Latest news with #KRAs
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Business Standard
06-05-2025
- Business
- Business Standard
Sebi comes out with 'investor charter' for KYC registration agencies
This charter is aimed at facilitating investor awareness about various activities where an investor/client has to deal with KYC (Know Your Client) Registration Agencies Press Trust of India New Delhi Markets regulator Sebi on Tuesday said it has developed an 'investor charter' for KRAs detailing the services provided to investors along with their rights and grievance redressal mechanism. Additionally, the investor charter would provide details about activities of KRAs as well as dos and don'ts for investors. This charter is aimed at facilitating investor awareness about various activities where an investor/client has to deal with KYC (Know Your Client) Registration Agencies (KRAs) for availing investor service requests. In its circular, Sebi asked registered KRAs to bring the investor charter to the notice of existing and new investors by putting it on their websites and displaying it at prominent places in offices. With regard to services provided by KRAs to investors, Sebi said a KRA facilitates registration and modification of KYC records of investors in the securities market through registered-intermediaries, ensuring verification and validation of the investor's identity. KRA provides ease of access to investors or registered intermediaries to track status of KYC registration and modification, online. (Only the headline and picture of this report may have been reworked by the Business Standard staff; the rest of the content is auto-generated from a syndicated feed.)
Indian Express
04-05-2025
- Health
- Indian Express
Anaya Bangar on gender transition: ‘I know what it is like from the male perspective. This is an advantage'
The face — her face — looking out from that shiny, full-length gym mirror had often refused to smile back at her. In January of 2021, this used to bother Anaya Bangar silly. As an aspiring cricketer — a male cricketer back then, since she was born a boy, Aryan, she was following the sporting pathway to the T. Building muscles with perfect cuts in the gym. Training with Mumbai's best coaches gurus. A graceful left-hander, her strokes were flawless and spin-bowling easy on the eyes. But something fundamental wasn't clicking into place. It would take her until January 2022, for all the confusion and restlessness to make sense: She had to transition into a woman, cricketing KRAs could wait. 'I'd once clung desperately onto external validation from people close to me and I tried to be this person everyone would like. But internally it never felt right,' recalls Anaya, 25, now back in Mumbai, by the sea, where cricket was the setting of both the triggers and trauma leading up to the transitioning, and also a harbinger of both the tempests and tranquility in her life. Having started out on a corporate job on her return, Anaya is now seeking a career in the entertainment industry. But cricket is never far from her life. Chasing the great Indian cricket dream, like her father, India international cricketer Sanjay Bangar, and perfectly in love with the sport on Mumbai's maidaans, Anaya, had built herself a ripped 'masculine body', as she puts it, and was playing well enough in her U16s in search of that validation. But, the mirror, she says, 'didn't recognise that person'. So she would break the basic tenet of khadoos (stubborn) Mumbai cricket, while defying society's expectations of plodding along unhappily, on the same path. Anaya sought out counsellors who gently guided her about transitioning from a deeply unsettled man to a woman at peace with herself. She flew out of the country with an aim to consider hormone replacement therapy (HRT) in April 2023, funding it by playing club cricket in the UK, and started out on the medical intervention in December 2024. Two Aprils on, Anaya is back in India and is finally friends with the mirror. Sunglasses perched on her head like a summer crown, nail art she worries might chip, and arm tattoos that she has mostly made up her mind about erasing, the young woman is ready to plunge into a life in the field of entertainment. Anaya, born Aryan (second from right), before the transition with cricket's Khan brothers Musheer, Moin and Sarfaraz Heading off to the UK was more than just transitioning peacefully. 'Also it would not affect anyone else during this process,' she says. The UK offered her space to exhale. 'When I stepped out in India, I couldn't freely dress, be myself. In London, I had laws to protect me. I had society and people there who were progressive enough, which made me feel safe to express myself,' adds Anaya. She had yanked herself out of her comfort zone — a privileged upbringing at a cushy Wadala home and support of parents for a career path with access to the best. But, she hadn't been able to shake off the nagging feeling since the age of 9 or 10. 