Arjun steps out for work and returns home each day like anyone else. But beneath his routine lies a quiet compromise. To keep a roof over his head, Arjun has hidden his truth as a trans man because safety, shelter, and survival have come at the cost of his self. He says that staying closeted made it possible for him to find a place for rent, keep the landlord’s questions at bay, and quiet the whispers.
Recounting similar stories like that of Arjun’s, in May, trans persons in Chennai told CE what it takes just to find a roof over their heads. Many confessed to staying closeted, some said they slept under open skies, while some others said to have found shelter in far-off corners of the city — miles away from their workplaces. Even when some houses’ doors open for them, trans persons said, neighbours have harassed them over petty issues, in an attempt to evict them.
Amid this dire rental issue, a Union government funded scheme was undoubtedly a respite for many, but to secure accommodation for sheltering 15-30 trans persons is not an easy task. Magnifying this challenge is the lack of fund allocation in over two years. Set up under the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment’s SMILE programme, the Garima Greh scheme, started in 2021, struggles to stay afloat.
Under the scheme, there are 12 shelters in the country. One such shelter in Chennai, is safely tucked away inside a residential neighbourhood in Periyar Nagar, Kolathur. It is kept alive today because R Jeeva, the project director, a trans woman, is giving it everything she has; including mortgaging her gold jewellery. Jeeva and a small group of staff have kept the doors open, despite a host of challenge rooted in the flaws of the scheme itself and others made worse by the constant shortage of funds.
Trouble in the framework
Arjun was one of the residents of the shelter in 2021. He treads carefully around any mention of his life before 2021 and only discloses that he was forced out of his home since his parents refused to accept him and therefore didn’t complete his schooling. “It is not easy to find a job if you’ve only completed class 10, and on top of that, I am a trans man. I suffered,” he says. It was through someone from the trans community in Bengaluru that Arjun found out about Garima Greh.
Aimed at sheltering trans persons, aged between 18 and 60, the programme entails providing skill development training and helping them transition out of the shelter into independent living; all within six months’ time.
Arjun says that that timeline is insufficient for many to find their footing. Jeeva concurs, “Many students in their first or second year of college, flee their homes due to neglect or sometimes abuse, and come here. How can we send them out in just six months? We, therefore, give them a grace period of one year.”
This concession helped Arjun. “At the shelter, I got time to get stable mentally and otherwise. I was fed three meals a day, I had a roof above my head, there were others who were going through similar struggles, and I took spoken English and driving lessons. A little over a year later, I found a job in a hospital and moved out. I am still working there,” Arjun says.
Sahana, a trans woman, who also lived at the shelter around the same time as Arjun, says that she had also extended her stay for up to one year. “I was staying in a men’s hostel and studying an M.Ed course. During my course in 2021, I underwent gender affirmation surgery. I came to know of this shelter from the Internet. I needed post-surgery care and owing to fear of eviction, I also couldn’t disclose much about my surgery or even dress the way I wanted to at the hostel,” she explains.
Sahana then applied and enrolled herself at the Garima Greh shelter. “I recovered from my surgery at that shelter because the scheme mandated daily doctor visits. I also finished my M.Ed course while staying there. I improved my language through spoken English classes, learnt driving, got my licence, and moved out to my own rental house after I secured a teaching job at a private school,” she adds.
Both Sahana and Arjun were among those who had stayed at the shelter when the scheme had begun and was still being funded. However, the situation since 2023, has become different, say residents and those involved in the project.
N Keerthi, a transwoman who is staying at the shelter since March 2025, is waiting to enrol in a skill development class of her choice. “I have enrolled myself in the driving classes but I want to enrol in the beautician course and become a make-up artist,” she shares.
At the shelter, yoga, driving, tailoring, beautician classes, and spoken English classes are conducted under skill development. Around 86 trans persons — 51 trans women and 36 trans men — have benefitted from these courses so far. However, due to shortage of funds, it has become difficult to pay experts to teach the residents. “Some people at several junctures have helped us by conducting classes for free, but we can’t expect that out of those professionals everytime,” Jeeva says.
A crumbling resort
What was once a bustling two-storey, eight-room house-turned-shelter, is now barely able to financially support those living there. “The scheme mandates us to accommodate 25 people but we have only taken up 15 people since the beginning of this year,” Jeeva rues, and adds that they have turned away people, saying that they will ring them once a spot opens up. As of June 2025, 10 trans women and five trans men are living in the shelter, she shares.
A source working closely in the project, tells CE that the Union government had disbursed the first year’s budget in installments till 2023. The payments for three years since have remained pending. To support the facility, Jeeva says she has spent Rs 20 lakh. “I have mortgaged my gold jewels. If anyone donates funds, I recover one or two pieces of jewellery, and then eventually end up mortgaging it again when we run out of money,” she sighs. Jeeva has also made several representations to the authorities to disburse funds but to no avail. “One time the secretary had changed and there was no clarity as to whom we should write to for the money,” she adds.
Due to budget constraints, Jeeva was recently put up to the task of finding a new accommodation to run the shelter. The previous place was owned by a lawyer, who agreed to rent out their building after Jeeva produced the Government Order for setting up the shelter. But after several months of rent default, they were forced to look out for a new stay. “After a long struggle, we have thankfully found a place that is owned by a well-wisher, through a friend. But we can’t run like this without funds,” Jeeva declares. The new facility — a dormitory layout — spread across 2,400 sq feet, however, will not work, she adds. “It needs to have partition walls for privacy, and we are discussing with the owner about the renovations,” Jeeva explains. For now, residents are sleeping on rows of beds, with a little space sectioned off for dining.
Even paying salaries to staff has become a monthly struggle for Jeeva. The project, run by a lean team of 11 — including a project manager, counsellor, accountant, bridge course coordinator, cook, doctor, sweeper, multi-tasker, and three security personnel who take turns through shifts — is held together by sheer will. “We’re paying salaries, covering rent, and ensuring food is provided every day. It adds up to nearly Rs 3 to 3.5 lakh a month,” Jeeva shares with stress in her voice. The doctor, once a daily presence, now visits only twice a week, because there simply isn’t enough money to pay. The cook, who single-handedly preps, cooks, washes the utensils and follows the same routine three times a day, is also underpaid, Jeeva admits.
Every cutback, every compromise, chips away at what they’re trying to build. Even when its residents’ dreams are put on hold, the team promises a better tomorrow. Keerthi vouches for that and says that she was begging on the streets until last year but now confesses to being “courageous enough to dream of becoming a beautician.” “Jeeva akka has just asked me to wait. They are figuring a way out,” she adds with conviction.
To contribute and support the shelter, contact 8778569926