As part of the Pride Month collection, parents of transgender and queer individuals across India share their experiences of acceptance and love. In this personal story addressed to The Better India, Dr. Bela Sharma, Additional Director of Internal Medicine at FMRI in Gurgaon, along with her husband, Admiral (Dr.) Sanjay Sharma (retired), shares the story of their daughter's transition to womanhood.
The daughter tried to communicate her true self-identification from an early age, around one and a half or two years old. She identified as female, wore a dupatta, and bought a Barbie doll. The parents did not understand these manifestations, considering them merely imitation of her mother and grandmother or childhood games.
As she grew older, especially during puberty when illusions fade, adults often find explanations for unusual behavior, attributing it to 'typical teenage rebellion.' School accepted the child as long as she performed well academically; however, only one teacher noticed the issue and advised the child to wear long-sleeved shirts to conceal tattoos and marks from other students.
As doctors, they tried to find the causes of their daughter's unhappiness, proposing endless hypotheses. When their daughter returned to them as an adult, beautiful, and loving in 2016, they began searching for specialists capable of providing gender-affirming care in the country's capital. However, colleagues' advice ranged from accusations of 'Western influence' to suggestions to seek help abroad, as such care was supposedly unavailable in India.
The authors emphasize that Indian culture is rich with stories of gender diversity, and erasing this history is a genuine Western influence. They were able to find the right specialists because both were doctors and had access to relevant networks, as well as because their daughter had previously studied the WPATH Standards of Care (World Professional Association for Transgender Health).
Support came from family, friends, colleagues, and groups like SWEEKAR – The Rainbow Parents. Their father-in-law, who was 95 at the time, gave them special strength by saying, 'Your duty is to stand by your child. I am with you.' Ultimately, a turning point occurred in 2018: the daughter could move freely in the women's section and buy clothes without fear of judgment.
The author's husband, Admiral Dr. Sanjay Sharma (retired), was deeply concerned about the gaps in the healthcare system that he and his wife observed throughout his career. Recognizing that no path existed, they decided to build one. The author's husband left the Navy, attended WPATH conferences and courses on gender-affirming healthcare, founding ATHI (Association for Transgender Health in India). ATHI has two wings: IPATH (the professional wing) and KHEM (the social wing).
Since then, they have organized international conferences through IPATHCON, trained medical professionals, and conducted seminars across the country. In 2020, they published the first Indian Standards of Care (ISOC-1), recognizing the differences between Indian families, bodies, and social systems and those of the West. Today, ISOC is widely used as a guide for transgender healthcare across India.
Today, the authors advise other parents and children to accept what is happening gradually, 'one minute, one breath at a time.' They consider themselves chosen because they have been entrusted with an exceptional mission. They urge children to be patient with their parents, and parents to simply love their children unconditionally, as this is their primary task. Children exist not to fulfill the ambitions or dreams of their parents, but to live their own lives and learn from their mistakes.
A folk song passed down through generations reflects the reality of many villages in Bihar where men are forced to leave in search of better opportunities. Migration has long been an integral part of the social and cultural life of Bihar. However, a lack of local jobs combined with growing aspirations of the population in recent years has accelerated the exodus from rural areas.
Bihar has long served as a major source of labor for the country. As early as the 19th century, young people from this region began migrating due to widespread poverty and underdevelopment. After gaining independence, this trend continued, with migrants primarily heading to more developed states in India.
Today, residents of Bihar can be found across the country, holding diverse positions: from managing small businesses like tea stalls in Jammu and Kashmir, working in factories in Gujarat and Maharashtra, and participating in agriculture in Punjab and Haryana, to holding skilled, professional, and entrepreneurial roles in rapidly growing cities.
The decline of traditional industries, including sugar, jute, rice, flour, pulses, oilseed, and paper mills, coupled with the slow growth of local employment opportunities, keeps job creation a serious problem in Bihar. This outflow is evident at almost every railway station in the state, where trains heading to other parts of India are packed with young men leaving due to a combination of ambition and economic necessity.
It is estimated that about three million residents of Bihar work outside the state. Approximately one in four adults and two-thirds of households have a relative living far from home. Migration is no longer confined to the poor; it affects castes, classes, and communities. Nevertheless, it remains predominantly male, with women accounting for only about five percent of migrants.
Men leave villages in Bihar, often hoping to provide their families with a better standard of living. However, remittances are not the only outcome. The departure of men also changes the demographic composition of villages and transforms family dynamics.
The village of Baikatpur, located just 36 km from Patna, demonstrates the human cost of migration in Bihar. Ashok Kumar Dutta, a resident of this village, describes the situation as 'dystopian.' Speaking to The Times of India, he reported that men from almost every family have left in search of work in big cities. Although migration has slightly improved the economic condition of some families, it has also left villages populated mainly by women, children, and the elderly.
Dutta noted that 'when people leave, they do not take entire families with them. Those who migrate rarely earn as much as they hoped. As a result, instead of improvement, the family's economic situation often worsens.'
He added that 'the remaining women, as well as the elderly and children, are forced to take up any small job to make ends meet. Women from the poorest families have little choice but to work in the fields, planting rice and doing daily labor.'
