Neither

I saw you at the signal Where my car had stopped In the dress of a woman; You walked swinging your hips With a vulgar smile on your lips From one car to the other And stretched your hands. Clapping in your peculiar style You asked for money As if it were your right Your hoarse voice and manners Telling me much of the unsaid. I rolled back my shutters And shook my head. You didn't persist. Those in the car next to mine Could be your mother, Father, brother, sister; Would they recognize you? What if? You could be Bhagmati. I could call you By any other name. But the stamp on you Is the same: An Outcast! Contempt oozes out from you In every move For the khuda who created you For this world That condemned you To the streets. Who were the man and the woman Who gave you birth And threw you in the streets? And you? Neither! Not man or woman! Not even a human being. Your eyes, I sense, Betrayed your sorrow, Distrust, diffidence And extreme contempt For yourself. I took you for arrogant And haughty- But now I realized You were neither! ***