The Trap

Part 1 – The Many Faces of Tanish

At a crowded coffee shop in Hyderabad, three young men sat huddled around a table, their shoulders slouched in defeat. Their conversation was filled with frustration.

“Bro, we worked so hard in college, and still no job. Just because we studied in a B-grade engineering college, no company is even looking at our resumes,” one of them said, stirring his empty coffee cup.

“Even the interviews we cleared… they rejected us just by looking at the college name,” another added, his tone heavy with despair.

Seated at the next table was Tanish, a man in his late twenties. His sharp eyes caught every word. A mischievous smile crept across his face as he leaned over to their table.

“Excuse me, brothers,” Tanish said smoothly, adjusting his leather jacket. “I couldn’t help overhearing. You are from the same college as me, aren’t you?”

The three looked up, surprised. “Yes… you too?” one asked with curiosity.

Tanish nodded confidently. “Same college, same struggles. But you know what? I found my way out. Today I am earning 45K per month. Not because I was brilliant… but because I knew the right door to knock. Or shall I say, the back door.”

The three graduates exchanged hopeful glances. For the first time in weeks, their eyes lit up.

“Back door? What do you mean?” asked one, leaning forward.

Tanish lowered his voice, as though sharing a secret. “There are people in companies… HR, managers… who allow entry if you can pay the price. I only had to pay three lakhs as down payment, and within a month, I was placed with a six lakh per annum package. No struggle, no waiting.”

The boys listened in awe. His words felt like the only ray of hope in their dark tunnel.

“But… will it work for us?” one asked nervously.

Tanish smiled reassuringly. “Of course, my friends. I can connect you to the same network. You just need to arrange three lakhs each. Think of it as an investment. Jobs worth lakhs are waiting for you.”

The hook was set. Tanish gave them his contact number and walked away casually, sipping his coffee. Behind his calm smile, his mind was already counting the money.

A week later, the three graduates called him, desperate. They had borrowed money, mortgaged jewellery, even sold their bikes. Each handed over three lakhs to Tanish, believing in his honey-coated words.

And true to his claim, within weeks, they actually got jobs. Their joy knew no bounds, and their trust in Tanish was sealed.

But good times don’t last long when the foundation is built on lies. Within a month, the truth exploded like a bomb. The racket was exposed, and all those who entered through Tanish’s so-called “back door” were thrown out of their jobs. Their careers shattered, and their savings gone.

And Tanish? He had already vanished, moving on to his next scheme.

In another part of the city, he now played a different role. Wearing crisp formals and carrying a leather folder, he introduced himself as a real estate manager.

“Sir, this land is in prime location, near the upcoming ring road project. Normally it would cost fifty lakhs, but I can get it for you at thirty-five. Only because I have the right contacts in the registration office,” he would say, charming his victims with confidence.

Families who had dreamt of owning a small plot trusted him. He even arranged “smooth registrations” by joining hands with a corrupt officer inside the government office. Papers, seals, everything looked official.

But what they didn’t know was that the same land had been registered multiple times, sold to different people.

Money poured in for Tanish, and with every deal, his smile grew wider.

By the time the victims realized the truth, Tanish was gone. The story splashed across newspapers and TV channels. “Fraudulent Real Estate Agent Dupes Families,” the headlines screamed.

Yet, while the public cursed his name, Tanish was already plotting his next disguise, his next act.

For him, cheating was not a crime—it was a way of life.

Part 2 – The Murder Trap

Tanish’s web of fraud kept growing, spreading across different cities under different names. Sometimes he was “Rahul,” a financial consultant promising fake investments. Sometimes he became “Arun,” a property dealer selling plots on forged papers. Other times, he disguised himself as “Ravi,” running shady job consultancy firms. Each time, he duped people, made lakhs, and vanished before the law caught up with him.

But his rising notoriety had reached the ears of powerful people. One such man was Mallaiah Naidu, a local politician feared for his clout and underground dealings. One evening, Tanish received a call.

