Stories

My mother, when I was a child, would tell me stories of how our great freedom fighters got us freedom. And I would often think, “Will I not be able to do anything for my people?” Today the picture seems to have changed drastically.

Twenty-six:
A thousand people have perished in the torrential rains that lashed on Maharashtra on July 26. Of course Mumbai was applauded for its resilience and its famed ‘spirit of Mumbai’ that it was back to normal in almost no time. Of course, the government was widely criticized for its inaction about the huge garbage dumps all over the city; and while criticizing, the same people threw Lays wrappers and Pepsi glasses straight through the train window!

Not once in all the conversations I overheard in the local trains, did I see an iota of mourning for all those who died.

After the Tsunami that hit us and many others on December 26, last year, Times of India carried an article saying, “Partying: A Sweet Sorrow”, basically justifying the new year celebrations.

Under the Bridge:
I had noticed a few eunuch prostitutes on the railway tracks. I had seen them walking with their customers on the tracks as well. Once when I went to a toilet on Bandra station, one approached me. I thought I was shocked.

The actual shock came two days later when I saw a eunuch prostitute being fucked in the arse by a man. This was between two pillars of a bridge. That made me weak in the knees.

Last year while I was in Bangalore, Kokila, a 21 year old hijra (eunuch) was raped by a group of thugs who ran away when the police arrived. The police, instead of filing a first investigation report (FIR), went on to further abuse her. They burned her nipples and vaginal area with burning coir rope and shoved a rifle up her arse besides showering her with verbal abuses.

There was a huge protest in the form of a hunger strike, held by the hijras of Bangalore. I went there and sat amongst them and spoke to a few hijras. Some of them spoke impeccable English and said that they had to do sex work because they would not find a job, given their sexuality.

Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, 1860 criminalizes “unnatural offences”. This not only does not recognize hijras and gay men and women, but also criminalizes them.

So, Kokila’s case has stayed as it was since July, 2004.

It took me 5 hours, i.e. till 02:30 am to have the railway police accept my complaint against a policeman, without a proper uniform, with a ten-round-rifle, who was urinating from the ladies first class compartment while on duty, who tried to intimidate me when I confronted him. The police tried everything from straight away denying lodging a complaint, to using intimidating language to stop me from filing the complaint.

Stories:
Guess there are innumerable stories like these. The stories can last for generations. But as sand trickles down the hour-glass, with every story told, there will be new ones to tell.

My mother, when I was a child, would tell me stories of how our great freedom fighters got us freedom. And I would often think, “Will I not be able to do anything for my people?”