Months later, I remembered a friend who got a teddy bear and said that he will gift it to the person he loves. People around him curiously asked him whether his lover was a ‘‘he’ or a ‘she’?’ This question seemed to have put the person on a spot, made him a bit uncomfortable. The person tried his best to refer to their partner using gender-neutral pronouns. This was the beginning of my understanding of the role pronouns played in providing an inclusive space for everyone to express their true self and whom they love.

In 2021, at my workplace in Bhopal, I met a person called Gadha who had come from Kerala. We quickly got along as friends. We would hang out and talk about our professional and personal aspirations, families, food habits, literature, cinema, amongst other interests. When you move to a new city, finding such friends could provide an anchor to help you sail through the ups and downs of a new environment. In the company of someone you trust, you can share your innermost experiences, morals, joys, aspirations, failures, and fears..

In one of our meetups, I found Gadha anxious and upset. As a friend, I tried to talk and help. Gadha shared that the primary cause of her worry was the fact that they were frequently misgendered by those around them! Gadha is a non-binary person and prefers the pronoun they/them though everyone would refer to them as ‘she/her.’

Though aware of various gender identities, I still took it casually until this incident. This incident deepened my realization of the emotional harm that misgendering can do. This realization was different from what one would have by reading about this subject. This was different because it prompted me not just to agree with what is being said, but to see a friend’s distress first hand and to change my own ways of addressing individuals like Gadha.

For others who are non-trans/cisgender, this brings great privilege. Being called ‘Sir’ or ‘Ma’am’ correctly all the time is something one may take for granted, and fail to appreciate the feelings of someone who does not have this privilege. Imagine yourself in the place of someone who lives in a world where they are constantly misgendered. How difficult it must be to put up with it? Being mindful of someone’s gender is the very least we can do. It does not take much effort, but surely requires a will, and an intent, of avoiding hurt to fellow humans. Gadha themself says that avoiding to misgender is not really different from avoiding to crush someone’s feet.

Relationships we share with our friends, colleagues and peers is a powerful tool to learn the human experience. Because of my friend, I now keep envisioning and working towards a world where people like them (my friend) are never misgendered. Gender sensitivity should also be extended to someone’s partner, in that we do not assume the partner’s gender, or insist on knowing it. Using gender-neutral language and asserting one’s pronouns out there, is a small step in this direction that will eventually contribute towards a culture of gender sensitivity and inclusion.

Gadha now is doing well. Besides the necessity of using correct pronouns, I have learnt many other things in their company – from making a good Kerala style curry to learning about various scholars and their work in the field of gender studies and psychology.

Let us keep knowing, befriending and learning from people like Gadha.

Notes:

• Gadha’s name and photograph is used with their consent.
• I acknowledge and thank Dr. Ameya Bondre for his inputs and support while writing this piece.
• Gadha’s photo: courtesy author
• Featured image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The full Statement is at: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1739CSyu5q_xSeFvkUvfFXUQopYtLd3jZ/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=114555905071788929193&rtpof=true&sd=true

You can endorse the statement by clicking on this link https://forms.gle/4YK1ZH2Pn7q7aW1t5 

Any suggestion for addition or modification to the Public Statement can be mailed at huz208546@iitd.ac.in or Qiz208582@iitd.ac.in

Dear Peers,

I hope all of you are doing well.

I write to all of you on a sombre note because of the series of events that have transpired this month regarding the teacher’s training manual formulated and published by NCERT to make educational avenues more enabling, inclusive and accessible for transgender and gender non-conforming persons. The redaction of the manual and the institutional attitude of human rights oversight bodies signals worrying trends in India.

The purpose of this message is to seek your support and endorsement of the public statement that would be sent to important stakeholders for their immediate retrospection and actions, failing which we* plan to seek legal remedy.

Your support, endorsement and suggestions will be highly valuable. In rage, we unite!

Link to the Statement – https://docs.google.com/document/d/1739CSyu5q_xSeFvkUvfFXUQopYtLd3jZ/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=114555905071788929193&rtpof=true&sd=true

The authors  are a group of gender non-binary, gender non-conforming students from various educational institutions, who have experienced the horrors of the gender non-inclusive education system.

Orinam congratulates Neelam on this initiative and looks forward to further episodes. View the videos below:

View the discussion (English, Tanglish)  below.

