Beyond barriers! India set for its first trans fest in Bengaluru

Narthaki Nataraj is among the most visible dancers on Chennai's culture circuit. She is an awardee of the Sangeet Natak Akademi and a holder of the coveted Nrithya Choodamani title. To watch her essay the nayika in the elegant Thanjavur style is a connoisseur's delight. Nothing could prepare you for the revelation that she was born Nataraj.

Her story of gender transformation is one of many that will fascinate visitors at the first International Trans Arts Festival in Bengaluru. It is, however, the arts that will headline the event as transgender artistes come together to perform spoken word, music, dance, film screenings, and so on. Personal stories though, will provide subtext.

Nataraj's own transition to Narthaki started when the agonized seven-year-old, born in a conservative Madurai family, realized his disconnect with boys his age. He also developed an irrepressible urge to dance. The family, distressed over his apparent femininity, would have none of it. But there were always Tamil films with their vivid quasi-Bharatanatyam dances to watch. Vyjayanthimala, particularly, had him riveted.


Picture: BCCL

He began a covert search for a guru along with trans friend and co-conspirator, Sakthi, without the family's knowledge. The two managed to take dance lessons with a guru from distant Sivaganga. But to make the definitive shift to Narthaki, it took 14 years of tenacious learning with legendary Guru Kittappa Pillai, who dealt with the youngster's gender dilemmas with great compassion.

Today, Narthaki is one of the top choices for nayika roles and so mainstream that her history rarely comes up for discussion. The only time she recalls her dark moments is when she seeks to inspire other artistes battling tremendous odds.

The other trans names sharing the classical dance stage with Narthaki have their own inspiring histories — there's Singapore's celebrity Mohiniyattam dancer and reality TV diva Maalika Ganesh Panicker, Malaysia-based Bharatnatyam dancer Varsha Anthony and Kalakshetra Lakshya. There is also Manjamma of the Jogappa community, the transgender devadasis of Karnataka, who will perform ritual dance and music with her troupe.


Picture: AFP

Born in rural Kerala, it was Ganesh's boyhood dream to take on the form of mohini, the ultimate temptress, in dance. But there is only so far you can go in Mohiniyattam with a male body — this is one dance totally devoid of men. "So I learnt Bharatanatyam at Kalakshetra where there is greater possibility for male dancers. It wasn't until later, when I moved to Singapore, which pioneered gender reassignment surgery, that I was able to take up Mohiniyattam as a woman," says Maalika.

In many ways, performing arts are an ideal fit for transgenders. Indian classical and folk forms are very accepting of gender fluidity. Kathakali, Kuchipudi, Yakshagana have traditionally featured men in female roles, and the greatest masters of Bharatanatyam, Kathak and Odissi all had a stunning talent for essaying women.

"The aharya (costume and make-up), the theatricality of these arts, and the suspension of belief they demand have made it a comfortable space for transgenders to inhabit. If you notice even on the streets, the hijra community is performative," says dancer Anita Ratnam.

Twenty years ago, designer and culture activist Rajeev Sethi had hosted The Hidden River, a festival at the National Centre for Performing Arts in Mumbai, showcasing India's classical, folk and ritual traditions that transcend gender. And now we have this initiative by the Bengaluru-based International Arts & Cultural Foundation. "It is important to offer a bigger platform to transgender artistes," says photographer and organizer, Srivatsa Shandilya.

It would be oversimplifying the complexity of trans struggles to only talk of the success stories. Bharatanatyam dancer Kalakshetra Lakshya is still fighting to find her place. "The world is neatly structured for men and women. Where do I fit in?" asks the dancer who was born Rajesh in Alwaye, Kerala. He learnt Bharatanatyam at Kalakshetra and taught for a few years as a man.


Picture: EPA

At age 33, Rajesh went in for a surgery but the Lakshya who returned home faced a pretty hostile family, and returned to Chennai. She didn't get her job back, and the experience has left her bitter. "I find myself forever anxious and fearful," she says.