Venue: A mall. Not really. A shopping centre.
Security check. I wait. There are three others ahead. One of them has had her bag checked. Our eyes meet. Her gaze is disturbing and disturbed. She smiles slowly. Striking, she is, in a tunic and capris. Tall, prominent shoulders and a face strong and yet vulnerable. The guards are smirking. I look at the other two, slightly plump, in sarees.
Her gaze is still on me. As they walk away, the security woman looks at the male guard who says, “Ab yeh log bhi shopping karne aate hai?” (Now these people also come to shop?)
I turn to him and say, “Yeh log bhi kapde pehente hai, khana khaate hai aur doosroun par hanste hai.” (These people too wear clothes, eat and laugh at others.)
After doing my spot of shopping, I see them at the store where I had been a while earlier. It has nice blouses, tunics and jeans. I hear the salesman tell the tall one, “Yeh slim fit hai.” And I watch as she holds it close to her waist and twirls and turns around.
Our eyes meet again. Disturbing. Disturbed.
She, the eunuch. I, the woman. Looking for things we both need.