Be a DJ, and chill

Some tend to understand their gender and sexuality over time after exploration. Anmol always knew he was a boy, the society didn’t. Born a girl, his parents had named him Samali. “Whenever my mother would dress me up as a girl, I would go stand under a tap just so that I could change into the clothes I liked. I loved being a boy.” Family support was vital in early struggles with mainstream society, his maternal grandmother, Kaushalya, being the biggest strength. “She was cool about it. My mother, although uncomfortable sometimes, always put her children before everything else.”

As a struggling and harassed teen who had come to hate school – he changed several – Anmol wanted to know more about himself. “I was around 12. Dial-in internet was a new phenomenon then and I would extensively research on the topic. Two things hit me. One, being a transgender was primarily linked to gender dysphoria. Second, I wasn’t alone but there also weren’t many transgender men of colour – the forums mostly only had whites.”

Growing up in Noida (Uttar Pradesh) till the age of 25, Anmol hadn’t met any member of the community, making him feel more alone too. Life took a turn during his years as a medic.

How he chose to be in medicine is itself an anecdote. His sister, Nupur, suggested that with ‘Dr.’ as his prefix, he would get the liberty to not accept titles of Mr., Ms. or Mrs. “I was chuffed by her out-of-the-box thinking. Till then, I wanted to be a DJ and chill because I felt that no one would question my identity in this field; it seemed a welcoming path.” 

But his perceptions about the medical fraternity were about to be shattered. “Doctors are supposed to be above these norms but I experienced widespread transgender phobia.”

He decided this was not a good place to transition – the trauma would be too much. He moved to the UK in 2015 for a postgraduate degree in medicine. “It was like stepping into a different universe. I became a part of the university trans-collective on the second day of my arrival. I met people undergoing transition. I came to know that surgeries were free under the NHS. Life changed for the better and I decided that I would get SRS done here.”

Working with Stonewall, a Stockholm organisation for LGBTQ+ people, Anmol sensitised and trained medical professionals on treating community members.

Upon his return to India in 2018, Anmol associated himself with Project Echo which helps build capacities of underserved communities and came in touch with Laxmi Narayan Tripathi. “She impacted me in a big way. She has been such a force for the Indian transgender community. I tell my friends in India and abroad – had these torchbearers not stood up for us, we would have been nowhere. I can’t thank her enough.”

Together, they are now focusing on making good healthcare accessible to community members. It wouldn’t be dramatic to say that the women’s prophecy on the Glasgow bus has come true.

Dr. Anmol has been deeply involved in pushing for legislation and policies to fill the lacunae in healthcare – the disparity between enacting laws and their implementation, especially at the grassroots. “Is it fair to charge even minutely for simple documentation when many in the community are poor, uneducated or unemployed?”

He has been actively advocating insurance coverage for hormone treatment and SRS, neither of which is a cosmetic procedure but a necessity for transgender people to feel comfortable and get accepted in mainstream society. “Many are committing suicide, dealing with pressure from home and society, don’t have jobs because they don’t have access to what can help them become more confident and work towards their life goals.”