People Story 1

I am Robin, I am 22 years old. I grew up in the heart of Gopalganj city on the banks of Madhumati in the midst of the strict rule of a single family.

The memory of my childhood is that my relatives thought I was a Hijra. They used to crowd around me to see this strange zoo animal called Hijra. There are many who wanted to open my pants by showing greed for chocolate. My childhood was spent in extreme panic, this society and family took away all the joys of my childhood from me for my sexual mark.

From my childhood, I liked my sisters’ small saris, their clothes, cosmetics. I also don’t feel comfortable with my pet yet. As a child, I used to cut tree flowers, paper and make jewelry, wear sari secretly and apply my mother’s lipstick. Every lipstick has a scent, in that scent I find my essence.

One day my little uncle saw me in such a situation and complained to my father. My father beat me severely. The five fingerprints of my father’s hand on my cheek and back are very obvious. He grabbed me by the throat and threw me on the wall. Blood flowed through one corner of the head. With my two eyes, the stream of endless tears and the blood coming out of my head seemed to merge into one. Seeing my blood coming out like this, my mother hugged me and said, “Robin’s father, for God’s sake, you don’t want him anymore.” He is a small man and doesn’t understand so much, then he also beat his mother. I was very scared then when I heard the sound of my mother’s crying my eyes were getting dark. When I regained consciousness I was in the hospital bed.

Since then you know this sari, when I see cosmetics I get scared and I get the smell of blood in the middle of lipstick.

When I was in 8th class, my classmates were having physical changes like beards and mustaches. My classmates look at me and laugh and say, is your machine small or not …..

A few classmates come from time to time and say, “I’m sorry, my friend.”

I never used my school bathroom, it was broken and dirty. I had to stay at school from 10 am to 4 pm. All in all it was very uncomfortable and painful for me. I was always terrified that if anyone saw my sex sign they would laugh and tickle me more. I may not be able to attend this school.

I enjoyed participating in cultural activities in addition to my studies. I regularly practiced recitation at the Children’s Academy. One day in the verandah of Shishu Academy, a crowd of people was looking at a notice saying that the presenter would be selected through an audition to conduct the National Children’s Day program. I also gave my name in this competition. On the day of the audition he handed me a paper in front of the judge and asked me to read it. I tried to read correctly with my mind. The results were released a few days later and I was selected to present this National Children’s Day event. It’s one of the happiest moments of my life.

We rehearsed for two months in a row. The country’s best presenter, talkative artist has trained us so that we can present a beautiful ceremony to the Hon’ble Prime Minister.

In the same year I became the first in Bangladesh to recite poetry. On the day of the ceremony, the Prime Minister handed over my medal to me for reciting poetry. Again he saw that I was presenting. I and the Prime Minister were very close. At the end of the ceremony, the Prime Minister gestured with his eyes to come here. I ran to the Prime Minister but her bodyguards blocked my way and said there was a security threat …. I said I will provide security to the girl in my area and her bodyguards stared at me. The Prime Minister is listening to me from a distance and smiling then he said I called him, let him come here then the Prime Minister said you have presented very well. Robin looked at my card and said where do you study, what is your home area … he took my identity. Then he asked me about my dream of what I want to be when I grow up. I said I want to be a prime minister. The Prime Minister put his hand on my head and said you will be a good Prime Minister I pray …….. Then he invited me to go to Ganobhaban.

Our program was broadcast live on different channels in Bangladesh. Everyone including Sir Maam of my school has seen the program. The next morning, a picture of the Prime Minister came with me in some of the popular national dailies of the country. In school, I became a celebrity. A few days later, DC called our headmaster K. Take me to the DC office. We went to the DC office DC Sir appreciated the presentation of the program and gave me many more pictures with the Prime Minister.

From then on, I never had to look back. I was regularly presenting school, district administration, art programs. It was as if I was finding myself in the middle of this presentation.

But that happiness did not last long. Everyone started saying that if the presenter doesn’t have a beard, it doesn’t look manly, it feels good. It would have been better if the neck was a little thicker. I could not find my nature in their words. So I squeezed my throat and gave up my love, that is, I left the presentation. I have repeatedly killed my being, never for family or for people in society. O people of the society, my family, do you understand the pain of my self-sacrifice? Yet I get lost in the stage of any presentation.

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