Beautiful Curse

"Some men come earlier. They say Chanda is a man! That you lie with Hijra! Is this true, Jolly?"

I had forgotten we had enemies.

I wasn't certain how commonplace a Hijra was or how acceptable it was but his exclamation caused me alarm.

"Of course not, my friend. You know Chanda as I know Chanda. They are only angry because I am her favorite customer and they never have a chance. We've had run-ins with them before," I tried to assuage him.

He considered it but shook his head.

"They said they did have a chance, long ago. And they found she was a Hijra, Jolly. Do you understand what that means?"

He looked quite serious and I was uncertain if it was out of concern for me or outrage.

"I do. And as you know, Chanda and I are only friends. It is her business if she were a Hijra, and I would be her friend the same if she were. Goodnight, my friend."

I walked away briskly, a sizable pit in my stomach draining away all the lover's euphoria I had been intoxicated with and replacing it with worry. I cursed those ruffians for going out of their way to ruin us. I would have to lie low and stay away from my friends downtown until this was nothing but rumor.

I stuck to the European quarter and my apartment for the next couple weeks. I'd pick up Chanda from the brothel and we'd take the alleys back to the divide between India and replica England.

I'd have food ready for us before I left and afterward we'd look out the window and talk or just make love straight after. She brought oil to leave at my flat to make it easier. We grew accustomed to each other's bodies and I joked I was finally getting my money's worth.

She would whisper things to me as we lay in the afterglow together. She told me more about the Hijra and how her Lady got everything she made to keep her there, as she was not welcome with her family. Most of Indian society didn't want much to do with them, forcing them to cordon themselves to their own communities under a mentor figure who provided for them.

Chanda's lady was unique in that she kept Hijra and normal prostitutes, demanding an equal price from both. She was powerful in that dirty part of town and no one dared to mess with her children.

Chanda revealed to me one night that she didn't fully desire to be a Hijra, and that it was the only path to nearing womanhood she knew of.

"Forgive me for my ignorance on this topic but you seem already a woman to me."

She glared at me a moment and then reached for her penis.

"Does this look womanly to you? You fondle this damned thing like it's your own!"

I chuckled and replaced her hand holding it, relishing it's small size.

"The rest of you is very womanly though, Chanda. None of my friends had any clue until those fools told them."

She shook her head and moved my hand to her hip.

"I would fret over my appearance if I had not already and ensured I appeared how I should. It is the last and most important thing. It is a Hell."

I wanted to joke but I saw it had turned serious for her. She lay her head on my chest and stared out the window.

I watched it with her and ran my fingers through her hair.

"I still believe you're a woman."

She sighed and said, "I know, pyaar."

She kissed my chest and we stayed like that until it was time to escort her home.

We started down the alley where we had met months before and sure enough, the men I had tussled with were loitering about. If that happened to be their particular alley or if they were hunting for us through alleys every night, I was not sure.

They hopped off the bins they were sitting on and clucked to each other upon recognizing who we were. They started to advance whilst glaring at my companion. I grabbed Chanda's hand and we rushed back out of the alley and down the main street.

We rushed down the sidewalk, our pursuers following behind at a distance. A few people I knew saw me and looked at us with disdain, or curiosity. None cared we were being chased and only stared.

They seemed deliberate in their pace and remained behind us until we reached the brothel. Chanda dragged me inside and shouted for the Lady to come down to help us. She came down the stairs and walked past us outside.

She stood on her porch and looked right through the jackals as she announced her rights as matron of the Hijras and prostitutes of the neighborhood. She demanded they leave, firmly and with no room for misinterpretation, but they only paced back and forth, retreating only slightly.

Suddenly she screamed the order again, and street toughs at the street corners started walking down the sidewalks toward us. They eyed the Lady's men and took her seriously then, walking back the way they came quickly.

The Lady composed herself and then came back inside, assuring us there would be no problem with them from now on and to let her know if they threatened Chanda again. Chanda bowed to her and I thanked her profusely.

