Transgender aspirants struggle for fair recruitment in Maharashtra police

Discrimination continues in physical & written examinations

For decades, India’s transgender community has fought for dignity, only to be met with systemic exclusion. Despite the Supreme Court’s 2014 recognition of transgender rights, real inclusion remains elusive. A recruitment drive by the Maharashtra Police offered hope to some transgenders, but it soon turned into a battle against discrimination. From unfair physical tests to legal hurdles, transgender aspirants were forced to fight not just for a job, but for their right to be treated as equals in their own country.

Nikita Mukhyadal, 35, from Pimpri-Chinchwad in Pune, once harboured a dream that went beyond societal stereotypes. She wanted to become Maharashtra’s first transgender constable, proving that transgender people are capable of far more than what society limits them to. But today, she begs on the streets of Maharashtra, forced into a life she fought so hard to escape.

“I wanted to become a police constable and change society’s perception of us. People say transgenders are only meant for begging and escort services. I wanted to prove them wrong. But the government doesn’t want that. They talk about inclusion, but when we fight for our rights, they shut the door on us,” Mukhyadal tells Media India Group.

Mukhyadal was born as Nitin Mukhyadal and assigned male at birth. But she says, deep down, she always knew her true identity. After undergoing gender-affirming surgery, she embraced her new self, determined to live with dignity. She took up work as a security guard at the Pimpri-Chinchwad Municipal Corporation, but her real ambition lay in donning the police uniform. When in 2021, Maharashtra Police announced its recruitment drive, she saw a chance to turn her dream into reality. However, when she went to fill out the form, she was met with a crushing disappointment the application had no provision for transgender applicants.

“In 2022, when Maharashtra Police announced recruitment for constables, I was excited. I thought this was my chance. But when I went to fill out the form, I found only two options male and female. I was confused. Where was the third gender?,” she adds.

Mukhyadal immediately approached a lawyer, who confirmed that the Maharashtra Public Service Commission’s website had no provision for transgender applicants. Worse, she was also barred from applying under the female category.

“The department went to court against us, claiming we were ‘not capable’ of doing the job of the police. But how can you deem us incapable without even examining us, without testing our physical and written abilities,” she adds.

The Bombay High Court ruled in the favour of transgenders, ordering the government to allow transgender individuals to apply. However, the victory was bittersweet.

“In December 2022, we were finally allowed to fill out the recruitment form after a long legal battle. But instead of giving us a fair chance, they gave us just five days to complete the process. Five days! Can you imagine? Other candidates had ample time to prepare and submit their applications, but for us, it felt like they were trying to minimise our participation right from the beginning,” she adds,

Despite these challenges, 73 transgender individuals still managed to submit their applications.

“But I can say with certainty that if we had been given the same one-month window as others, at least 1,000 transgender people would have come forward to apply. Many of us had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, but by the time word spread, the deadline had already passed,” Mukhyadal adds.

“The discrimination didn’t stop there. After submitting our applications, we were given only three months to prepare for the physical test, while other candidates had months, sometimes even years, to train. It was clear that the government had already decided we were not capable, that we would fail. Their attitude toward us was negative from the start. Instead of seeing this as a step toward inclusion, they saw us as a burden, an inconvenience. They never truly wanted us to be part of the force,” she says, her voice filled with frustration.

“My running was evaluated manually, while male and female candidates had an electronic chip attached to their shoes to record precise timings. Every second and millisecond counts in a race, so how could they guarantee my timing was recorded fairly without a chip,” she adds.

The discrimination was not limited to the physical exam. Many transgender candidates faced unnecessary delays in receiving their hall tickets for the recruitment process. While other candidates received their hall tickets well in advance, Mukhyadal and others were left anxiously waiting until the last moment.

“We had to call senior MPSC officials repeatedly, pleading for our hall tickets. In the end, we received them just the night before the exam. How is that fair,” says Mukhyadal.

The last-minute stress took a toll on their mental and physical preparation.

“Other candidates could relax and focus before their test. But we spent the night before in a state of anxiety, wondering if we would even be allowed to enter the examination hall the next morning,” she adds.

Mukhydal passed the physical test. However, she was dismayed to see that her name, along with other transgender applicants, was listed in the female column, despite having spent time and effort to have a third gender included.