'When going through male puberty, I realised this is not aligning. It's not the person I want to be,' she recalls. These two years — she landed back in India on April 1—showed her what real life with its struggles could be. Cricket is a happy memory. She started training under former India player Praveen Amre, and nurtured lasting friendships with the brothers Sarfaraz and Musheer, who went on to represent the nation. On her recent return, she visited them at their home and posted a picture of them together during their junior days. She also shared a video of the longtime friends cajoling Sarfaraz's toddler to do a bhangra step. It was a happy frame. Back in the day, they all had spent long days at Mumbai's cricketing nursery — Azad and Cross maidan — batting long hours and bonding over cricket chatter. 'We'd spend time together on the field and that bond really never went away. And that's still regardless of the transition. Those were happy days. Me, my dad, Naushad uncle, Sarfaraz and Musheer, we would call 20 bowlers and we had new rules—if you play a shot to a certain place, you are Out. Then we'd run around the ground,' she recalls. Anaya suffered from ADHD (Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) and the learning disabilities meant academics were never a solace. At Don Bosco Matunga, an all-boys school steeped in sport, it was more of the same claustrophobia cramped by the masculinity that pervades locker rooms. Her storms raged within and she knew this wasn't about teacups. 'It basically got to a point where I just couldn't cope with the normal world or how I was living and how I was trying to be a guy for so many years,' she recalls. A moment at one of those ultra competitive age-group Mumbai matches at BKC changed her life. It was a broken bone that made her give up on the body that she never felt comfortable in. 'In my last match, Arjun Tendulkar was batting, he hit the ball to the boundary. I tried to stop it but I ended up breaking my hand. It's when I said I can't do this. I can't live a fake life anymore. So I went ahead and made this decision to transition.' The injury had instigated a profound realisation. 'I mean, you are trying to be a man, or just the best guy you can be. But that was just the stereotype. My relationship with my body was like hating the body parts that I have,' she says. 'I tried to suppress that and just be the extreme of whatever the male ideal was,' Anaya recalls. But the dissonance persisted. Anaya is the daughter of former Indian cricketer Sanjay Bangar, (Express Photo By Ganesh Shirsekar) A few acquaintances from the past would offer her a club cricket contract in the UK. Now she had a reason to get away from India. Life was far from sipping tea, biting into scones in idyllic English summers and playing cricket. A fight for survival was underway. Anaya was trying to eke out living expenses from playing club cricket with men in Manchester and Leicester, and always on a shoestring budget, even while undergoing HRT. She lived in dressing rooms at times, travelled three hours by bus to friends' homes in other cities and slept on their floors, a far cry from the sheltered life of Wadala's charming Art Deco homes. All this on 100 pounds a week. 'The toughest day would be travelling from Manchester to Loughborough. The ticket itself was 35 pounds. I worked as a waitress as well after the season. It was very odd because I had this past life where I had everything. And now I'm coming here and waitressing because I'm transitioning and need the money. So it really hit me hard. This is how the real world can be. I felt very lonely, isolated. Like no one really is there for me,' she adds. The entire process can take up to three to four years for the second puberty to hit and the reactions varied, and weren't always comforting. 'Even the ones who knew and were seeing changes happening, some of them changed and became very distant. Some were supportive, but still shocked. Like even they were processing.' Some equations cleansed, some found clarity that was a dagger to her heart. 'I realised I was always being looked at from this lens of my dad's name (Sanjay Bangar was a coach with Team India by then),' she recalls, hurt. It was her transitioning but Anaya could see facades falling and chameleons dabbing on colours, she says. 'A few people were suddenly hostile. Basically swearing at me in front of other players and then asking me for pictures later on! Some used to just laugh at me. That I'll never forget because I didn't feel understood by anyone,' she says. A particularly aggravating incident played out in Leicester, with an Indian-origin teammate. 