Ever swallowed a bitter pill that lodged itself in the throat, melting into a sour fluid with every agitated swallow? Well, this book is one such pill.
In its very existence lies the truth about how terrifying life can be. Every page that gathers to become a chapter, holds within its words acute pain, humiliation, anger, hunger, violation…
The story of Revathi, born Doraiswamy is written with precision and candour. There are no embellishments, no paragraphs to make the reading light. It is one tightrope journey that keeps one glued to the story of how a boy desperately wants to be a woman and wants the world to understand this overwhelming feeling.
This is where she is completely let down… By Family and society. The life of a ‘Hijra’, it’s secret community and tightlaced hierarchy, are worlds into which very few might have a glimpse. This book is a peep hole.
How little one understands the millions who share this planet… Under garish makeup and a manly voice, lies a wounded soul, that still smiles because till death happens, there is life to be traversed.
I bought this book for Rs. 10/- from a second hand book store. It is a signed copy. The reason for my curiosity could be Rama, the eunuch who visits me near Diwali time every year, she leaves a list of things that her people need for the winter.
Over the years, I have learnt to calm the fear that irrationally arose when I was around them. It could be because Rama visits me alone and is not brash… Or it could be that I have grown….