“Mr. Tanish,” the rough voice echoed over the line, “come and meet me tomorrow. I have a proposal that will make you richer than all your petty scams.”

Curious, Tanish arrived at Mallaiah’s farmhouse. The atmosphere was tense, with bodyguards stationed at every corner. Mallaiah, draped in a crisp white dhoti, sat cross-legged, sipping whisky.

“Tanish,” he said with a smirk, “I’ve heard of your cleverness. Your talent is being wasted on small frauds. Join hands with me. I run a substance network—supply, distribution, everything. You handle the money laundering. We share the profits.”

For a moment, Tanish was tempted. But then he leaned back, flashed his cunning smile, and replied,
“Sir, I can cheat banks, job seekers, land buyers. But I won’t dirty my hands by spoiling people’s health. Drugs and substances… that’s a line I will not cross.”

Mallaiah’s expression changed instantly. His eyes darkened. He poured the whisky down in one gulp and gestured to his men.
“You refuse me, Tanish? Do you think you can walk away after learning my secrets? Kill him.”

Three goons rushed forward with knives. Tanish’s mind raced. With the agility of a cornered fox, he pushed a chair into one man, toppled a table onto another, and smashed a bottle on the third’s head. In the chaos, he escaped through the back door into the fields. His heart pounded as he ran for his life. It was a narrow escape—a reminder of how deep he had sunk into dangerous waters.

But destiny had something darker waiting.

That very night, news broke that Mallaiah Naidu was murdered in his home. Police stormed the farmhouse, sealed the area, and began a forensic sweep. Within hours, crime scene investigators found fingerprints on a whisky glass, a half-broken chair, and even blood stains near the window.

The forensic lab report came back—the prints matched Tanish.

By morning, every newspaper headline screamed:
“Notorious Fraudster Tanish Suspected in Politician’s Murder”
“Conman Turns Killer—Police on Nationwide Hunt”

The ruling party erupted in chaos. Mallaiah was not just a politician; he was a key strategist for the Chief Minister. His murder shook the corridors of power. The Home Ministry wasted no time—this case needed the sharpest mind in the system.

That’s when CBI Additional DGP Jhansi entered the scene.

Known for her fearlessness and razor-sharp instincts, Jhansi was famous for cracking impossible cases. She stood in front of cameras, her firm voice echoing confidence:

“Tanish will not escape. He has fooled the public for years, but this time, he will face justice. I promise the people of this state—I will put him behind bars.”

Meanwhile, Tanish sat in a dimly lit hideout, glued to the TV, watching her speech. His usual arrogant smirk had vanished. Sweat rolled down his temple.

“Jhansi?” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. “Of all people, why her?”

He knew Jhansi’s reputation—relentless, incorruptible, and dangerously intelligent. Unlike the gullible masses he had cheated, Jhansi could see through his tricks.

For the first time in his life, Tanish felt fear—not of the police, not of prison, but of being trapped for a crime he hadn’t committed.

“Yes, I cheated people,” he muttered to himself, staring at the flickering television. “But murder? Never. I’m not a killer!”

Yet the fingerprints, the forensic evidence, the media—all pointed at him. His name was now permanently tied to blood.

And sitting alone in the hideout, Tanish closed his eyes and revisited his past. The scams, the betrayals, the greed—it all flashed before him.

This time, there was no way to bribe, no way to escape. Because Jhansi was coming.

Part 3: Shelter in Disguise

The small rented house smelled faintly of incense and burnt oil lamps. The television in the corner was still flashing Jhansi’s stern face, declaring to the public that “Tanish will be brought to justice.” Every word fell like a hammer on Tanish’s chest. His palms were sweaty, his legs weak, and his throat dry.

Just then, Swapna entered with a steel plate carrying some food.

