Her georgette saree flew,
like a scene from a Karan Johar film.
The voice of her payal sang with every stride she took.
Jasmines adored her beautifully pinned hair,
their fragrance trailing in the air she walked through.
A dot of vermilion on the brow is a defiance
Against the fear instilled by the “civilized ones.”
The make-up she gracefully carried,
and her petal-like lips often bloomed into a wide smile
as if the world could never take anything away from her.
Her free self is the gift she has given herself.
She is a proud transwoman.
Her bangles are not chains of oppression,
but a beautiful, powerful clap
reminding the privileged men and women,
the so-called “normal” people,
that she exists, radiant and unbroken.
The world may see her differently,
But she is raising a life in this discriminatory society,
a daughter adopted from a sex worker.
To that child, she is a mother,
a mother who would fight the whole world,
who would shield her from the ferocious animals dressed up as Men.