She only nodded and pointed up the stairs for Chanda to go to her room. I bid them both goodnight and hurried home, dodging my friends as they tried to get me to talk to them. I ran up the steps to the apartments and shut the door firmly, finally exhaling in relief of safety.

The next day at work, it felt like everyone was watching me. I would look up and see someone turn their head as they passed my office door. This persisted until the end of the day and I was happy to be heading out.

But once I set foot outside my office, my superior asked to speak to me in his own and I followed him in begrudgingly.

"Monsieur, I had heard a rumor as of late about what you do with your free time."

I saw his eyes twitch above me and I turned around in my seat, spotting Cadence walk out of view through the opaque glass in the door.

I turned around and my superior took a breath.

"Monsieur, I have heard that you spend your nights with a man who dresses up as a woman? I'm sure you remember the gypsies of our France, but to share your bed with one? That will not do. We cannot have this tarnish the honor of this consulate."

He awaited my response and I worked my jaw, unsure how Cadence had suddenly regained the memories he had lost at the brothel. He must have been around when the Lady drove those men away.

"Monsieur," I began, "My companion you refer to, I assure you, is a lady. This is the result of nothing more than a childhood insult that has followed her and bit at her reputation whenever a fool brings it up again."

"That may be so, and I grant you the benefit of the doubt regardless. Cease all relations with this individual, or we will have no choice but to send you back to France. You are free to go."

He gestured toward the door with an uneasy look on his face. I stood and gathered my things, leaving without a word.

I walked home and locked myself away for the night. Chanda would understand if I didn't come for her one night.

I contemplated what our next move should be. I sat at my dining table, map laid before me, one of Chanda's bracelets in my hand. I played with it as I thought, the item comforting me.

I was here at the service of France and abandoning my post would complicate my reputation and chances of returning to my easy life in France a normal citizen. I didn't particularly care to return but I couldn't predict where the future would lead me.

I could ask for a transfer in office to some other position the French Government needed filled in India, but that might take too long.

I didn't know much about other parts of India but Chanda would know something surely. I knew less about neighboring Asia and my chances of supporting us without the need for European clerical work. I drummed her bracelet on the table, anxious.

I felt such a strong urge to take Chanda and flee, though I didn't know where we would go or if she would even agree. If I took Chanda away from her Lady, that would be just another enemy of our love.

I stayed up late into the night examining the map and tallying my funds, planning possible routes out of the city but still falling short of anything solid.

I was awoken the next morning by rapid knocking on my door. I jerked awake, knocking my map off the table with a soft clatter. The knocking persisted as I rushed to the door, afraid of who would be on the other side.

I unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a meek looking woman in a deep purple saree shirking away from the door.

She looked down the hall and then to me.

"Chanda has sent me," she said in husky tones, revealing she was a fellow Hijra, "She must see you at once!"

I blinked at her and asked, "Of course, but has something happened?"

She nodded gravely.

My heart sank and I nodded before shutting my door.

I dressed and snatched Chanda's bracelet off the table before hurrying out the door to follow the messenger back to the brothel.

We traded conversation for haste on the way, my heart aching with every step.

She opened the door and stepped out of the way of my charge up the stairs. I couldn't see anything in the darkness but I found her door and pushed it open, the dim candlelight beside her bed restoring my vision.

Chanda lay in her bed, her right arm lay across her chest, wrapped in white bandages. Her eyes opened and she looked afraid at first, but recognized me, relief easing her features. She beckoned me closer. I knelt at her bedside and asked her what had happened.

"Last night, I was with a man. We walked through that alley, even though I begged him not to. Those men were there again, and they attacked me with sticks. The man tried to stop them but they wouldn't until my arm was broken.

"He took me home and the Lady has sent men out looking for them."

I knew she could not stay here, then. No further harm could come to Chanda. I attempted to examine her arm but it pained her too much to lift. I cursed the men who did this to her. I prayed the Lady's men would find them.

"My love, we can't stay here," I whispered, reigning in my ire.