“When it was time for the written test, we were grouped with male and female candidates, both of whom had significantly more time to prepare than us. We barely had any time to study, while they had been preparing for months, even years. How were we supposed to compete on an equal footing? And as expected, many of us were disqualified, not because we weren’t capable, but because we were never given a fair chance. The system was designed to set us up for failure,” she adds.

Another aspirant who has faced relentless challenges in her pursuit of a police job is Arya Pujari, a 25-year-old trans woman from Sangli in western Maharashtra. Pujari left home in her teens to explore her identity and, for the past seven years, has been working as a lavani dancer in Satara, one of the few occupations many trans women are forced into due to a lack of stable employment.

While searching for better opportunities, Pujari came across a YouTube video on Prithika Yashini, Tamil Nadu’s first transgender sub-inspector. That moment changed everything for her.

“I saw her in uniform, standing tall with pride, and I thought why can’t I do that too? If she could break barriers, so could I,” Pujari tells Media India Group.

Determined to follow in Yashini’s footsteps, Arya decided to apply for the Maharashtra police force. But over the last three years, she has hit roadblocks at every stage. She wrote the recruitment exam twice, once qualifying under special directions issued by the Maharashtra Administrative Tribunal (MAT), but was still denied a job. On her next attempt, she came agonisingly close to qualifying but fell short.

“They make it look like we are welcome, but the system is designed to push us out. The recruitment process does not recognise how marginalised we are. It does not take into account the struggles we face daily, the lack of resources, or even our physical differences and vulnerabilities. We have to fight for everything, even the basic right to be considered fairly,” she adds.

Despite the repeated setbacks, Pujari refuses to give up. She has returned to performing with her lavani troupe while preparing for the next round of recruitment exams.

“I was a man earlier, then I became a woman, but I still have better muscle strength than most women. So, if the state compels me to compete with women, it would be unjust to them. But if I am forced to compete with men, it would be unfair to me,” says Pujari.

Other trans women echo her concerns, pointing out that the government fails to consider the multiple layers of marginalisation they face not just their gender identity, but also caste-based discrimination, social ostracisation, and economic hardship.

“For years, we have pleaded with the administration for a more gender-sensitive recruitment process. We have asked for separate physical criteria, for proper reservations, for equal opportunities. But all we get are empty promises,” she adds

In 2024, Pujari once again attempted to join the Maharashtra Police, determined to prove her worth. She trained rigorously and participated in the physically demanding tests during the monsoon season of June and July, followed by the written exam. This time, she applied as “transgender” and selected “OBC general” as her reservation category. She performed better than before, scoring an impressive 126 out of 150. But despite her efforts, she fell just four points short of the OBC general cutoff.

Pujari  says that she could have easily applied under the OBC women’s category, where the cutoff was much lower at 113-114. But she refused to take that route.

“If I had done that, it would have reduced opportunities for other marginalised women. How can I fight for justice while taking away someone else’s right,” Pujari adds.

Pujari case had already reached the MAT in 2023. She had fulfilled all the criteria laid out for the reserved seat in Satara, and MAT had ordered the Home Department to issue her an appointment letter within six weeks or appeal against it within the same timeframe. But instead of honouring the directive, the government delayed action and only filed an appeal in the Bombay High Court in August 2024. Now, the case remains stuck in legal limbo, with hearings repeatedly postponed. The next scheduled date was February 24.

A Battle against apathy

The fight for transgender inclusion in government jobs is not new. Since 2019, the Trutiyapanthi Hakka Adhikar Sangharsh Samiti, a Maharashtra-based collective advocating for trans rights, has been demanding a 1 pc reservation in education and employment. Despite numerous protests, meetings with state officials, and legal battles, the Maharashtra government has refused to act.

“The only thing they have agreed to is modifying the physical examination criteria. Beyond that, they hide behind bureaucracy. The  MPSC says there is no policy for transgender reservations. But isn’t it the government’s responsibility to create one,” Pujari adds.

For Pujari, Mukhyadal, and dozens of others, the fight continues. “We have agitated on the streets. We have knocked on the doors of the judiciary. We have begged the government to listen. But the state remains unmoved,” says Pujari.