fluttering of butterflies is an instantaneous bliss, but only when you find patterns in its flight that you understand its real beauty. These were some of the many thoughts running through Nandini’s mind as she sat on one of the walls of Hauz Khas Fort to experience the sunset in front of her.
The velvet red of the Delhi Sky reflected in the waters of the Hauz Khas lake in front of her. Scores of people that walked around the lake and basked in the evening sun fertilized her cornucopian imagination, and she found herself in the year 1298, the Delhi of Alauddin Khilji. She could see thousands of men march in perfect unison with the drum beats. The commanders in charge of the task force lashed out whips at anybody who slacked even slightly. As one stone lay over the other, Nandini pictured the walls rising to the glory that they were supposed to have.
A loud sneeze by an elderly man passing by brings Nandini to the present. Against the backdrop of the decrepit walls, which sang a song of their glorious past, Nandini soaked in the waves of red as the tired sun slowly made its way behind the horizon to the embrace of its lover after an arduous day at work. She sat unblinking, looking up as the last ray of light disappeared into the darkness of the moonless night sky. The sky that was an allegory of her life.
Dark, Gloomy, and Uncertain.
“Madam, closing time hai, please chaliye.” the guard requested her to vacate the fort as it was time to close.
The exit from the fort opened into a 10 feet street with all the hip restaurants of Delhi on either side of it. Saturday evening was when young men and women from all over the city gathered in these taverns to drown their worries accumulated over the week’s slavery they called a ‘JOB.’ They came here in hordes because they could afford to, Nandini, on the other hand, could not. She averted her gaze and fixed it on the road beneath her feet while noticing the expensive shoes and sandals walking past her barely-stuck-together second-hand sports shoes. She needed to take a bus from the bus stop one and a half kilometers away. The distance she would cover on foot.
Alone.
In a place full of people.
Nandini was a love child. Her mother, Anjali, was a house help at her father’s place. Frequent fights between her father and his wife would leave her father wanting company and some solace. Being a man of influence and money, Rajesh Dhingra, her father, could not risk discussing his marital discord with anyone outside. Not even within the family, lest it might destroy his reputation. Rajesh endured as long as he could. When things went overboard, he turned to Nandini’s mother for solace. It started as a daily cup of tea and turned into a full-blown love affair, though still a secret. When Nandini’s mother got pregnant, her father asked her to abort. The doctors, however, refused, citing the mother-to-be’s health as the reason. Fearing societal backlash, he sent her mother to his farmhouse in Gurugram. The plan was simple. She would stay there for a year. During that time, she would have all the luxuries at her disposal. Once she delivered, she would come back, and they would live happily together. That way, Rajesh could take care of both Nandini and Anjali, and yet he would be saved from the reputational damage that this love child would otherwise cause.
The plan would have worked, but her mother died during childbirth. The in-house doctor called Rajesh, “ Sir, I am sorry to inform you that Anjali mam died while delivering the baby.”
“What? And the baby?”
“The baby is fine, sir. But, sir, there is something you should know.”
“What?”
“The baby is transgender.”
“Hey, sexy. You wanna come dance with us?” A group of five teenage boys leeched at Nandini as soon as she stepped out of the fort. Her experience dealing with men like these told her to ignore them and move faster. Thankfully they did not follow.
“Would they still want me if they knew the truth?” Nandini found herself asking this question to Shalini in her mind.
“Why not? Look at yourself; you are a treat for the eyes.” Shalini, her partner, her soul mate, responded.
“But my parents did not.” Nandini spoke out loud, and in her mind, she placed her head on Shalini’s shoulders, the only place in the world where she ever found peace.
Rajesh instructed the doctor and the servants to give the child to an orphanage. He wanted nothing to do with her. Anjali’s family conducted her last rites. Enough money exchanged hands, ensuring that they kept quiet. They were told that the child died during birth.