Swapna (softly): “Anna, eat something… you haven’t touched a grain since morning.”
Tanish (sighing, eyes lowered): “Swapna… how can I eat? My eyes are wet with my memories. I cheated so many people, took their hard-earned money. And now… I’m accused of a murder I never committed. Even if I want to fight for my innocence, who will believe me? Jhansi won’t spare me. She’s waiting for this chance since our college days.”

Swapna placed the plate in front of him and sat close. Her big kohl-lined eyes softened with concern.

Swapna: “Anna, don’t lose hope. You once saved me when no one cared. Do you remember? I was lying on the roadside after that accident. People just passed by. You took me to hospital, stayed till I got discharged. You didn’t know me then, yet you helped me. Today it’s my turn.”

Before Tanish could respond, they both heard heavy boots and a knock on the door.

Police voice (from outside): “Open the door! Police check!”

Tanish’s face drained of colour. He grabbed Swapna’s hand in desperation.

Tanish (whispering fast): “Swapna… they’re here. Please… hide me. I don’t want to rot in prison for a crime I didn’t do.”
Swapna (thinking quickly): “First, your phone. Give me your SIM card.”

Tanish fumbled in panic. Swapna snatched the small card, broke it into pieces with her teeth, and flushed it down a glass of water.

Swapna (urgent whisper): “Now listen to me. Don’t ask questions. Sit here.”

She pulled out a faded cotton saree from the trunk, wrapped it around him, and tied his hair into a loose ponytail with a rubber band. She covered his face with the pallu, leaving just the eyes visible.

Swapna: “Sit in front of Durga mata photo. Fold your hands. Chant if you can. You are not Tanish now. You are my Guru maa.”

Tanish’s heart pounded, but he obeyed. He sat cross-legged, trembling, and muttered, “Jai maa…” under his breath.

The police banged harder. Swapna took a deep breath, adjusted her dupatta, and opened the door.

Constable 1 (suspiciously): “What are you doing? We are searching this lane. A criminal is hiding here.”
Swapna (confidently, with a half-smile): “Arrey sir, only I and my Guru maa are here. She is doing Durga maa’s pooja. Please come in, take her blessings, and go.”

The constable leaned inside, his eyes falling on Tanish’s covered figure. Tanish didn’t dare move. His hands shook, but he pressed them together in prayer, bowing low.

Constable 2 (impatiently): “Don’t waste time with this lady. We are losing the mobile signal. Let’s check the next house.”

The men turned and left. Swapna slowly closed the door, her heart beating as fast as Tanish’s.

She turned, dropped to her knees before Tanish, and touched his feet playfully.

Swapna (grinning, whispering): “Bless me, Guru maa… That was a close call!”

For the first time in days, a faint smile touched Tanish’s lips. But deep inside, fear still ruled.

Tanish (seriously): “Swapna… I can’t live like this forever. They will catch me one day.”
Swapna (determined): “Then we’ll find another way. I have an idea… it’s risky, but it might save you. From today, you are not Tanish anymore. You’ll become someone new.”

Her eyes sparkled with both mischief and courage. For Tanish, it was the first ray of hope in his dark world.

And what Swapna planned next… was going to change the course of his life.

Part 4 – Tanish’s Transformation Begins

Swapna knew that the police wouldn’t stop searching. Tanish couldn’t remain hidden in the corner of her little rented room forever. He had to blend in, become invisible in plain sight. And the only way was to transform him completely.

That evening, Swapna went to the transgender community in her area. She approached her Guru maa, Radha, and with folded hands narrated the entire story.

Swapna (pleading): “Guru maa, once this man saved my life when I met with an accident. Nobody even looked at me that day, but he took me to the hospital. Today he is in trouble, accused of a crime he did not commit. I want to pay him back by protecting him.”

Radha listened calmly, her eyes sharp with experience. The other members of the community, Keerti and Jenny, were nearby.

Radha: “Swapna, hiding him is risky. If police find out, all of us will suffer. Our homes, our dignity, everything will be questioned.”

Swapna (desperate): “I know, Guru maa. But I cannot abandon him. Please… I beg you.”

Radha finally spoke after a long silence.