Resource centre for Youth Mental Health by SCARF is an inclusive space for youth from different walks of life. Orinam is an all unregistered collective of LGBTIQA+ people and allies based in Chennai,Tamil Nadu. It functions as a support, cultural, and activist space.

Suhavana- Clinical Psychologist, SCARF
Dwarak – Mental Health Counsellor
Mujeebur Rahman – from Orinam
Namithaa – Gender and Sexuality Educator

Resource Center for Youth Mental health by SCARF – on Instagram @ryms_scarf
rYMs Email : ryms@scarfindia.org
SCARF : 044 2615 1073
SCARF COVID HELPLINE : +91 7305928515
Email: info@scarfindia.org
Website http://www.scarfindia.org/

Tamil cinema has always gloried machismo through its larger than life heroes and shunned anything that is remotely feminine. Until now gender minority characters are used either as an element of ridicule or as monsters.  Likes of I and Aruvi have followed the tried and tested method of using blatant transphobic jokes to bring out laughter in theaters.

Pariyerum Perumal, in this context, is different from most of its predecessors. Puliyagulam Selvaraj, father of Pariyan, the protagonist, is a folk dancer who performs in drag. The movie presents a gender non-conforming character with significant importance in a positive shade, a huge step forward from clichéd psychopaths, sidekicks and street clowns.

Finally, a movie which is trying to create a dialogue against deep-rooted casteism in the society is also talking about gender minorities. This is a progressive move to create a unified voice against all forms of oppression. Though the intention behind the character is clearly a welcoming one, the portrayal and presentation of it are debatable and need to be looked upon critically.

The primary reason that this calls for a debate is the gender identity of Selvaraj, Pariyan’s father. The director has used elements such as pity, sympathy, pain, innocence and affection to humanize Selvaraj, but has made no attempt to examine the gender identity of the character. The audience members are left to interpret the gender identity of Selvaraj. It would be fair to assume that most would have perceived the person as a trans woman. Such assumptions are unhealthy. A basic thumb rule in any gender-sensitive environment is to never assume a person’s gender identity or sexual orientation.  Unless an individual unambiguously expresses that they are transgender, they cannot be perceived as one. Going by this, Selvaraj can only be considered as a loving father who transgresses gender norms.  Feminine mannerisms and performing in drag alone are not enough to qualify someone as transgender.  To assume feminine men are trans women will only validate the notion of gender stereotypes and fall into the cliché of glorifying toxic masculinity.

It has been an unwritten rule in Kollywood that the moment film makers decide to cast trans feminine or non-binary characters they have to think of scenes to use terms like pottai and the number nine.  Almost everyone from the Tamil queer communities would have faced these abusive terms, and movies play a huge role in legitimizing them. The obsession is such that in Movie I, the character Osma is admitted to room No 9 in hospital.

Pariyerum Perumal also has a scene where these terms are used against Selvaraj to abuse and bully them. Unlike its predecessors, the movie tries to reverse the abuse and attempts to show the damage created by these abusive terms and how they are always used by people with power. The terms here are not used by hero or comedian to ridicule and laugh at Selvaraj: they are used by the casteist thugs to abuse and bully an elderly person as an act of transphobia and caste based discrimination.  The scene brilliantly portrays pain and violence inflicted upon gender minority people. Especially with the gruesome act that follows, it sends a clear message on how verbal and physical abuse go hand in hand and why both need to be addressed.

Though some of us from the community did not find this particular scene to be offensive, a few others did and wanted the words to be muted. This moment presents an opportunity for gender minority communities to discuss and debate on how we want to approach mainstream cinema. Do we demand the banning offensive terms for good, or or do we look at the context and go case by case.  Do we really think we can erase the words from vocabulary of cis gender people by censoring the movies?

Finally, the part where Selvaraj is attacked, stripped, molested and chased away. The part that made me shiver, cringe and find it very hard to sit through. Though reality is not much different for gender minority people from working class and oppressed caste sections of society, the aftermath scenes as shown in the movie need to be scrutinized.  After such gruesome violence, the movie shows no action against the criminals. No legal action is taken; the police are nowhere to be seen. Pariyan is shown to be in anger and ready to go on a violent spree to avenge his father, but her mother intervenes and normalizes the violence, as it is not the first time his father has been abused.   In a society where gender minority people face sexual violence from all quarters, the last thing we need is for the victims to normalize rape and violence. What is the takeaway for mainstream audience if a progressive film normalizes sexual violence?

