'And…. Action!’

As if on cue, the brilliant orange dye carelessly spilt from the boiling orb on the corn-blued vault of heaven. The russet red monster with ravens clinging on its chassis somersaulted from the ledge of a decrepit building. Men, women and Beyond held their breath as its ebony feet clawed the earth. The dust and dried leaves scattered away from the earth as they heard its screeches. The Earth became silent. The birds moored themselves on the blue haven to see who helmed this monstrous monster. Even Nature and the Gods wondered and whispered among themselves.

‘And … Cut. Good job, Marudhu!’

A man, no, a boy who is playing near the verges of his manhood, removed his armour and gracelessly showed his black leather thumb towards the voice. The humans and deities pooh-poohed alike, seeing a tanned, thinned, and tired creature mounting off the beast instead of a golden-haired Adonis. While all the people in the set were busy clapping their cracked hands, an irritated 21st Circa Kamadeva frowned, stood up and tossed aside his custom-made UV-protected sunglass.

‘Hey-Yo, Director, Scene over? I have an appointment with Dr Iyer for my headache.’

‘Yes, Sir. Marudhu did a fine job on your stunt. No one can tell you and him apart.’

‘Fucking blind, old man!’- barked the South Indian Apollo as he trod away rubbing his head.

‘Director Saar, why did you say that? Maadhav Saar is our ‘Thalaiva- our Mega Action Hero’!’

‘Hey, Marudhu, my superstar!’- cooed a throaty but slightly breathier voice.

‘Ooooh, here comes our B.S. Saroja Devi!’—cried a shadow with some generic name behind the colossal light refractor.

Photo credit: P1 Varanam Malaysia

Marudhu’s nicotine-stained, tanned lips threw a handful of crisp curses towards that familiar shadow, but Selvi stopped him midway with her long, elegant, coconut oil-rubbed bronze fingers. Light sparkled from her one-gram-gold rings that greedily snaked around her long fingers, painted in vermilion. She took a small, plumb brown paper bag and gave it to Marudhu, who clumsily dropped it along with his not-so-cheap biker gloves borrowed from the costume department.

‘Are you still taking those meds, Marudhu? You are not supposed to pop these pills like Injimarappa! Please go see Dr. Iyer. Your spinal injury should be treated at the earliest.’

‘Marudhu, listen to Director Saar. Without you, our ‘Thalaiva’ will be jobless!’

‘Akka, already mice are running in my stomach. Please don’t eat my brain too!’—said our fake action hero to his sister.

Marudhu loves his family, especially Allie, his heart’s beloved. Unlike most families in his slum, his family has only four members: Marudhu, his wife, his older sister, and his mother, Sengei. He has never seen his father. He lost his father when he was a tiny cell in his mother’s womb. Sengei was a doting mother who mistrusted Vellai-Kaaran medicines. She believed in the miracles of fresh leaves and Thailams that her shaman trades with her for one Gold Flake cigarette. And if Marudhu refuses to take these ancient medicines, Sengei will flood his eroding hut with her tears. But their house was already flooding with Sengei’s tears as Selvi, his sister, was not getting cured despite his mum religiously sacrificing hens for Mariyamma.

Selva became Selvi ten years ago when she discarded her pants for shirts and inner vests for bras. She knew from the spring days of her life that she was trapped in the wrong body. Though Marudhu and his beloved Allie welcomed her, Sengei could not accept Selvi, and she consulted all the Gods and Man-Gods alike for some medicines that could turn her back to Selva. For Selvi, like many in her community, the house and the streets were places where she was pelted with caustic words. Some days, people run away from her, and on other days, they throw sticks and stones at her. Many days they leered at her, and most days they swore at her. Without Marudhu, Allie and Selvi’s beloved sidekicks—Shakti and Mallee from her ‘Thirunar Group’—Selvi would have been an orphan in a lonely world. Yet loneliness wandered in the cold, stony chambers of her heart.