Radha: “Alright. We will help. But there is one condition. If he has to live among us, he must live as one of us. He must follow our rules, our rituals, and accept this identity fully. Otherwise, he is not safe.”

Swapna’s eyes filled with relief. She immediately agreed. With Guru maa’s blessing, Keerti and Jenny accompanied her back to her house to begin the transformation.

When they knocked, Tanish nervously opened the door, still wrapped in a cotton saree. His eyes widened in shock seeing two strangers walk in.

Tanish (whispering): “Who are they, Swapna? Why did you bring others here?”

Swapna (calmly): “Don’t panic, Anna. They are my sisters, Keerti and Jenny. They will help us keep you safe.”

As soon as they entered, Keerti and Jenny clapped their hands in the traditional hijra style and teased him.

Keerti (laughing): “Arey wah, what a beauty! Chickney! You already look like one of us.”

Jenny: “So delicate… if police see you like this, they’ll never guess you are Tanish. Guru maa was right, you can be saved.”

Tanish didn’t respond. He lowered his head, humiliated, remembering his college days. Back then, he used to tease girls, force them for kisses, laugh at their helplessness. Now, the tables had turned. He felt the sting of his own sins.

Keerti sat cross-legged on the floor and spoke firmly.

Keerti: “Listen carefully, Tanish. Hiding you is not easy. If we do this, you must follow our rules. No male clothes anymore. From today, you live as a woman. You eat with us, dress like us, behave like us. Only then will the community protect you.”

Jenny (nodding): “And if you don’t, then sorry, we cannot risk our lives for you.”

Tanish swallowed his pride. His voice trembled.

Tanish: “I have no choice. I will do whatever you say. Just give me time… I need to prove my innocence.”

Jenny immediately stood up and snapped her fingers.

Jenny: “Good. Then transformation begins now.”

Keerti pulled out a small suitcase filled with beauty tools. She grabbed the end of Tanish’s saree and tugged it off.

Tanish (shocked): “Arrey! What are you doing?”

Keerti (mocking): “What is the use of this when you’re going to wear saree like us? Don’t be shy, Chickney.”

Tanish’s face turned red with humiliation. He wanted to protest but his strength was gone. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Jenny (scolding): “Stop crying like a child! If you want to live in this world, you need to be strong. Otherwise, society will crush you.”

Keerti boiled wax in a small pot and began waxing his arms and chest. Tanish winced and sobbed with every pull.

Keerti (mocking): “Aiyo! This much crying? What will you do when real pain comes?”

Jenny took a thread and shaped his eyebrows into thin arches. Then she shaved his face clean and brought out a small hand-held laser machine.

Jenny (strictly): “Don’t move. This will hurt. But it’s necessary.”

Each shot stung like fire. Tanish gritted his teeth, silently thinking, “Maybe this is punishment for all the sins I committed.”

Swapna, watching from the corner, felt pity. Her eyes softened, but she knew this was the only way.

Just as they were about to leave, Jenny suddenly stopped.

Jenny: “Arey, we forgot something important! His ears and nose.”

Keerti grinned and took out a piercing gun.

Tanish (terrified): “No! Please, not that…”

But before he could resist, click-click!—two quick shots pierced his earlobes, followed by one sharp piercing on his left nostril.

Tanish (screaming softly): “Ahh! Enough! Please…”

Jenny smirked.

Jenny: “Now you look complete. From today, no more male clothes. Daily saree only. You will join our activities, clap with us, dance with us, bless people with us. Only then you are safe.”

Keerti packed her things and added sternly:

Keerti: “And remember—if you get caught, we all get punished. So follow our rules. Otherwise, you are on your own.”

Tanish sat exhausted, his body aching, his face burning. The mirror in front of him reflected a stranger—a fragile, feminine figure with red eyes and a saree draped awkwardly.

Swapna came forward, placed her hand gently on his shoulder, and whispered:

Swapna: “Anna, be strong. This is the only way.”