Interestingly, the film is censored to be suitable for all audience with “U” certificate. This brings out the question: do we even consider the gruesome act against Selvaraj as sexual violence? Or do we only consider it so if it is performed against a female body? How easy it is to erase atrocities committed against non-female bodies in Indian society!

To conclude, Pariyerum Perumal is an honest attempt to humanize gender non-conforming individuals.  In spite of its flaws, the movie will appeal to mainstream heteronormative audiences, and perhaps contribute to creating an inclusive society.

1. 

• Look at that guy, dude. He is so f#cking hot. Hey, see, see, he is looking at you
• Oh God! He is so damn good, man. But, what’s the matter? You are checking out boys? Have you been changed? Umm, Do I have a chance?
• Shut up!! I am arranging one for you, dumbo. Otherwise you will remain my roommate all your life. And waste your life by shopping and watching movies with me. And in the meantime I also won’t get a girlfriend.
• Ok ok!! Let me find one for you too. Look at that girl in blue kurti. Like her?
• Phew!! You look better than her.

2.

• BJP is losing this time. Mark my words.
• BJP? And losing in Gujarat? Have you gone crazy, sweetheart?
• If it does, then?
• Then…I will kiss you.
• In your dreams!!! And what if it wins?
• Then you kiss me.

3.

• Babe, it’s been a long time since we’ve watched a movie together. Let’s watch.
• Not a bad idea. Tomorrow is Christmas holiday too.
• Yes. Then today itself? After food?
• Great. You finish your lunch. In the meantime, I’ll finish my dinner. Then will sit together.
• Okay. Which movie btw?
• Dhoom 4? Is it on Netflix?
• Dhoom?? Uff, You will never change!!

4.

• Babe, which one do you like more? Spooning or getting spooned?
• What the hell is that?
• Sh#t!! You are so unromantic. Will you cuddle me or shall I?
• Honey, at least until we arrange for an AC, let’s keep some distance on the bed. At least, for the summer?

5.

• You snore too much when you sleep
• No, I don’t. Rather, it’s you who flail your arms while sleeping.
• That’s for defense. To stop you from snoring.
• Nonsense.
• Nonsense? Didn’t you listen to the recording?
• Conspiracy!! That’s not me. Someone else.
• Don’t say like this. If you don’t do anything about your snoring, I shall sleep in a different room from now.
• Go, who is stopping you? But don’t come back to wake me up at the middle of night saying “some shadow is moving outside”.
• Don’t laugh. Seriously, there is some spirit in this house.
• Sure there is. But not one, a pair of them. One snores and the other flails arms during sleep.

6.

• Someday, I will leave this house and go far away.
• Good idea. When are you going?
• Oh. You are waiting for me to leave? Listen, I’ll go nowhere. I’ll stick around here only.
• No no. Let’s go somewhere. You and me. Together.
• No way. If I go with you, you will again irritate me.
• No, babe. Just one cup of tea made by you in the evening. That’s it.
• OK, got it. Wait for couple of minutes. You won’t let me rest!!

7.

• I am now taken for granted for you, right? You don’t really care anymore.
• Huh?
• Did you even listen to what I said?
• Wait for a min. Just let me complete this e-mail and send it to my office.
• I am thinking of going to Kolkata to my parents for a month.
• No. Not this month. Next month.
• Why? Just because you have year-ending workload in your office?
• No, because your annual medical check-up is not yet done. The way you are going out of breath while fighting with me, it’s not safe to let you get close to to your brother and sister-in-law before you get yourself an ECG.

8.

• Who is that in your office party photo? Never seen her before.
• Newly joined. Very efficient.
• Yes, I see.
• Now, you are after her?
• No. Was just saying that many new people are joining your office.
• So what? They’re joining the office, not our home.
• Who is resisting even that?

9.

• …
• …
• …
• …
• …

           Complete silence.

10.

• I always pray to God to take you before me.
• Why? Why you want me to die before you?
• Without you I can still manage. But, without me you will be a complete mess. You are old, but you haven’t grown up. You can’t manage life.
• I shall learn when required.
• Seems so. Not that easy.
• Even harder than living without you?

11.