In a world where your identity and future are tied to the bag of bones and skin, she found it difficult to build a life she liked. Though she has a pre-degree certificate, no one was willing to give her a job. People like her are liars and thieves in the eyes of society. And to survive, people like her are forced to sell their flesh. However, Selvi, like her name, wanted to prosper in this world on her terms. And for that, she needed to have the correct mortal part, a good job, and the ability to walk down the streets without bending her head. Scraping from her random jobs and saving by starving, Selvi was able to save enough money to make her transition. Though it took ten years and running away from greedy doctors, Selvi was able to finally meet Dr Thenmozhi through her Thirunar group. Dr Thenmozhi, or Thenmozhi akka as Selvi lovingly calls her, understands the plight of transgender people. She runs a clinic on Adyar Street where LGBTQAI+ communities are treated without judgment. Her patients do not require selling their houses or pawning their ornaments for an operation or a prescription for their illness. Thenmozhi akka works in a multispecialty hospital in the heart of Madras city. And every week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she comes to her clinic in Adyar to look after the needful. She looks after the sick without any payment, nor does she ever ask for it.

However, she is religiously met with the same question- ‘What should they pay her?’- uttered by distinct faces with the same emotion- Fear. And every time she replies with the same answer to all these anxious souls—‘Nothing!’

Patients leave her clinic scratching their heads, wondering why Dr Thenmozhi Akka replied thus. As their culture dictates them to pay their healers, her patients return with fruits, vegetables, home-cooked food, their cleaning or helping services, and sometimes some wrinkled and soiled rupees. Thenmozhi does not accept these gifts, nor does she reject them. Thenmozhi decides what to do with the gifts left on her table. Sometimes she gives the vegetables and fruits to her staff or asks her driver to distribute them to the nearby slum. Every time she remembers to take a bite from their home-cooked food and to thank the hands that cooked on their next visit. Although she would love to take the food back home, her family scaffolds would crumble if they saw food made by ‘those people’. So, only her staff or the children in the slums get to enjoy it. And the currencies, she gives to the head nurse to buy supplies for the clinic.

When Selvi met Thenmozhi, she was sceptical about the new doctor, who was praised by her sidekicks. In the past ten years, all the doctors tried to rip off her dignity and her pockets. She always dreaded each doctor’s appointment. Some medical men prod and poke her with medical curiosity, while others suggest ‘going down’ on them for a fee reduction. The medical women shoo her away as they do to those crows that try to pick their sun-drying appalams.

A year ago, when she was to meet Dr Thenmozhi, her mind pleaded with her legs to run out of the clinic. But her desire to be Selvi from Selva dragged her towards Thenmozhi. As her jingling feet stepped into Dr Thenmozhi’s room, Selvi was greeted with a friendly smile. During the whole thirty minutes, Selvi was not stripped of her dignity. Dr Thenmozhi told her about the surgery procedure, the regular health checkups she needs to do and promised to refer her to Dr Chandru, who specialises in transition. As if sensing Selvi’s burning worries, the doctor assured her that Dr Chandru was the most respectable man who would treat her with the utmost respect. Before leaving the room, Selvi too asked ‘the question’ and once again, Thenmozhi repeated her reply.

Selvi has never seen anyone like Thenmozhi akka. Someone like her touching and eating from people like her, even in today’s cities, it was unheard of. They say Doctor Akka charges thousands from her Madras hospital patients so she can treat people like them. Selvi boos away such envious comments and spits three times so that misfortune will not befall her, Thenmozhi Akka. But it has been a month since she has seen Thenmozhi Akka. Selvi’s mind has been whirling with worries since Marudhu got injured on the set. No threats and tears are effective; Marudhu will not do his surgery.

‘Marudhu, Allie said yesterday that you had a slight fever, and you refused to go to the hospital.’

‘Akka, my name is Marudhu. It means medicine. So, I need no medicine.’

