Story 9: XY Woman

Story for this month. 

Prompt: Delete   Word count: 1250 words

“I’m here… to …see… Ms. Verma,” the deep voice stuttered.

Rakesh looked up from his computer screen.

“May I have your name, please?”

“Puja.”

Rakesh did a doubletake. From the voice, the muscles, the baggy pants and loose-fitting T-shirt, he’d assumed the visitor to be male. The name clearly indicated it was a woman. She pretended not to notice his reaction and stared stoically ahead at nothing in particular. Calm before the storm, thought Rakesh, for no particular reason.

Gathering his wits, Rakesh took Puja into Ms. Leela Verma’s office, did the introductions, and fled, eager to get back to that article he’d been reading online about his favourite cricketer.

A few hours later, it was time to go home, but the visitor hadn’t left. Rakesh sighed, cleared up his desk, and took a few moments to delete his browsing history. No point in letting Ms. Verma realize how he’d been spending part of the afternoon. Not that she’d ever tried to check – she was far too busy working on her client cases to have the time or inclination for it. But you could never trust the others – specially her secretary – who tried to curry favour with the boss by gossiping about the other employees. Rakesh was still too new at the office. All the more reason to be careful.

Puja walked out of the office and Rakesh couldn’t help notice her masculine gait. Her eyes were downcast, but there were telltale signs of tears that had coursed down her cheek. Put together with that manly voice, something felt out of place. Maybe she’s one of those tomboys, Rakesh mused, as he began packing up for the day.

“Get in here, Rakesh,” ordered Leela.

There goes my football match, rued Rakesh. No question of refusing the boss. And definitely not when she was in one of those ‘moods’and started thinking aloud to sort her thoughts. Praying it wouldn’t be yet another marathon 4-hour session like last time, Rakesh entered.

“You have an observant eye, Rakesh, so I want you to tell me something. What did you notice about Puja?” asked Leela.

“Nothing much. I brought her straight to you,” he said evasively.

“I know that look in your eye. Now, out with it, Rakesh.”

“Er…she was – how do I say it – sort of boyish?”

Leela clapped. “I knew it. You’re good.”

Rakesh blushed, wondering why his boss was being so effusive. Was it to soften the verbal lashing that would follow? But no, he was in for a surprise.

“It’s a sad situation, Rakesh. Puja is a sprinter. She’s been winning races from the time she first began running in school. She’s set her heart on winning the National Champion title and now, they tell her she can’t participate!”

“Huh? Why? What seems to be the problem, Ma’am?”

Leela outlined the case. An anonymous letter had reached the State Athletic Team selectors. It had raised questions about the gender of one of their sprinters. Puja. The usually lethargic government machinery had been surprisingly agile, and a doctor had been sent to the training academy where Puja was slogging it out. She had been pulled aside for a series of tests, and then, given the sudden sentence. She couldn’t run. Not now, not ever. No reasons were disclosed.

Running was all Puja had known and cared about. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back home. She’d been running from when she was a child. Running her way to fame and glory. Running to escape the squalor of their 20-by-5 foot hut without electricity and water. Running away from the quarrels between her drunk father and hapless mother.  Running to find a better future for herself and her five siblings. With this decision by the selectors, the 18 year old’s world had come crashing down.

“Why would the selectors believe an anonymous letter, Ma’am? And what was the actual reason for banning her, anyway?”

“You know how it is, Rakesh. Someone stands to benefit from Puja’s ouster, I’m sure. Maybe it’s a relative of some influential member of the selector’s panel. But that line of thinking will take us nowhere. The authorities claim she’s failed a sex-test, specifically, the androgen test.”

“You mean Puja is not a woman?”

“If only it were that simple, Rakesh,” sighed Leela. “Ok, tell me, what’s the basic difference between women and men? What single factor decides gender?”

“Umm…chromosomes? We learned in school that boys have the XY set and girls the XX set.”

“Do you know, there are some women with XY chromosomes too?”

“What!!”

“Yes. And they suffer from a hormonal problem called androgen insensitivity disorder. Their bodies produce testosterone like men do, but the body cannot respond to it, so the body develops like that of a woman, but has some masculine features – you did say Puja was ‘boyish’, remember?”

“Ah, now I remember, Ma’am.  There was some controversy about this over another athlete…”

“Caster Semeneya from South Africa. No, I’m not a sports enthusiast,” grinned Leela, “I’ve been reading up about gender discrimination in sports, that’s all.”

“ How unfair it all is, Ma’am. If they were taking drugs to raise their hormones, fine – that’s cheating. But how can they be punished for something that’s beyond their control?”

“Exactly my point, Rakesh.”

“My mum was a State level swimmer, Ma’am. She always cribbed about how the system was designed. Men have it easy everywhere, she said. Everything is always more difficult for women, she would grumble.”

“Hahaha. I quite agree with your mum’s opinion, Rakesh.”

“You’ve heard of Michael Phelps, Ma’am?”

“Isn’t he that swimmer who won the highest number of gold medals in the Olympics?”

“Right, Ma’am. My mum always said there was something special about the way he was built that made it easier for him. We just laughed her off, and dismissed her opinion, saying she was cribbing, as usual. But later, I wondered at her observation. When Phelps achieved that feat during the 2016 Olympics, there were quite a few media reports about how he had something called Marfan Syndrome. It’s a condition where a person has a thin physique, is very tall, has really long arms, and a protruding chin. There were people claiming this gave him a distinct advantage over the other swimmers. But then, it all died down, and all was well, whereas others like Caster and Puja have to face public humiliation and insult.”

“Wow! I hadn’t heard of that, Rakesh. What a stunning angle to explore for Puja’s case. That’s it – from this moment, you’re my assistant on this case,” declared Leela.

Rakesh’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t expected such an outcome when he stepped into Ms. Leela Verma’s office. No more reading Sports Illustrated online. Now all time would be spent brainstorming with the boss. Marathon discussions, missed football matches would become the norm. But, if one believed the words of his seniors in the firm, his pay package would take a huge jump. And, Rakesh thought guiltily, maybe he’d earn some good karma, helping clients like Puja.

Under the table, hidden from Leela’s gaze, Rakesh eyed his watch. Almost as if she divined his action, Leela yawned and said, “It’s getting late, Rakesh. Let’s call it quits for today. But I want you to get to work on Puja’s case first thing tomorrow.”

“Right, Ma’am.”

“And one more thing – from now on, don’t bother to delete your browsing history. Who knows what other unique information you may find for me online?”

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To know more about the true story from which this is creatively inspired, do read this article. 

I wrote this story for the sake of writing it. Literally. Only because I didn't want to break the cycle of writing and posting on my short story group. Because I wanted to push myself to come up with something, anything, even when the creative juices weren't flowing - just to stick to the discipline. A lot of the writers on that group appreciated my efforts, and found positives in the story, and said they learned something new from it. That gave me the motivation to post it on my blog here. 

If, like one of the more discerning of my writer friends, you find this story missing something (she labelled it the "Anu Sparkle"), I agree. Hopefully, it will be back by the time the next story is due :-)