So Nandini grew up as an orphan. Life in the orphanage was very rough. No parent would adopt her because she was transgender. Who wanted a cursed child, after all? By the time puberty hit, kids around her started noticing how she was different from the others. When the word spread about her gender, she became the center of all jokes. Playing without being laughed at became impossible. Sister Josephine, who ran the orphanage of 150 children, became her only friend. A friend who could take out only 15 minutes of her time for Nandini. So Nandini took to writing. She spent hours writing and imagining stories. When the time to enter the workforce came, she realized no employer would have her. After getting rejected from scores of jobs, a restaurant owner, whose entire staff was transgender, offered her a job as a receptionist.
When one problem was solved, another surfaced. As per the orphanage rules, since Nandini had started earning, it was time for her to find her own accommodation. The money she earned was sufficient to get her a rented flat in promising areas of Delhi, but no one was willing to rent her a house because she was transgender. The ones who did had such strict visitation rules that living in jail was better. Therefore she was forced to live in a slum.
At work, she fell in love with another transgender named Shalini. Lack of acceptance throughout their lives meant they had more than enough love to give. Under such circumstances, when they found someone who would accept them for who they were, their love for each other transcended the boundaries of time. Within a month of meeting each other, they professed their love for each other, and within two months, they decided to marry. Nandini took Shalini to meet sister Josephine at the orphanage, and she gave her blessings to the two. And both of them got married. Things were good. For the first time, both of them started living a life they could call normal with someone they could call a family. But good was not Nadini’s fate.
“Nandini, you know, for the first time in my life, I feel that I belong. To anything or anybody. That I am not alone. Thank you for being a part of my life. I love you.” Shalini expressed her love for Nandini as she lay naked in her arms. Shalini was mindlessly playing with Nandini’s hair while looking at the ceiling, thanking the gods for giving her happiness for the first time in her life.
“I love you too, Shalini. You complete me.” Nandini reciprocated the love.
“I was thinking that we should expand our family. Many kids like us have been left to die by their families just because they are transgender. We can adopt one and be parents.” Shalini broached the topic she had been thinking about for some time.
Excited and smiling ear to ear, Nandini got up, looked Shalini in the eye, and kissed her with all the passion she could muster. “ I was thinking the same.” She said once she finished kissing her. “In fact, I thought we could start our own orphanage for transgender people. We can create a safe place for all the transgender babies who have been rejected by their parents.” She continued.
“I was thinking the same, Nandini, but where would we get the money from? We don’t know anything about running an orphanage.”
“We don’t, but sister Josephine does. We can go to her and ask her for guidance. And as far as the money goes. We can take a loan. Kulpreet, the owner of the restaurant where we work, gives out loans. Plus, he has a soft corner for transgender people. He can help us.” Nandini’s surety and excitement about the plan came out through her words. When she saw the slight hesitation in Shalini, she tried to provide one last argument.
“Shalini, I know this is not easy. On the contrary, this is a huge task. But imagine the number of people we can help. The lives we can change. No other Shalini and Nandini have to live the way we have lived. We will create our own tribe, our own family. We will create our own legacy. Our own happiness. Think.”
Nandini must have hardly walked 50 meters when tears visited her again. Today they have been a constant visitor. However, this time they came as a deluge. Powered by all the pain boiling inside her, the tears cracked open her dam of self-restraint and came out with an intensity that Nandini was not ready to handle. She cupped her mouth to avoid letting out a scream. Her legs gave in, and she had to push herself for support against the wall on her left.
“Are you OK?” A young boy in her late teens rushed towards her to check on her. Watching her fall, he tried to support her. He cupped her breasts with both his hands wrapped around her chest. Something Nandini wasn’t ready for. Startled and frightened by this brazen act of molestation in a bustling and crowded street, Nandini bit the man’s neck and ran towards the bus stop.
“Till where will you guys run?” Kulpreet and his men were finally able to catch Nandini and Shalini after days of searching for them.
