The Thai Ladyboy (Short Story)

 The Thai Ladyboy

By 

Tipu Salman Makhdoom

(Translated from Punjabi) 

He was a ladyboy from Thailand, but he was truly beautiful. Whenever he comes to mind, two things flash before my eyes: his luscious lips and his weeping eyes.

The last time our gazes met, his eyes welled up with tears. He probably still believes that only he cried that day. But I cried too.

I was aimlessly wandering through the markets of Koh Samui. I'd eaten my fill and indulged in some Thai liquor. A pleasant buzz was setting in, and there was nothing particular to do. I felt lost, not knowing what to do, just walking like a mindless creature. Suddenly, my eyes landed on him. In a mini-skirt and tight blouse, he looked like a stunning girl. Noticing me staring, he became alert and began to display the alluring gestures of a seasoned escort. His plump backside and blossoming chest drew me in. Powerless, I walked towards him.

If you've never been to Thailand, you can't truly grasp the beauty of Thai ladyboys. Even seasoned admirers of beauty often mistake a handsome Thai ladyboy for a beautiful Thai girl. And I, well, I was just a beginner in this field, and high on a substance to boot.

Smooth, round, and bare thighs; uncovered arms; a swaying chest; a waist like a gazelle; a neck like a peacock; strawberry-like lips; large eyes; and a small, delicate nose. I reached him, and he took my hand. His hand was incredibly delicate and soft. When he asked how I was in broken English, I first suspected he wasn't a girl but a ladyboy. His voice, though feminine, sounded somewhat artificial. As I hesitated and looked at him closely, he embraced me. His chest pressed against mine, and my heart began to pound. He whispered into my ear that he was a "kathoey." I knew that "kathoey" was the Thai word for a ladyboy. At any other time, I would have pushed him away in disgust. But at that moment, the intoxication was rising, and the pressure of his prominent chest warmed mine. Melting, I became one with his body.

When I didn't react after hearing "kathoey," he assumed I was a client. He ran his hand over my side, then took my earlobe between his lips, circling it with his teeth and tongue. I was already in a daze, and now I was completely lost in him. Seeing me falling for him, he led me to sit on the platform of a closed shop. He rested my swaying head against his chest and began to caress my stomach. A groan escaped my lips, and I instinctively buried my face in the hollow of his chest. At the same time, my hand moved to the inside of his thigh. As my hand touched his soft thigh, it was as if I received an electric shock. The moment my hand landed on his thigh, a disturbing image of a dark, hairy, filthy, and half-dead penis flashed in my mind. And my whole body turned to ice.

On the other hand, the ladyboy was showering me with affection. He kissed my eyes, then my lips. But a bitter taste filled my mouth. I suddenly stood up. As I stood, I felt dizzy. The Thai liquor was potent. My intention was to leave him immediately after standing up, assuming he'd understand I wasn't a client. But now, with the dizziness, I was about to fall rather than walk. He embraced me again, steadying me. This time, he didn't just steady me; he almost held me in his lap. He would take out his fragrant silk handkerchief from his blouse to wipe the sweat from my forehead, then pull a bottle of water from his purse to splash on my face. He even held my chin like a child and brought the bottle to my mouth, offering me a sip of water. Five minutes later, when I recovered, he kissed my forehead with such tenderness that it reminded me of my mother. And then, the thought of how I could possibly refuse him now made my heart sink.

Seeing my distress, he fell silent and sat back down on the platform. His downcast face brought to mind his radiant expression from just moments before. As I was still wondering what to do, he gestured for me to sit beside him. I did. He took my hand and, with a tearful smile, told me that he had been rejected three times that day and needed to buy a toy for his three-year-old son, whose birthday was the next day. Then he kissed my cheek and, hugging me, said, "Goodbye, handsome boy." He understood that I wasn't a client, but merely intoxicated.

Instead of leaving, I remained seated there. I had nothing to do, and I felt immense pity for him. Perhaps his beauty and the alcohol also played a part. I told him that I was very tired. If he would massage me, I would give him a thousand bhat. His eyes sparkled, and a childlike, sudden smile spread across his face. With a playful air, he put his arms around my neck and said he was willing to massage me in every way and everywhere. When I nervously said I wasn't "that," he burst into laughter. Then, looking at me with great affection, he said it would be exactly as I wished. I smiled and kissed his cheek. He looked at me, surprised. He was very happy. He stood up and hailed a tuk-tuk, a Thai auto-rickshaw. We got in, and I gave him my hotel address. We were both very happy. He, because he would earn some money, and I, because I had at least shown kindness to that poor soul. We kept looking at each other and smiling. Then we held hands. And then he rested his head on my shoulder. I found it very innocent and sweet. Then, suddenly, my gaze fell on the rickshaw driver. He was grinning at us, and the malice on his face revealed exactly what he was thinking about us. All my happiness vanished in an instant. The rickshaw driver kept grinning, looking at him with dirty eyes, and each time, my veins tightened. By the time we reached the hotel, it felt like the whole city was staring at us. But he, with his head on my shoulder, was oblivious to the world.

Now, every part of me felt stretched taut. I asked the rickshaw to stop about a mile before the hotel. We got out, paid the driver, and he looked around, asking about the hotel. When he realized we had gotten off far from the hotel, he became quiet. After the rickshaw left, we were left alone on the road. Being free from the rickshaw driver's dirty smile and vile stares felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I smiled and looked at him. He was happy once more.

We walked hand in hand towards the hotel, playful. We were both very happy. He kept playing tricks on me, sometimes hitting my back, sometimes my front, and then laughing mischievously. He felt like a very sweet child to me. Laughing and playing like this, we reached the hotel. Right in front of the hotel, on the sidewalk, some Sikhs were sitting and drinking beer. I recognized them. They were staying at my hotel. I had seen them coming and going in the lobby. Some were drunk, and others were just young, playful lads. Since I spoke their language, they considered me their countryman. When they saw me arriving with a young and very sexy, beautiful ladyboy, they found it amusing. They started whistling and shouting that it was a travesty that I hadn't found a girl even in Thailand. One shouted that I didn't even know what to do with a ladyboy! Another chanted, "Let's ask the ladyboy's friend!" Their jeering not only shattered my innocent happiness but also drained the color from the poor kathoey’s face. He didn't understand Punjabi, but seeing the Sikhs' taunts and my condition, he understood perfectly well what was happening.

I stood like a statue made of lentil flour: straight neck, straight face, and straight gaze. We passed the Sikhs, and then we passed my hotel. About half a kilometer further, I sat down on the sidewalk and lit a cigarette from my pocket. He stood there for about two minutes, then took two steps forward and hailed an auto-rickshaw. The rickshaw stopped, and he turned back to look at me. I got up, walked towards him, kissed his forehead, and handed him a thousand bhat. He quietly got into the rickshaw, and the rickshaw drove off. As it moved away, he raised his hand to wave goodbye to me, and then, covering his face with both hands, he began to cry. I returned to the sidewalk, sat down, and buried my head in my knees, weeping.