'He just dismissed the whole thing first and then basically told me 'you are mentally sick, you need help',' she recalls with a wince. This other time, she painted her nails before a match and the chatter didn't stop. The painted nails and cackling male murmurs put her on guard. 'I started slow. I didn't want to go out looking like a man in a dress. I started with androgynous clothing, like jeans or tops. I started on make-up gradually because again, I didn't want it to be too glaring either. I think the point where I feel happy to dress up and go out, has come now. Where I can actually dress up and not be clocked as a trans-person or anything,' she says. Then things grew complicated. 'It could get scary, because, when I stepped out, a few guys did end up liking me. And I'd tell them that I'm trans or they would realise that themselves. So they would get a bit defensive. It's like their ego had been hurt, they would start acting weird.' ***** When she returned to India this April, the immigration official did a double take, matching her face with that on the passport repeatedly. At another time at the Delhi airport, a senior officer was summoned but allowed her to proceed with no fuss. But nothing could prepare her for Delhi and its devastating debonairs, she laughs, though she was scared, back in that moment. 'The men were so like… It's their eyes! I had men walk up to me and say, 'Oh, you're hot'. At the airport taxi. And that's very scary. You can just tell from their eyes, like, what they are thinking. It's a sudden realisation. Like a man's world and a woman's world is different. Even the way the system is designed, it's very, like, male-dominated. It helps the male functioning,' she says. The overheard chatter that annoyed her a little when in male dressing rooms, started ringing alarm bells as she transitioned. 'I understand how the male mind works and how they think and talk about women. I saw the worst part of it in cricket. And then I went out of the country and was on the receiving end of the treatment. The objectification that men do, and those eyes that they have. When I changed, I was like, why are these people looking at me and I know what it is like from the male perspective. This is an advantage,' she says. She chuckles talking about neighbours who thought it their duty to dissuade her. 'Now I think they respect me a lot more because I am receiving fame from the exposure. But behind my back, I've heard a few things. Some people were like, why am I doing this to my family? Everything was set. So why upset things? Some people thought, let's talk her out of this.' But Anaya had read extensively on gender dysphoria, spoken to psychiatrists and taken to spirituality to help her maintain her equilibrium through all the clattering noise of opinions. Wearing a sari and shopping for Indian ethnic wear is the next step, and eye make-up and designer handbags are things she's warming up to. 'Even my mother said my eyes look different,' she says. Hormone replacement rings in some very pleasant changes. 'The pores of my skin closed. My skin is softening. Body changes from the male V torso to shaping, in a more feminine way. Curves. You lose a lot of muscle mass. At some point, I felt very comfortable about how the body was. Earlier, when people used to clock me as a man, it also affected my confidence,' she says. There are new brain-waves to navigate. 'You feel things very easily and you need to express yourself in order to just be normal. In terms of being a man, it was easier to suppress emotions,' she says. Physiologically, hormones alter basics. 'I could feel my energy levels being stable all the time as a man and I was definitely much stronger. Now, my heart feels weaker, my bones are weaker, and muscle strength has gone down. And that's difficult for an athlete. The downside of it is even if I wanted to, I just can't face 140 kph of bowling. It will break my body. People don't understand hormones. Most think trans people are just men wearing dresses. But there are other things. So the hand-eye coordination weakens, your reflexes are slow. You are just not sharp enough. Guys just don't get the whole bones weakening part. It's a scary reality,' she says, adding that her taste buds and music preferences have changed too. Anaya would twice dislocate her shoulder, facing the men bowl. 'The eyes get weaker. They are muscles after all,' she explains. For the moment, Anaya is happy with her neatly curated second chance, where she's happy with her headspace. It starts with her new name. 'At first I picked Ananya. Both names mean 'unique'. One friend said I give off Anaya vibes. And slowly, I warmed up to it. My journey, my story, is kind of unique too,' she says. Mirrors and glass doorways also smile back at her more often now.