Subhash Kumar, founder of Samadhan Kendra, an NGO in Vaishali district that works with women's self-help groups, presents a similar picture. He argues that mass migration has depleted the village economy and led to a severe shortage of labor. Even families planning to build a house often struggle to find enough workers.
Kumar told The Times of India: 'If you look at the villages today, it is natural that there are fewer young people. There are simply no sources of income here. When local jobs are absent, the youth have no choice but to leave.'
He emphasized that the reason for migration is that people believe they can earn better elsewhere, as they see more opportunities outside Bihar than at home.
In any society, it is commendable when women achieve economic and social independence. However, in Bihar, this shift often happens not by choice, but by necessity. Many women are forced to take on additional responsibilities beyond domestic duties, including roles they previously did not perform as frequently.
Subhash Kumar believes that a family cannot survive solely on meager remittances from migrants. To earn extra income, women often engage in livestock rearing or daily wage labor to maintain household function.
He explained that 'it is simply impossible today for an entire household to live only on the husband's earnings. Suppose the husband works outside the state and sends home 5000 or 10000 rupees every month. The family cannot live on just that money. If there is a wedding, a social event, a medical emergency, or any unforeseen expenses in an extended family, they need extra funds.'
Kumar also mentioned that if the husband falls ill or cannot send money for two or three months, the household finds itself in difficulty. In such situations, women take up daily work, working in the fields or wherever they can find employment. If there is no work, they engage in raising cows, buffaloes, or goats. Any small income from livestock helps sustain the family's functioning.
Nabanipa Bhattacharjee, a professor of sociology at Sri Venkateswara College, notes that seasonal migration, common in Bihar, often leads to a temporary gender imbalance in villages, where women predominate over men for most of the year. She calls this the 'feminization of agriculture.'
Professor Bhattacharjee pointed out that although women are forced to manage everything while men are away, the right to make important decisions still largely belongs to men. She also stressed that despite the growing role of women in villages, their workload and emotional stress from separation from their spouses have increased, but this does not always translate into greater social status or authority.
The Bihar government has launched a series of welfare programs aimed at the financial independence of rural women and enhancing the long-term viability of women-led enterprises. Programs such as Mukhyamantri Mahila Rojgar Yojana provide women from households with a grant of 10,000 rupees, with additional assistance up to 200,000 rupees tied to the progress of their enterprises.
Another poverty alleviation program, Jeevika, focuses on the social and economic empowerment of rural women by organizing them into self-help groups. These groups help women save money, acquire new skills, start small businesses, and become part of the formal economy. Jeevika has mobilized over 14 million women across Bihar into self-help groups, creating one of the largest women's collectives in the world.
Although initiatives such as self-help groups and community livelihood programs like Jeevika have contributed to increasing women's economic participation by promoting collective entrepreneurship and creating local earning opportunities, for many families, the success of these efforts is still determined by migration.
However, Subhash Kumar points out that these schemes operate within a complex rural economy. He says that direct financial aid can help women start working, but low purchasing power in villages and dependence on remittances continue to dictate the survival of small businesses. He warned that most women take loans, but even these loans depend on the men in the family. If the husband goes to work, loan payments are made on time while he sends money. But if the money stops coming for two, four, or even six months, how can the family avoid default?
This is the paradox of migration in Bihar: it gives families a lifeline, but it also leaves women bearing the burden of homes, farms, debts, and decisions that are not always their own. Until local employment becomes stable enough to keep men at home, the villages of Bihar will continue to function on two engines: money sent from outside, and the unpaid, undervalued, and often invisible labor of the women left behind.
Popular Punjabi singer Sunanda Sharma, known for songs like 'Jani Tera Na' and 'Duji Vaar Pyar Aur Billi Akkh', has never been married at the age of 32, yet she is the mother of nine children.
Previously, Sunanda was in a relationship with Punjabi music producer Pushpinder Dalival. However, the singer had to face deceit: her money was misappropriated, and she was subsequently kicked out of her home, which caused significant public outcry.
Despite what she went through, Sunanda did not break. In an interview for Newjubook, she shared how spirituality changed her after the breakup. Thanks to the grace of higher powers, she now has her own home, wealth, and fame.
After her heart closed off to new romantic relationships, Sunanda did not let her maternal instinct fade. She took in children who were suffering in life. After becoming the mother of nine children, she expresses a desire to take in even more children.
Speaking about her children, Sunanda became emotional and, hiding her tears, stated: 'I am the mother of nine children. Two of them are my brother's children. The rest are in school; some girls attend college, and one boy is in university, and two children.'
Discussing motherhood, Sunanda noted that every person desires to get married. However, she believes that her connection with higher powers turned out to be deeper and more beautiful. She emphasized: 'I got everything I wanted in life. I needed to experience motherhood, to understand what it means to be a mother. It gave me that, regardless of the method.'
'I made nine children mine, not one or two. Now I try to take in more children. I look for children who have no one. Last year, I took in a child whose mother died, and the father left him to marry someone else.'
Sunanda shares that her life has changed drastically in the last two years, and she never looks back. Now, she enjoys caring for her children and family much more than getting married. Furthermore, she loves traveling the world.
