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From a Ghetto

Sent to the 'ghetto' at an early and years later castrated only to make the her in me feel it was time to come out of the closet. We don't go to schools, we are trained to dance and beg at traffic points of the metros. They know we exist, and we exist in our demarcated areas as 'pushed-out' kind. They say there is equality. Well, yes, there is only when we return to our place, among our own kind. How could my father walk with a proud face when his son roams the streets of the city in sari and dances for money? I don't think about them, my family, anymore. My family means the 'pushed-out' ones in the 'ghetto.'

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