From Cauvery to Ganga

Chapter 36: The Choice That Wasn't a Choice

I sat on the edge of the small cot in Nithya’s private room, still fully dressed as Sunita.

The faded blue saree was damp with sweat from the long day. The tight blouse clung uncomfortably to my back and underarms, the hooks pressing deep red marks into my skin. The mangalsutra felt heavier than usual against my chest, its black beads warm from my body heat. The permanent silver anklets and toe rings jingled softly every time I shifted my feet on the cool floor. My long oiled hair hung loosely over one shoulder, a few strands sticking to my moist neck.

Nithya stood in front of me, arms crossed, watching me with a mixture of worry and frustration.

“Raj… you can go back now,” she said quietly. “Robby is ready. We can start the removal process tomorrow. In a week, maximum ten days, you’ll be Satyaraj again. Fully. Your body, your voice, your life. Everything back to normal.”

I looked down at my hands, rough now, with small cuts and darkened skin from weeks of hard labour. The glass bangles on my wrists caught the light.

I wanted to say yes.

I wanted to scream “Yes, take all of this off me right now!” I wanted to burn every saree, rip off the mangalsutra, smash the permanent anklets, and run back to my Thar, my AC room, my old arrogant, carefree life.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, I whispered, voice soft and feminine:

“If I go back now… what happens to them?”

Nithya stayed silent.

I continued, tears welling up in my kohl-lined eyes.

“Pihu will lose her mother again. Ramesh will be left broken, possibly facing legal issues and debt. The real Sunita… she’s finally free, living as a man, building her own life. She doesn’t want to come back. And my family… they’re still the same. Racist. Superior. Treating people like me, like servants, as lesser beings.”

I looked up at her.

“If I leave now… nothing changes. Everything stays broken. Satyaraj comes back, old Sunita stays runaway, Pihu grows up without a mother, Ramesh suffers, and my family continues being… them.”

Nithya sat down beside me, taking my bangle-covered hand in hers.

“Raj… this isn’t your responsibility. You’ve already done more than anyone could ask.”

I shook my head slowly, pallu slipping off my shoulder.

“I know. But I can’t just walk away anymore. Not after everything. Not after living as Sunita. Not after holding Pihu while she cried. Not after seeing how my own family treats people like her.”

I took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’ll stay. As Sunita. For now. Until I can fix at least some of this. Until Pihu is stable. Until Ramesh has support. Until I can do something about my family’s attitude. After that… I can transform back.”

Nithya looked upset. Her eyes filled with conflict.

“I want my boyfriend back,” she whispered. “I miss Satyaraj. The real one.”

“I know,” I said softly, squeezing her hand. “I miss him too. But right now… I have to be Sunita a little longer. For everyone to have a chance at a better ending.”

She was quiet for a long time.

Finally, she nodded, though reluctantly.

“…Okay. We’ll do it your way. But promise me, the moment it becomes too much, you tell me. We pull you out.”

I nodded.

The next few days, I threw myself deeper into the role.

I continued the routine with painful dedication, waking early, cooking, cleaning, taking care of Pihu, going to the factory. But now there was purpose behind it. I started saving every rupee I earned. I spoke more with the colony women, learning about their struggles. I quietly helped a few of them with small things, teaching basic Tamil to children, helping with paperwork when I could.

And I started planning.

I would go back to Gounder Illam. Not as Satyaraj. But as a servant. A migrant Bihari woman. I would work there, observe, and slowly try to plant seeds of change. Show them the humanity behind the “these Bihari people” they looked down on.

It was humiliating.

But it felt necessary.

One evening, as I sat on the floor feeding Pihu, Ramesh watched me quietly.

“You don’t have to stay anymore,” he said gently. “The month is over. Pihu is better now.”

I looked at the little girl in my lap, then at him.

“I know. But I want to stay a little longer. For her. For all of you.”

Ramesh didn’t argue. He simply nodded, a complex emotion in his eyes.

That night, as I lay on the hard mat with Pihu in the middle and Ramesh on the other side, I stared at the ceiling.

The permanent anklets felt cool against my skin. The mangalsutra rested between my breasts. My body, softer, curvier, undeniably feminine now, ached from the day’s work.

I whispered to myself in the darkness:

“I can go back. I want to go back. But not yet. Not like this.”

A happy ending for everyone.

That was what I was fighting for now.

Even if it meant staying Sunita Devi a little longer.

Even if it hurt.

Even if I didn’t know where this path would ultimately lead.