• So, finally you left me. Probably when the call comes, we all have to go. But, don’t be so happy about it, ok? ‘ Coming there very soon to irritate you. But next time, I shall go before. You can’t leave me alone like this every time… that’s not fair. You know, I don’t fear ghosts anymore. Moving shadows now just feel like you. But, I don’t get good sleep at nights. Doctor says it’s my high BP. He doesn’t know anything. It’s your snoring that I am missing. Without that, it’s difficult to fall asleep. Anyway, ‘coming to you shortly. We will start another journey together. Yours truly.

‘Together’ is a series of conversations between two persons. There is no clear indication whether the two are the same or different in each episode. An attentive reader might have already noticed that the persons involved carry no names. Not giving them names was intentional. Names map to certain identities, labels and stereotypes.

For example, if I say they are Mansoor Farhad Yusuf and Dr Nupur, you will understand that this is the couple from Kavi Nagar (Ghaziabad, UP) whose wedding ceremony was vandalized by Hindutva groups.

If I say they are Ramdulari and Ayushmaan, you will understand that they belong to different socio-economic backgrounds.

If I call them Divya and Ilavarasan, then you will understand this was the couple who were violently separated and the latter murdered because of their caste difference.

If I say they are Moumita and Venkatesan, you will wonder if they had faced great troubles for their different food habits, after starting to live together.

And if I name them John and David, or  Geetha and Priya, you would exclaim in disgust that there must have been some mistake.

My dear friend, although we tend to classify people by imposing artificial labels, in certain things we are very much the same. Our feelings of love-hate, joy-sorrow, likes-dislikes, really do not know these labels. Living together is a canvas where all these colors are painted. Irrespective of caste, religion, gender, ethnicity and mother tongue the picture painted is equally beautiful. For every one of us, the eternal happiness of holding the hand of the beloved is the same. Same is our sorrow when the loved one leaves us. Believe me, the labels we have don’t matter at that point, even the slightest.

Keeping that truth in mind, let us accept equal rights for all couples. Let us make ‘live and let live’ the music of our lives. Rather, let us focus more on loving each other. You will find the world much more joyful that way my friend. Colours of spring will fill the earth.

These musings were sparked by reading my young friend Samarpan’s inscription on the wedding card of his sister: see below.

Author Prof. Abhijit Majumder is a faculty member in the Dept of Chemical Engineering, IIT Bombay. He works on stem cell biology and tissue engineering. Writing on different socio-political issues is his hobby. Views expressed here are the author’s own.

Translator Arpan Kundu is a Ph.D. student at the Institute of Mathematical Sciences in Chennai, and is part of the Orinam collective. Apart from his studies, he has a keen interest in Marxist Feminism.

Artist Sulipto Mondal studied painting at the Government College of Art and Craft, Kolkata, and obtained a Master’s from the Department of Visual Arts, Kalyani University, Nadia, West Bengal. He is an event decor artist by profession.

Vishal was nervous. Partly because he desperately wanted one of the coveted B.Com. seats. No matter how high one’s +2 grades were, there was always a chance they would have run out of seats by the time his turn came. He had set his heart on joining Vivekananda – Commerce was what he saw himself doing in the future. Moreover, he’d heard about the college debating team that regularly swept away top honours at inter-collegiate competitions. His debating skills had been developed well over the years of arguing with his parents, friends and the neighborhood aunties. Plus, being on the team would give him a wholly legitimate reason to visit the Stella Maris, Ethiraj and Women’s Christian College campuses…

Vishal was nervous for yet another reason. All his certificates were in the name ‘Visalakshi’. This was his grandmother’s name, one that his doting parents had given to the infant they thought was their daughter 17 years ago. Even though he had told his parents, and pretty much everyone around him who hadn’t guessed on their own, that he was, in fact, a boy – it had proven impossible to get the name changed on his school records, as those faithfully reflected the name and gender he had been assigned at birth.

The swelling crowd of young men and anxious parents making their way to the college gate, all in a heightened state of apprehensiveness, did nothing to relieve Vishal’s own worries. He had asked Appa and Amma not to come along, in case they complicated things by their well-meaning but long-winded explanations.

A washerman’s baby donkey tethered to a pole across the street from the college gate caught his attention. Extracting one of the two apples from his jolna pai, he walked towards the animal, which received the fruit with an audible sniff of approval and began munching away enthusiastically, as Vishal caressed it behind its ears.

