Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Sunday, Jul 29, 2007
Google



Magazine
Published on Sundays

Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |

Magazine

Printer Friendly Page Send this Article to a Friend

FOCUS

New possibilities

Effeminate boys who revel in their transgender mannerisms end up in a nowhere space of sexual abuse and bleak future. An NGO in West Bengal is giving them hope by training them in alternative means of livelihood. RINA MUKHERJI


Accolades earned as a kid playing Vishnupriya did not prevent Ramesh Das getting abused as he grew older.




Towards a life of dignity: The boys at the Karanjali Centre.

Traditionally, folk and classical theatre forms in India have always been out of bounds for women. Consequently, female roles have always been enacted by boys and men. This had, in turn, created a demand for effeminate males who can convincingly port ray female roles taking advantage of their trans-sexual identity and cross-dressing preferences.

As a general rule, young, effeminate village boys are picked up and trained by masters in highly exaggerated female mannerisms, which very soon grow to be the hallmark of these individuals. Very few such boys overcome all this and grow to be normal men once puberty sets in. The fact that many fail to develop their secondary sexual characteristics marks them out socially. A good number continue to revel in their transgender mannerisms, and end up confused.

Subject of scorn

They are also the subject of abuse and scorn in the family, not to speak of neighbours and schoolmates. This sees them generally giving up academics early in life, and settling down to whatever they can do. In spite of many taking to books as a counter to the abusive external world, frustration at ill-treatment and verbal abuse from schoolteachers has them give up studies. Few muster up the courage to fight back and complete an education to get inducted into a profession. If they are let in into any profession, it is generally as male prostitutes or dancers in mobile theatre groups who are often sexually abused by their audience.



With the artist Supriyo Das.

Take the case of Rithan Das of Kakdwip. Effeminate and delicately-featured, he had been a regular feature in village Shiv Gaajans held during the Hindu month of Chaitra. Dance was what appealed to him most, and he would often sway to tunes he picked up on the radio. As he grew up, people grew less and less appreciative of his effeminate ways, and he ultimately gave up academics to move off to his married sister’s place in Kakdwip, where he picked up employment as a sales assistant in a sweets shop. An acquaintance introduced him to dancing at weddings. “My earnings tripled, but on occasions when I travelled, sexual abuse and molestation were common. However, guys who abused me also ended up paying me a lot,” he reveals. The same is the case with his friends Sudhansu and Kanchan, who found dancing at weddings the only option open for a living.

The usual story

Ripan Das is a strikingly effeminate boy with a very good command on language and aesthetics. Ripan was doing very well at school, when, overcome by the regular teasing he was subjected to, he abandoned studies. Family members did not spare him either. “My sisters-in-law are particularly mean, and parents heap scorn on me for being more lady-like than most women. I often ask the Almighty — Why was I not made a total woman? Why did the Almighty do an incomplete job on me?” He now ploughs two bighas of land which he has taken on lease to earn a living, even as he aspires to educate himself privately.

Arif Hussain Piyada of Rangaphulia has not been teased at home. But he gave up studies at the middle school level owing to constant barbs from teachers and students. The same has been the case with Shaukat Ali Piyada of Baruipur, who was saddled with poverty in addition to scorn, and hence did not study beyond the primary level.

Limited options

Ramesh Das of Kalikapur had to leave home after his primary-level education to escape the barbs and scorn he faced daily. Accolades earned as a kid playing Vishnupriya did not prevent him getting abused as he grew older. Living with his maternal uncle at Chhoto Rakhaskali, Ramesh took to performing at Shiv Gaajans . Moving into jaatras (mobile folk theatre) was only natural as he got older.

There are a very few people such as Barunabh Taati, who never let the barbs hurled at him stand in the way of a good education. The son of a primary school teacher, Barunabh took solace in education, and completed his B.Com with honours. However, his mannerisms prevented him from getting suitable employment, and he had to fall back on his sculpting talents to set up shop at the Karanjali market. His friend Biswajit faces the same problem. In spite of a graduation, he is still struggling to get a job, and is pursuing a course in computers, hoping for an opening.

Bappa Hazra of Kakdwip is a similar fighter, who continues attending school unmindful of the teasing. “Teachers have stopped singling me out for fun ever since I topped in English. I am determined to top my district in the school finals,” says this Class IX student.

High-pressure conditions

But few fail to crack up under similar conditions. In a country where procreation has been put on a pedestal, and newly wed brides are blessed with. “shataputra sawbhagyawati bhavaa” (May you be the mother of a hundred s ons), a social deviant who seems incapable of fulfilling his traditional role and family obligations is considered an outcaste. It may subject the person to unwarranted attention from gays and homosexuals, or even leave him vulnerable (if very young) to kidnapping by gangs of eunuchs who are always on the prowl for such boys.

At the same time, practically all have a very high sense of aesthetics and are extremely talented in what are considered feminine talents like embroidery, painting and jari work. They are very good singers, dancers, sculptors and alpana (the Bengali equivalent of the north Indian rangoli) decorators.

Kartik Naiyya, for instance, has been earning a living the last few years by doing jari work, and decorating wedding venues with alpana motifs. He specialises in making people up for weddings. An unfinished educat ion and barbs directed at his femininity have never curbed his creativity or capacity to earn a living in his native village in Durganagari in Kulpi.

Nurturing an identity

These are the talents that Praajak, which has been working on child rights, is bent on developing and helping them nurture an identity that would enable them earn a living. As Deep Purokayastha explains, “We stumbled on the problem of these individuals when working with platform children in the districts of West Bengal. Abuse and ill-treatment of these feminine boys is common; as also their vulnerability to getting kidnapped by gangs. In Malda, their traits are nurtured by the masters of Manasa Gaan, while in the south 24-Parganas, they are in great demand for Shiv Gaajan. But the problem is the same, and they end up in male prostitution. That is when we decided to wean them into an alternative livelihood.”

In South 24-Parganas, Praajak has been helping these individuals in Karanjali and Kakdwip. It uses a community schoolroom at Karanjali to impart lessons in fabric painting, batik, jari-work and art to these boys thrice every week. A community centre is used for a similar exercise in Kakdwip. Noted painter Supriyo Das, who visits the boys regularly to instruct them on the finer points of these artistic pursuits, is all agog at their abilities; “I find them extremely talented.”

Tough task

However, it has been quite an uphill task for Praajak ever since it commenced work on this project. It was only when project executive Manik Bairagi came into contact with Barunabh Tati when buying an idol from the latter for the community school in Karanjali that the ball was set rolling. Barunabh’s presence and contacts came in helpful, as most such boys shun being summoned to an unknown place, fearing sexual abuse. Besides, their ultra-feminine fears are very much in evidence when meeting strangers.

Today, the Karanjali and Kakdwip centres cater to 25 boys in the district under the aegis of its Sex, Sexuality and Sexual Health Promotion Programme with Children and Adolescents funded by Save the Children, U.K.

Until society gets sensitised to this minority, professional training in the vocations should hopefully help in providing these boys with an alternate means of livelihood that is infinitely superior and more respectable than the transgender roles they don in folk performances.

Printer friendly page  
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail



Magazine

Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |


The Hindu Group: Home | About Us | Copyright | Archives | Contacts | Subscription
Group Sites: The Hindu | Business Line | Sportstar | Frontline | Publications | eBooks | Images | Home |

Comments to : thehindu@vsnl.com   Copyright © 2007, The Hindu
Republication or redissemination of the contents of this screen are expressly prohibited without the written consent of The Hindu