“Nobody runs away after taking Kulpreet’s money. When I lent you the money, my terms were clear. Either you pay with money or with your life.” Kulpreet held a knife at Shalini’s neck as four men pinned Nandini and Shalini against the wall in their hidden godown.
“Kulpreet, we have already paid half of your money. Please give us some more time, and we shall repay the entire loan. Our orphanage is running in profit, and we shall be able to pay the entire amount in the next six months.” Nandini pleaded.
Nandini can never forget the menace on Kulpreet’s face. His eyes twinkled at the prospect of what he was about to do. The knife’s sharp edge traversed a curved trajectory on Shalini’s neck, resembling the smile on Kulpreet’s face.
“You surely will.” But you have to pay for the delay in half of the payment.”
As blood gurgled out of Shalini’s neck, Kulpreet and his men held both of them, ensuring that Shalini’s death was complete and final. Shalini choked. Kulpreet laughed.
Nandini screamed. A crowd had gathered around the body of a girl who was trying to cross the road. She was hit by the bus at the bus stop, which Nandini had just about reached. The body lay in front of Nandini. Seeing blood flow out of the body’s half-opened brain, images of Shalini’s death flashed in her mind. In the suddenness of everything, she lost her balance a little and took a couple of steps back to regain her balance. This was when she stepped on something. She looked down to notice a transparent file folder with papers inside. She picked it up and realized immediately what it was. Without wasting time, she slowly moved away from the dead girl, the crowd, and the police officers that had arrived on the scene. Nandini had just found a way out of Kulpreet’s clutches.
God’s creation is vast and mighty. One look at it, and you realize how majestic the scale of everything is. The sky -kissing mountains, the thousands of trees covering them. The scores of species living with them. All of this takes time. With beauty so astonishing, no wonder life on earth is slow.
Nandini had just woken up and was sipping her morning tea. It was summers in Laluk, a small town in the footsteps of Mt. Everest, her home for the last 17 years. Green Himalayan fir trees covered the humongous mountain range that stood in front of her. The peak of each mountain was sharp and majestic. Pointing to the sky, guiding you to keep your head and aim high. The slope of the mountain merges with the other. Each mountain brother holding hands with another on each side. Encircling the little valley of Laluk. Ensuring that no evil passes them through to the residents of the village in which Nandini lived. As she finished taking her last sip, the Chamundeshwari Girl’s School bell rang. The school gates opened, and one by one, girls from 5 to 13 years started filling the school compound. Nandini, the school’s headmistress got ready and went to her office to start a new day in her life. She had been thankful to God ever since she got hold of the documents of Neha. Her doppelganger.
The moment she saw her picture, she knew that this was her ticket to freedom. In the darkness of that Delhi night, she went straight to sister Josephine. She explained what had happened and what she intended to do. She requested Jospehine to take care of her orphanage while she went to Nepal for some time. Sister Josephine not only agreed to take care of the orphanage but also lent her thirty thousand rupees.
Nandini reached the Nepal-India border. The visa officer looked at the picture in the passport of the dead girl and then at Nandini. It matched. And so Nandini became Neha. Once in Nepal, Neha stayed in Kathmandu for some time, post which she moved to Laluk. There she reached out to the headmaster of the girl’s school for any job that she could provide. Neha started off as a help, running errands such as getting tea for the staff and taking care of the children. Over the last 17 years, Neha has become the school’s headmistress.
Today when she sat at her desk, she remembered both the headmistress and Shalini. While eventually, she overcame the fear of being caught by Kulpreet she never forgot Shalini, her first and only love. As she sat on her desk thinking about her life before she became Neha, the peon knocked at the door.
‘Mam, there is someone at the door to meet you.” Assuming the visitor to be a parent of one of the children, she requested the man who entered her room to take the seat in front of her. Once he sat down, the man spoke.
“Nandini. I am Rajesh Dhingra, and I believe you owe my man Kulpreet some money.”
