Kadambari Mayuri Bansod, a trans woman from Pune, represents the strength, resilience, and quiet courage of India’s transgender community. Her story is not only about gender identity; it is about surviving exclusion, and the continued pursuit of the most basic human right: safe and dignified sanitation for all.

Kadambari was born into a middle-class joint family. Her father worked in the military administration department of an ammunition factory; her mother was a schoolteacher. Though the family valued discipline and respectability, Kadambari never felt seen for who she was.

By age 11 or 12, she felt a deep desire to wear feminine clothes, express softness, and participate in activities associated with girls. Instead, she was instructed to “behave like a man.” There was no outright violence—but the emotional neglect was undeniable. She felt unseen, unheard, and slowly withdrew into her room, avoiding family and social gatherings.

In school, her feminine mannerisms invited bullying. Even though it was not her preference, she was forced to use the boys’ toilet. The disconnect between her inner identity and external expectations created constant distress and shame.

At 25, Kadambari left home after completing her graduation. Suddenly responsible for food, shelter, and survival, she faced the realities of the world without any support system.

To earn a living, she first turned to begging and then reluctantly to sex work; a common survival strategy for many transgender women who are shut out of formal job markets. Despite everything, she pursued her education, completing an M.Com degree and briefly working in a BPO. Even though her colleagues knew about her gender identity, and there were instituted workplace policies intended to protect employees, harassment and abusive language continued. She was forced to use the men’s washroom.

As a child, Kadambari loved Kathak, but stigma at home made it impossible to pursue. After leaving her family, she embraced dance again, performing at weddings, festivals, and cultural events. It became her art, her livelihood, and a vital expression of her identity.

She also joined the Guru-Chela Parampara, strengthening her connection with the hijra community while continuing to live independently.

For Kadambari, public sanitation has rarely been safe. She is often abused in women’s washrooms. Elderly women in particular have insulted her, forcing her to leave without using the toilet.

Using the men’s restroom is far more dangerous. She recounts a chilling story of a fellow trans woman who dressed in men’s clothes to avoid attention. Because she had plucked eyebrows and dimples, a group of men attacked her brutally in a public toilet. No one intervened.

In roadside dhabas and small hotels, Kadambari has faced stalking, harassment, and even sexual demands from male staff who followed her into restrooms. The fear of violence became so normalised that she often avoided drinking water when outside her home.

Holding her bladder for hours led to serious kidney damage. Even after doctors warned her, the lack of safe sanitation left her with no other option. Only in the privacy of her room could she feel safe enough to relieve herself.

Kadambari’s experiences show that sanitation is not a simple infrastructure issue—it is deeply tied to safety, gender identity, public attitudes, mental and physical health, and basic human dignity. For trans persons, entering a public toilet is about taking a calculated risk on their well-being and a reminder that they are excluded. She says, “The internal fear we carry the moment we step out is more dangerous than the violence in the restroom itself.”

Kadambari’s story underscores the urgent need for trans-inclusive sanitation in India. This includes: 

• Gender-neutral or trans-inclusive toilets in schools, colleges, malls, offices, railway stations, government buildings, and public spaces,
• Dedicated budgets for trans-inclusive WASH within schemes like Swachh Bharat Mission 3,
• Training for Urban Local Bodies and toilet caretakers on gender sensitivity,
• Public awareness campaigns to reduce acts of violence and transphobia in sanitation spaces.

Without this shift, trans persons will continue to face daily threats to safety, health, and dignity.

Today, Kadambari works as an accounts executive, lives with her partner, and remains closely connected to her community. She serves as Secretary of Mangal Mukhi, a trans-led organisation, and has also acted in an OTT film titled Rosy.

She has authored a book about her life—“Proud to be a transwoman.”

Kadambari’s journey is a reminder that dignity begins with something as simple as being allowed to exist—freely, safely, and without fear.

— Seema Jain, Programme Manager, CREA