Thursday, May 31, 2007

My Friend...Zeenat!

Read this article in the news paper the other day about the eunuchs & the phobia people experienced when they accidentally cross path with them.

I have a story to tell about my friend Zeenat, the eunuch from my yesteryears.

I was a teenager then, growing up with all kinds of insecurities, like my looks (was painfully thin & gawky), would I fare well in my examinations? would I be accepted by bombay crowd and its load of arrogance? will I be able to board the 8:25 local train to arrive at Matunga Rd sharp at 9.15 am…?heck….my list of worries were endless.

At my school DonBosco, During SSC I joined Ramchandar coaching .

To excel and keep up the tempo, I had to finish up with my coaching after school and then come back home around 8pm everyday. The daily train ride back to Kandiville was roughly 50 minutes. This I spent either downing junk food or catching up on sleep.

During one such journey, I was rudely awakened one day by this gruff male voice...

I opened my eyes to a pair of savage eyes stared back at me. He clapped his hands loudly & announced that I was a sharukh look alike… Aai SSSSharukh.. chal de
huh??? What did this man think I was ?…nuts?..
Then he suggested that I could part with Rs 11/- & good luck would be bestowed on me….
hmmm…I thought…so this is why I look like the tensile towns top hero.

His intimidating presence frightened me a bit since I was 1 of the very few in that compartment that day with this gigantic looking swarthy individual. I realized that he was clad in a sari, receding hair tightly clasped in a tiny knot. I decided that since this individual had chosen to dress like a women, I would call him.… “her”. This was not my first encounter with an eunuch but surely the first one alone at such close quarter.

She kept clapping loudly & demanding that I take heed to her advise & part with the Rs 11/- I summoned up courage to answer that I couldn’t afford such an expensive proposition. I reasoned that I was a student & had to skip my lunch to save up the Rs20/- to buy ciggerttes and cold drink while coming back.
In a meek voice, I requested her that she should accept my 50 paise instead; it was either 50 rupees note or 50Paise in my wallet.

What happened next was most unexpected. She sat opposite me, summing me up & what seemed like an eternity, grinned exposing an awkward set of bad teeth. She introduced herself as Zeenat. I stared astounded at this revelation…Zeenat ???…she defied all norms of being Zeenat..honour of a women.

She was 5 ft 9” broad shouldered, burly & had coarse body hair matting her chest right down to her huge pot belly which protruded offensively as she sat opposite me. She didn’t dress like the regular eunuchs who are known to wear garish makeup, flowers adorning their hair & brightly coloured clothes. Instead she looked like a burly man dressed in a sari.

I quaintly looked at her, relaxed since she had this rather gentle expression on her face as she looked at me. After the initial rapprochement, we got down to first name basis. As Kandiville approached, I parted with my 50P & promised to give her another if I saw her the next day.

There started my first and the only friendship till date with an eunuch....

As I traveled the next evening, there she was again. She grinned broadly as she recognized me, begged outrageous amounts from the other commuters & later came back to chat a bit & collect the measly one rupee I had to offer her.

This became our daily routine & was amused at people gawking at the odd couple we made. Zeenat would caution me to the world of con-men, prostitues & how it was important to be a toughie & not get exploited. Both of us probably got on to a plane where we understood one another.

One day, I asked Zeenat why she begged. Wasn’t it shameful to not work hard & instead earn a living by terrorizing people to part with their money grudgingly. She looked bemused at my outspokenness, pondered on it for sometime then said yes, she would love to take up this suggestion. But then, she would need a job to support herself & could I help her look for one?

This simple question coming from her, jolted me & my romanticism about hard work & earning ones livelihood. I tried to think hard about who I could approach to get Zeenat a decent job. Not one name came up from my mental diary who would dare the world & reach out.

Would any of us dare to give Zeenat a job??? Would Zeenats’ of this world ever be accpeted in our lives???

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