Queerious in Madras – The New Indian Express

Express News Service

CHENNAI:  For decades, the LGBTQIA+ community has undergone relentless struggles to gain its rights in our society. While many have branded it as “unnatural” or “blasphemy”, the LGBTQIA+ have, in fact, been an integral part of our nation’s history and even been presented in many myths and religious contexts. On Saturday, Chennai-based scholar and theatre practitioner Dr V Padma, better known by her pseudonym A Mangai, explained various stages of the history of the queer community in Madras through a session ‘Let’s talk Queer: Tamil Nadu & Madras’s Queer History’. The talk was hosted by DakshinaChitra as the finale of their Madras Day series.

Before delving into the city’s queer history, Mangai explained the relationship LGBTQIA+ has with society at large. “It is a large spectrum. What queer (identities) does is really question what we consider (as a society) normal or legitimate. And very often what is considered legitimate is the dominant view. In the process of talking queer, what we are doing is undoing hierarchies and social leanings in terms of class, caste and sexuality,” she said.

The existence of the LGBTQIA+ can be seen in stories of the Mahabharata through the presence of Aravan. The son of Arjuna and Naga princess Ulupi, Aravan is a celebrated icon among the transgender communities. “From Villupuram to Chennai, you will find temples for Aravan. A 1906 manual by W Francis describes the festival of Koovagam (village in Kallakurichi), saying there are many men in saris and they would get a thali tied by the poosari to be Aravan’s bride for that night,” she explained. The festival also celebrates the mourning of Aravan’s death through performances; a look into both joy and sorrow through the event.

Despite the backing in mythology and religion, such acceptance was hard to be found in reality. Yet, it was not without exceptions. According to Mangai, Mughal culture also played its part in the queer history of then Madras. “Mughal culture was in a way really safeguarding and providing an asylum for those who don’t want to fit in,” she stated. She showed a short clip of the play Freedom Begum, which depicts the story of Akhtar Begum who would give marginalised people asylum in the Begum Mahal of Ulsoor, Bengaluru.

Even till the early 2000s, the LGBTQIA+ spectrum only meant trans people and gay men in public knowledge. Their history still revolved around addressing life or death issues within the community; it had not yet evolved to look at the big picture or rights and acceptance. More recent decades brought with them the shock of the HIV outbreak in the mid-80s. In India, the first case of the virus was found in sex workers from Tamil Nadu rescued from Bombay. In 1993, the Tamil Nadu State Aids Control Society was created to tackle the issue and several community members became queer educators. Soon enough, you had ‘Pulli Raja-vukku AIDS varuma’ campaign broadcast in every household, bringing home large-scale curiosity — if not awareness — about the disease and need for screening. 

The room for revolution perhaps began with activists demanding ID cards for trans people in 2002-2003. Without an official acknowledgment of their identity, many had to rely on old school certificates and such that still carried their ‘deadnames’. It was around this time that self-help groups for trans people also came up in Chennai, Mangai recounted.

Yet, it would take an entire decade — 2014-15 — for a call for a pride movement that was more local and reflected the lives of Tamizh population. For a state that had already had a storied history with suyamariyathai iyakkam (self-respect movement), pride too came to embody similar principles. “This started in Chennai. Gay, lesbians, bisexuals, trans people and other groups asked ‘What does pride mean on this soil?’ It means self-respect, they answered. They called the pride march Suyamariyathai Perani, which was, at one go, questioning caste, class and gender hierarchy. I think the parade is one of the best that Tamil Nadu has to offer and it began in Chennai,” exclaimed Mangai.

“Another thing that was brought up in Chennai was the idea of intersectionality. How do you work with other people (not from the community)? What trans people did was bring in their own culture, like Oppari. Oppari is a very common part of Tamil Nadu…,” continues Mangai. In the recent years, art has been a significant way for the community to engage with those on the outside — allies or otherwise. Be it the Chennai Kalai Theruvizha’s Thirunarvizha or Chennai Makkal Isai’s many programmes or works of theatre groups like Kattiyakari, there have been many venues for an open dialogue. 

While the LGBTQIA+ community still fights against discrimination, poor mental health, medical care and more in our society, there are victories to be celebrated every so often. “Now, in Chennai, pockets of trans people have brought themselves up as givers and providers. In the second wave of the lockdown, the Trans Community Kitchens began providing meals to hospitals and platform dwellers. For the first time, trans people, who have been in the margins, could actually feel like they don’t have to always be receivers. Which, in my opinion, they have never been,” concluded Mangai. With initiatives like these, we add another positive account to the history of the queer community in Chennai.