‘Marudhu, it hurts me to see you in such pain. Why can’t you go see Dr Iyer?'

‘I went.’

And?’

‘He refused to see me.’

‘Is it because?’

‘Caste? Yes. Our no-money situation. Also, yes.’

‘But Marudhu!’

Marudhu decided to change the topic by telling his sister that he saw Thenmozhi Akka, and she informed him that Selvi has been missing her appointments. Though he reminded Selvi about her upcoming surgery, he saw her struggling to answer him. The world became blurry before Selvi’s eyes. In her brown eyes, Marudhu saw the last tangerine flame setting behind the edge of the western clouds. He saw the brilliant hues of the prelude of dusk in the drops of her sadness that threatened to unleash its lifelong tales of throes.

‘Marudhu, you are going to be a father in eight months. You will have responsibilities. You both will be running around with your little one. And with your back, I doubt whether you will be able to get out of bed.’

‘Akka. I will be fine. Allie has promised Mariyamma to fast and walk on fire when I get cured.’

‘Allie is day by day becoming the younger version of our mother. Marudhu, maybe we can see Dr Rajakannu.’

‘Thenmozhi Akka’s friend, isn’t?’

Selvi caught a glimpse of the rising old moon in his tired eyes. She heard him sigh—a sigh of agreement.

The next day, Marudhu, Selvi, and Allie decided to go and meet the referred doctor with the blessings of Sengei. Though she screamed that she would not spare a paisa for Selvi’s transition surgery, Sengei was more than willing to part with her bangle or two for her younger son.

As they entered the hospital through the ashen door, their umbrellas snapped closed their mouths and released a volley of cloud-birthed water globes onto the beige floor tiles. They walked over the muddy footprints of their predecessors. It was raining inside, too. Trying to escape the oncoming cocktail of rainwater and cement seeping through the cracked roofs, the patients grumbled and limped onto another rusty metal chair. Today, the hospital did not smell of phenyl or death, thought Selvi. It smelled of sweat mingled with mud, an earthy smell that gets occasionally overpowered by the smell of piping hot filter coffee and vadai. As they reached Dr Rajakannu’ s waiting room, they were welcomed by shivering attendants and a long queue of cracked, crushed, and crippled people. They found a lonely stool at the back of the waiting room. Though Allie was willing to stand along with Selvi, Marudhu and Selvi insisted that Allie take that seat. Leaving them, Selvi walked towards the canteen to buy two chai and one filter coffee. As she entered the canteen, she saw children looking at her with wonder and women pulling their husbands towards them.

‘Thambi, two chayai, one filter koffee and three vadai.’

‘Does it have money with it?’—asked the owner, twirling his thick, oiled, and well-groomed moustache.

‘It has a name. And yes, I have money.’

‘Hey, give it what it wants and wash your hands after taking its money,’—commanded the King of Stale Vadai, scratching his hairy chest.

‘Thambi, tell your Anna to wash his mind and hands too.’- clapped back Selvi. 

She left the money on the counter, took the food, and walked out of the canteen after throwing a kiss at the tongue-tied man with his hand still stuck on his hairy chest.

‘Here is your vadai and chayai!’—Selvi saw the waiting patients looking at the trio with amusement. As they sipped their hot brew, they listened to the rhythmic dripping of rainwater into the bucket, the beep-beep of monitors, and the laborious breathing of the broken bodies around them. They saw a drenched, muddy cat taking asylum in the hospital. It shook its wet fur and walked around the room for some warmth or a warm snack. It darted towards the almirah, smelling a warm snack hiding under it. Everyone in the room was lost in their thoughts, and it was occasionally broken by a sneeze or the nurse calling the name of the next patient or the slight crunch of vadai.

‘Marudhu!’

‘Here!’

Selvi saw Marudhu’s pinky embracing Allie’s little finger and Allie tenderly assuring her husband with her loving, kohl-rimmed eyes.

‘I’ll wait for you!’

‘What, no! You are coming with us,’- cried the couple in unison.

