A Nyaaya Christmas Story- Part 2

To read Part one of our Christmas Story, visit here.

This Christmas, Nyaaya takes you through the story of Riya, a journalist, and her partner Dev.. 

Riya grew up in a small town, where life was not always kind to those who identified as her. She came out to her brother in her teens. After moving to Bengaluru to pursue her journalism career, she began her transition journey. Her contact with her parents and extended family back home has been minimal since then. She met Dev at a time of mutual transition for both of them. She was beginning her gender transition journey, while he was transitioning into a new role as a full-time teacher.

They now live together in a small rented apartment in Bengaluru.

This Christmas, Riya decides she will celebrate the festival in her own way by finally completing the paperwork to update her gender identity across all her official documents. “What better way to end the year than by completing something I’ve always wanted to do!y” 

‘Tis the Season for Paperwork

Riya had already applied for her gender identity certificate long back, as specified under Chapter 3 of the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019. But now it was time for  the real test: linking it with her Aadhaar, PAN card, and passport.

She started with the passport. At the government office, she stood in line, holding a thick folder. When her turn came, the clerk squinted at her papers, looking bewildered and confused, almost with a hint of irritation, as if the very paperwork offended him. He frowned, muttered something under his breath, and called over a colleague for a second opinion. Neither of them seemed to fully understand the process, and after a long, awkward pause, he asked her to wait. A few minutes later, he picked up the phone, whispered something  into it. Finally, he turned to her and said with a curt, dismissive tone, “I spoke to my supervisor and he says that you’ll have to bring a medical certificate.”

Riya sighed heavily. She knows this isn’t true. The law no longer requires a medical certificate for self-identification. Under Section 4 of the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Rules, 2020, a formal application and an affidavit are sufficient to prove one’s gender identity. With great restraint, she said, “Sir, under the law, I’m not required to submit medical proof. Could you please check the 2020 Rules? You can easily find it online.”

The clerk looked puzzled. “But my supervisor said a medical certificate is needed,” he stammered. The people at the back of the line glanced over, curious about the skirmish unfolding. After a short, tense silence, he agreed to call his superior again and this time returned with a nod after explaining the new developments into the phone. “Fine, you’re right.” he said while putting away his phone. “You already have the letter from the District Magistrate, so no further medical documentation is needed.”

As she walked out, Riya felt a tinge of pride and sorrow. Pride that she stood up for herself in a humiliating public setting. Yet she also felt sad — at the all-too-familiar public humiliation and the repeated need to prove her identity to the outside world. It felt as though the state itself was reminding her why her basic rights are not fully recognized. 

God Rest Ye Merry ‘Gentle’men, May Nothing You Dismay

The next day, Riya found herself facing another challenge,  this time with her healthcare provider.

Her endocrinologist, the one who managed her hormone therapy for years, had moved their practice to another city. 

She needed a thyroid and hormone panel done immediately. It was standard practice for anyone on long-term hormone therapy to undergo testing every few months, but for her, it felt urgent because she had experienced a dizzy spell while waiting in line at the passport office. She just wanted to make sure everything was okay.

After several phone calls and two dead ends, she found a small clinic about three kilometers from her home. Filled with unease, she booked an appointment and went the next morning.

The receptionist handed a form to Riya. Riya read it and paused.

Sex:

Male / Female (the form read)

“No “Other” option” Riya sighed.

This omission felt personal. Either way, she circled ‘Female’ and handed the form back.

Inside the consultation room, the doctor looked through the prescriptions she had brought along.

“So, you’ve been on hormone replacement therapy for around five years,” he said, his tone was neutral but curious. “We’ll monitor your estradiol and testosterone levels as well as your thyroid. The dizziness could be stress, but we’ll check everything. Standard protocol.”

Standard, yes. But never simple.

On her way out, Riya realized that while the doctor had been polite and used the she/her pronouns consistently, she still felt like a puzzle that was being assembled; like a test subject being studied.

She reminded herself that if she ever faced discrimination or harassment from medical personnel, she could take action under the law and seek support from lawyers or NGOs. Thankfully, that wouldn’t be necessary today.

A Marriage Under the Moonlight

Christmas night finally arrived. Riya and Dev’s friends gathered at their apartment for a small dinner party As the night progressed and laughter flowed alongside plum cake and hot chocolate, Riya looked up at Dev and said, “Next year, let’s get married.”

Dev grinned lovingly, but they both knew it would not be simple. The Supreme Court had said that transgender people have the right to marry in heterosexual marriages. Since Riya has her transgender certificate and Dev’s documents list him as male, the law would allow it. The problem will arise when Dev applies for his gender change certificate — a process he intentionally chose not to start in the middle of Riya’s documentation and health battles. Would the law still recognize their marriage as valid then? The law does not currently recognize same-sex marriages, and if Dev were to transition to female later, their marriage might become invalid!

“I have a better idea,” Dev said gently. “How about we celebrate our relationship our own way? We can have a small engagement party with friends and family. How about that? We could even invite the District Magistrate. I’m sure he’d be happy to come.”

“Sure,” Riya said warmly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. She leaned back against Dev, her shoulder resting on his neck, and quietly thought, “One day. It will not be this hard.” Oddly enough, Dev was thinking the same thing. “One day.”

Count Your Blessings

As they turned in for the night, Riya thought about everything they had faced—the confusion at the passport office, the uneasy moments at the clinic, and the countless times they had to explain or defend who they were. Yet tonight felt different. For once, the year was ending not in struggle, but in peace. They had made it through, and that was enough.

If there is any lesson to take away this Christmas, it is this: the true spirit of the season lies not just in celebration, but in compassion. Our laws may change slowly, our systems may take time to learn, but kindness and understanding can light even the darkest corners.