To say Vishal loved animals would be an understatement. Be it cat, dog, or – in this case – donkey, all domestic animals seemed to gravitate towards him and he towards them. None cared about his name mismatch, his gender, unfashionably close-cropped haircut, his baggy shirts, or whether he liked boys or girls. Vishal could see himself and baby donkey becoming good friends over time. This prospect further strengthened Vishal’s resolve to get into Viveks.

“B.Com ellaam inge vaanga”¹, beckoned the stern-looking clerk at the office. There was a separate queue for B.Com, and Vishal quickly joined the line of prospective students clutching their folders, some trying to conceal their fear behind brave talk of future MBA entrance tests they were already preparing for, and others silent, wishing this ordeal would end soon, and in their favour.

His turn came in about 45 minutes, by which time he had managed to fill in the application form, stick the photos, and even scrawl reasonable fascimiles of his signature in triplicate. “Application kudunga”², said the man in charge of verifying documents. Vishal could feel his heart pounding as he gingerly handed in his application form (name ‘Vishal Natarajan’) along with his transfer certificate, attested copies of his Higher Secondary grade sheet (name ‘N. Visalakshi’) and the originals for verification.

“Idhu yenna saar?”³, exclaimed the man, as his eyes darted suspiciously from application form to grade sheet to transfer certificate to Vishal’s face. The man’s impulse, honed over years of poring through documents of countless applicants, was to reject any application based on a wrongly or incompletely filled form, or at least send the applicant back to get his papers in order.

This time, however, he stalled. Never in his twelve years of service had he been confronted with a set of documents like this. All marks in the upper 90s, but the name? What could this mean?

Time stood still for Vishal, as the students behind him shuffled impatiently.

After what seemed like eternity, but in reality was probably no more than a minute, the man thrust a blank sheet of paper and a Reynolds pen at Vishal and said “Write a note addressed to the Principal, title it CHANGE OF NAME AND GENDER, give your old and new names, and affix your signature”.

Not sure what was happening, Vishal complied.

“Now, Mr. Vishal Natarajan, go and pay your fees at the Punjab National Bank. Be sure to fill in the challan correctly and get the counterfoil stamped at the counter” said the man, now smiling broadly.

Vishal narrowly avoided a speeding Yamaha as he skipped across the street to offer the baby donkey his second apple.

It was, after all, time to celebrate the start of a new friendship…

Notes:
[1] “All B.Com. applicants line up here”.
[2] “Hand in your application”.
[3] “What is this, saar”?

This story was first published in the thread ‘Once Upon a Time: Fairy Tales for the Queer Desi’ on Orinam. Click here to read the entire set of tales.

This study explored how gender plays out in public and private institutions and the multiple ways in which interlocking systems of heteronormativity, casteism, class and ableism are enmeshed within patriarchy to create exclusion, marginalisation, pathologisation and violence. It illustrates the multiplicity of ways in which people live gender and testifies that even if there are gender laws, in a just world there can be no gender outlaws. This study has also been a successful experiment in collective research and writing.

In 2013, we published the report titled Breaking The Binary: Understanding concerns and realities of queer persons assigned gender female at birth across a spectrum of lived gender identities. The key findings of the report were shared in public meetings in six cities around the country (ed: including Chennai). We also translated and published the report in Hindi in 2014. In July 2015, Zubaan published a book based on this study titled No Outlaws in the Gender Galaxy, which is now available in bookstores and online.

The English report has been up on our website for free download since its release. We would now like to make both the Hindi and English reports accessible to a wider audience and are extremely grateful to Orinam for putting them up. We can be reached at labiacollective@gmail.com and some of our earlier work is available at www.labiacollective.org

Click here for Breaking The Binary, English

Click here for Breaking The Binary, Hindi

India’s Public Service Broadcasting Trust seeks proposals from starting-out and mid-career filmmakers for the award of Independent Fellowships for films that engage with experiences and conversations around sexualities from various standpoints. From personal narratives and stories to social commentaries, the project provides a wide canvas to explore, both creatively and politically.

Format: Full High Definition
Duration: 10 minutes
Average Budget: Rs 2 lakh
Languages: English and Hindi mandatory
Deadline for Proposal Submission: 06 pm, 06 February 2017

Full details are available at http://www.psbt.org/general/callforproposals: scroll down to Proposal II.

PSBT has been commissioning films on non-normative sexualities and genders for over a decade. Some notables include: