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Shormita pens an evocative poem about the Third Gender, exclusively for Different Truths.
Trees shed their leaves, My skin is dried up. Lips seems to be thirsty, The Sun is on its peak. Loo has blown up my face. Standing at the signal, Begging for ten rupees, water, food, A big man swiftly rolled up his window, He was disgusted to see me. Discrimination has blown up my face. Standing on the queue, People teased me; you can’t stand here. He-she-he-she-he-she, all laughing faces. Head down, face covered with shame and rage. Reality has blown up my face. They say, ‘You are different, strange’, But my body parts are similar to them. Third gender is what I call myself, Though I am more than what you see. Sense of identity, I see on my face.
Poet’s Note: This poem tells us about the marginalisation faced by the trans people in society. The autumn season depicts the lonely plight of the transgenders, how they are struggling to find their monsoon rain which will be full of joy and free of discrimination. Firstly, the transgenders must realise their own individual identity, which is not defined by their name, sex, gender, caste, and religion. The true and real meaning of their existence should be re-defined by their inner skills.
As a LGBTQIA+ friendly person, I would like to aware the society about the mental health of the queer people; the discrimination and negligence done by their near and dear ones has intrinsically affected the mental health of these people.
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