Tanish closed his eyes, his tears falling silently. His punishment had begun.

Part 5: The Silent Transformation

Days slowly turned into weeks, and Tanish had now become Tania in the transgender community under the strict guidance of Guru Maa Radha. Outwardly, he wore sarees, jewelry, and makeup like the others, but within, he still carried his masculine instincts. His posture, the way he walked, even the sharpness of his voice at times—all betrayed him.

Swapna constantly shielded him, covering up whenever his slip-ups almost exposed his truth. But Guru Maa Radha wasn’t blind. She had observed him closely and often felt a growing uneasiness about hiding him within the community.

One afternoon, the group was invited to the home of a senior police officer to bless his newborn child. As was customary, the chelas danced, clapped, and sang in their typical high-pitched tones. Tania, with trembling hands, tried to blend in. The bright silk saree and stuffed blouse gave him an appearance of belonging—but destiny played a cruel joke.

As the group swayed, one of the oranges tucked into Tania’s blouse slipped out, rolled on the floor, and stopped near the feet of a female constable who stood watching. Her sharp eyes immediately caught the oddity. She frowned, stepped forward, and pulled Tania aside.

“Arrey, who are you really? Show me your Aadhaar,” the constable demanded, suspicion rising in her voice.

Tania froze. His hands shook. His lips quivered but no words came. Just then, Guru Maa Radha intervened, placing her protective hand on Tania’s shoulder.

“This chela is new,” Radha explained calmly, her tone firm but sweet. “She is preparing for her surgery soon, that is why she struggles sometimes. Don’t worry, she is one of us.”

The constable wasn’t fully convinced but out of respect for Radha, she let the matter drop. The group finished their blessing and left the police quarters in silence.

That evening, a heavy atmosphere filled Radha’s home. She called for a private meeting with her chelas—but excluded Tania. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Radha looked at Swapna with stern eyes.

“Swapna,” Radha began, “this boy cannot be hidden anymore. Today was just one incident. Tomorrow the police will drag him away and we all will suffer. It is too dangerous.”

Swapna folded her hands, her eyes moist. “Guru Maa, please. Tanish once saved my life. I owe him everything. Don’t abandon him now. Help me protect him. I will take the responsibility.”

Radha exhaled deeply, thinking. Finally, she spoke:
“There is only one way. If he is to stay, he must not just look like us from outside—he must become one of us, at least in appearance. You must start giving him estrogen. Only then can he survive among us without suspicion.”

Swapna’s heart sank. She knew the consequences of such a path, but she also knew she had no choice. With a heavy nod, she agreed.

From the next day, Swapna quietly began mixing strong estrogen dosages into Tanish’s morning coffee. At first, he noticed nothing. But soon, small changes crept in. His hand gestures grew softer, his facial expressions gentler. He even began noticing an odd sensation in his chest—a tender bulge forming slowly.

One evening, as they sat together, Tanish hesitantly asked, “Swapna… can you see any difference? My chest… it feels strange. Like… like something is growing.”

Swapna forced a smile, hiding her guilt. “Arrey, that’s just because of the bra you are wearing every day. Don’t worry, it is temporary. Once you go back to your old life, it will all vanish.”

Her words calmed him, but deep inside, Tanish wasn’t fully convinced.

That same night, Swapna went to Radha’s room and confessed everything. “Guru Maa, I gave him the doses as you told me. He is changing, slowly. But he still doesn’t know the truth.”

Radha looked at her with an unshakable seriousness.
“Swapna, remember what I told you from the first day—if he wants to live, he must sacrifice. This is his only chance. And listen carefully, today the police came to my home and asked about him. Somehow, I managed with my words. But how long do you think we can keep fooling them? Times have changed. Police no longer leave things easily. Understand the situation—it is becoming dangerous day by day.”

Swapna lowered her head, her heart heavy with both fear and pity. She had promised to save Tanish, but in doing so, she had unknowingly begun shaping him into someone entirely different—into Tania.