She nodded.

"I knew you felt so. But I do not know how we would leave. The Lady has invested too much in me. She would not let me part easily. Where would we go?"

I stroked her cheek and sighed.

"I don't know. I was trying to figure it out last night. Could we stay in India?"

"Hijra are treated the same everywhere."

I nodded and replied, "But how would they know you are Hijra? Especially in another country."

She shrugged her good shoulder and said, "I know no other language or work. But I will follow you if you want to run away."

I smiled and grasped her hand.

"I will follow you until you are safe. I must go to work now, lest they send me back to France; and without any companions."

She smiled and wished me well, I promised to see her that night, handing her her bracelet.

I made it to work only a few minutes late, but it only took a few to be noticed absent from such an office.

My suspicious overseer entered my office, smiling faintly at me.

"Monsieur," he began. "I notice you have arrived late today, unlike your usual punctuality. Is everything well?"

I knew any further acts of inefficiency would only ease the restraint the consulate held in deporting me.

"I was settling my affairs, as you requested, Monsieur. I apologize it took longer than I would have liked."

He brightened at this and praised my urgency to satisfy his ultimatum.

"Keep up the good work!" He called out, before leaving my office.

I watched the ladies wash their clothes and wished Chanda were one of them, safe, accepted, visible.

But I knew that I wouldn't love Chanda the same if she were not herself. She was similar to me; striving to be herself, but held down by the environment around her. I felt she had done much more than me to attain happiness, and yet she was left with great desire, and such persecution for her efforts. She seemed to fill my desire perfectly and I needed no other adventure or barrier to break as long as I had her.

I decided we must leave India, if she were to be the woman she desired in peace. That night, before I left, I snagged a blank passport from my desk. I intended to amend the document to reflect Chanda's information, allowing her passage out of the country.

I hurried home confident none had witnessed my crime.

I brought Chanda back to my flat, holding her to me on the rickshaw I hired to ease her travel. I showed her the passport I had stolen and explained my notion to her. She didn't know much about emigration or transportation but trusted that I knew what I was doing.

I recorded her information pertaining to the passport and then put her to bed. Feeding her and talking to her from my desk while I worked on more tentative plans of escape.

I would say the name of a country and she would respond with her opinion of it.

"France."

"Are all men like you there?"

I chuckled and said, "No, actual Frenchmen live there."

"Ah, then no thank you."

"China."

She thought for a moment.

"Maybe."

"Hmm, alright. How about Egypt?"

"Still under the control of England."

"True."

And so our night continued, until it was time to walk her home. We took the Main Street to avoid any risk and only a few stared at us as we passed.

The Lady thanked me for my devotion to Chanda and told me she only continued to let her work with me because of how I treated her.

I thanked her and wished her Godspeed in catching the fiends who assaulted my Chanda.

I truly appreciated her allowing me see her as often as I did but understood I would have to betray that trust very soon.

I bid them both goodnight and returned home, eager to go to work the next day to continue working on our escape.

The next day I brushed past Cadence on the street walking to the consulate. The man didn't even give me a second glance as I passed. He was content to threaten my livelihood but not face me as the man who brought me to the brothel in the first place.

I put him out of my head and focused on Chanda's passport between authentic ones, though I endeavored to make it indistinguishable.

It filled me with pleasure to mark her sex down as female, and her name as Chanda, paired with my own last name.

I finished the document and stamped it, comparing it to the other passports. I placed it in my bag like a delicate gift, one for Chanda. The rest of the day dragged on as I anticipated visiting Chanda and presenting it to her.

Night came and Chanda didn't feel well enough to walk so we spent the night in her room. I handed the passport to her after kissing her forehead.

"So quickly you finished it," she remarked. "Can you help me open it, dear?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, getting off my chair to turn the pages for her. I flipped through the uninteresting information and showed her the identification page.

She recognized her name but needed me to explain what each word said.

She clutched it to her breast when I finished and caressed my cheek. I leaned in and kissed her lips, gently and softly.