‘Kannai, listen to me, go please, I will wait for you here.’

Selvi glimpsed Marudhu’s troubled face as the couple vanished behind the ancient doors of Dr Rajakannu. She sighed and said a silent prayer to Mariyamma. She was always considered an ill omen. Though she brushed off these comments, today she feared that her presence could or might rob her little brother’s pain-free days.

‘Hmph! If they get a small prick, they will rush to Amerika to treat it. If we fall, not even the poor doctors in our country want to treat us.’

Selvi opened her eyes and saw a bent, emancipated body folding itself onto the chairs before her. She worried about why this tawny man was flushing with anger. Was it because the doctors refused to treat him, also because of his caste?

His cervical collar did not hinder him from recounting his painful tale to the uninterested listeners. He started his story by cursing the doctors who emptied his pockets and ended by complaining about his construction contractor, Saar, who refused to restock his pockets with fresh green rupees. He sighed and asked his neighbour-patient, a boy on crutches, to recount his tale. He wanted to know whether, like him, the boy too fallen from any construction site. If so, he can use some latest cuss words that he never got a chance to flaunt. But his dreams were crumbled when he heard that the jobless boy tried to commit suicide for his jilted lover, who eloped with a municipality sweeper.

‘Tch-Tch, young people these days. Why cry for a girl like her? Thoo- whore! Be a man! Men don’t cry! Twirl your moustache, light a cigarette, and walk with your head up. All these girls will soon come running towards you. That girl must have had some fault, that’s why she left you!’

Everyone in the room, except Selvi, agreed with the man with neck pain. That was enough encouragement for the man to do another speech for five minutes.

‘Akka!’

Selvi anxiously walked toward her brother and his wife. The couple understood from Selvi’s face what she was about to ask.

‘Doctor Saar said he can do the surgery next month, and he will also do a fee reduction. Still, it will cost about two lakhs, Akka.’—Allie said.

‘Mariyamma heard our prayers. Shakti called me today. He and our community members have raised some money for my surgery. There are also some grants offered by our government for sex reassignment surgeries, and I have asked around about it. If I can get it, I can pay half of the money for Marudhu’s surgery.’

‘Akka, but!’

‘No, listen to me. You need to start saving for the baby. No, buts Marudhu. It’s decided.’

Marudhu became a little boy whenever his sister spoke this. Overcome by his love for his sister, he hugged Selvi and cried into the crook of her neck. Though shocked, Selvi caressed her brother’s head. They sniffled and hugged each other, which made many waiting bodies squirm in their seats.

‘We will miss our bus!’- said Selvi, wiping her nose with the end of her saree.

Selvi opened her umbrella. Marudhu and Allie huddled under the umbrella, clinging to the strong, bangled arms of Selvi. As they walked hand in hand, planning and budgeting their life, the muddy cat with half ears poked its head out from under the almirah. Its sleepy hazel eyes watched the trio walking towards the bus station in a zigzag manner to avoid the fresh puddles. The cat kept on munching its new catch, slurped the grey tail hanging out of its mouth, purred, licked its cracked paw, yawned, and curled itself under the almirah and slept without a care about its fate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feature Photo Credit: The Indian Express

Glossary

• Akka—Elder sister

• Amerika - America

• Appalam - A snack like Poppadom

• Ayyo/ Aiyo—An interjection

• B. S. Saroja Devi—An old Tamil film actress

• Injimarappa—A candy made of ginger

• Kannai—Darling

• Kamadeva—An Indian God representing beauty, lust and love.

• Mariyamma—A local Goddess

• Pongal—An offering to the Goddess

• Saar—The local way of saying Sir

• Thailam—oil

• Thalaiva—The leader

• Thambi—Younger brother/ used to address a boy

• Thirunar Group—Transgender Group in Tamil Nadu, South India

• Vadai—A South Indian Savoury Doughnut

• Vellai-Kaaran—White people