I was the third child and only boy born into a middle class family in Tollygunge. My birth was celebrated and I was a pampered child; the undue advantages of being born male in our society. Even as a child, I was very fond of girls’ clothing and games. I’d dress like my sisters and play with their dolls. Everyone thought they were the cute antics of a child until I turned 12 and didn’t outgrow any of them. That is when the beatings began.
In Class 5, I was sent to an all-boys school. I hated it. I tried acting like the other boys, but soon it became too much effort and I gave up. I was called ‘chaka’ and ‘homo’ and all sorts of other names. After Class 8, my interest in academics waned. All the bullying cost me my concentration. I started asking god why was I born if no one knew about my existence? After Class 12, I got admitted into a co-educational college to do my BA.
I wore guys’ clothes but behaved like a girl. Guys didn’t want to be seen with me and girls wouldn’t let me into their groups. The ragging kept getting worse until I decided to discontinue. It was also around that time that I heard of an NGO that works with people like me. I attended a meeting and came back thrilled. I had heard the word ‘transgender’ for the first time. I learnt that it was not my fault or my parents’ fault. It was society’s fault for not accepting people like me. But my parents never understood, so I left and went to Islampur. It was in 2009. I thought I would be free to be whatever I was. Little did I know the struggle was just about to start. I could hardly find a place to stay and lived on the streets and bus stands. I met another person like me and asked if I could join her group. I started begging and performing at wedding functions.
In 2010, I started working in the social sector, identifying as a social activist first and transgender next. I worked as a police informer, I worked in red light districts and areas known for human trafficking. My work spoke for me and soon people came to know about me. In the meantime, I also finished my graduation. In 2014, when transgenders were legally recognised as the third gender, I got my voter’s ID, Aadhar card and all the other paperwork done. I was now officially Joyita Mondal.
On July 1st 2017, I got a call from the district judge and was asked to come to his office. I was terrified. It was then that I was told that Lok Adalats can appoint social workers with a good performance record to be judges and I was being handed an appointment as member judge. On 8th July 2017, a car was waiting outside my house. It was stamped ‘Judgeship on Duty’. I could barely believe it was for me. I heard I was the first transgender judge. News spread far and wide, and there were interviews and television appearances. I even got invited as a judge to the Durga Puja pandals that I used to avoid fearing bullying.
Today, I travel in an official car on the same roads I slept on. Thanks to the verdict against Section 377, there is no difference between you and me. From being ridiculed as a kid to being appointed as a judge, it has been a long journey but this is just the beginning.
Joyita Mondal