"I love you, my woman."

She smiled and her eyes sparkled with the tears she held back.

"As I love you," she said.

We talked and dreamed, and planned to leave once Chanda's armed healed. I returned her passport to my person for safekeeping until the time to flee came. I kissed her goodnight and walked down the stairs, the usual waiting assembly of prostitutes sitting in wait of customers on the sofas of the entry room struggling to ignore each other.

I was caught off guard by Cadence, standing with his hands on his hips before the door.

He shook his head at me and I tried to get past him to the door but he remained in the way.

"Cadence," I said in a measured tone, "Get out of my way."

He scoffed and sidestepped, only to push me out the door when I was around him. I stumbled down the steps and fell onto my elbows on the dirty sidewalk.

I scrambled to my feet and raised my fists. I had tired of everyone's senseless meddling in my affairs. Cadence's being most uninterpretable for he had been my friend as far as I knew.

"That's enough!" I seethed. "Come down here, Cadence."

He glared at me as he walked down the steps, each footfall landing hard. I had an inkling he was either bluffing or drunk, for he avoided me like the plague he thought I carried at the consulate.

"I wouldn't come near you, you fiend."

"Fiend! I'll show you a fiend, Cadence. A man trying to destroy me!"

I closed the distance between us and landed a jab into his jaw. He was only surprised and took a step back, raising his own fists.

"He's an abomination. And no one in this ghetto will care if I spread his lover across the road."

I growled at this insult to Chanda and bodily rushed him, catching him under the ribs and driving him into the pavement. I battered his face and head, my hands ached when I relented and he pushed me off of him. His fight was over, though and he cursed me as he held his bleeding nose.

He walked down the sidewalk without a look back, leaving a trail of red drops behind him.

The prostitutes watched huddled together in the doorway, as I hunched over trying to catch my breath. I spotted the Hijra who brought me to Chanda the other day and waved to her, attempting to put them at ease. She disappeared behind the doorway, the others smirking and following close behind.

The Lady of the House appeared and admonished me for causing trouble on her doorstep. She commanded me not to bring any more strife to her charges' lives.

I bowed my head in deference and told her I would visit Chanda again the next day.

My hands ached fiercely the next morning. My knuckles were bruised and swollen; If I had any chance of denying I beat Cadence, it was dashed.

And sure enough, the consulate general was awaiting me in my office. I took a deep breath and opened the door, every eye in the hall on me.

He scowled at me as I entered and didn't even wait for me to sit before pronouncing my fate.

"Monsieur, I do not have to say anything, do I?"

It was a rhetorical question as he continued once my lips separated to hazard an answer.

"No. You are dismissed from this assignment. You will board the Ten o'clock train back to Paris tomorrow, and you will not set foot on any platform on the way until you reach Gare du Nord."

He rose from my chair and dropped a box of my personal office items on the desk.

I grabbed the box and looked into his eyes. There were no more chances.

"Farewell."

Consulate guards followed me from a distance, calm and collected but their attention wholly on me. I desired no more trouble and walked home as confidently as I could.

It was settled for us; we were leaving India.

I began to get excited at the realization. Chanda and I could have our new life together.

I packed my bags and withdrew all my funds from the bank before rushing to the brothel to give her the news.

She was worried because of the destructive end to my relationship with French government but overall she looked forward to the future as much as I did. Her arm was slightly better and it hung around her neck in a sling.

I told her to meet me at my flat the next morning at eight, so we could depart together. We would board a train, but not for France. We didn't know our destination yet, but we would know what felt right.

I was unsure how the French would take the sleight. For I had assaulted another citizen and government servant. They would not know I had not boarded a Paris-bound train until I did not arrive, and I believed we would be far enough away to be a lost cause in their eyes.

I kissed Chanda and told her to rest well before our journey. She promised she would and thanked me for taking her with me.

"I wouldn't leave without you, Chanda."

She smiled but it was tinged by sadness.

"What is it, Chanda? Do you wish to stay, instead?"