It was under differing contexts that they each took to dance. For Manjamma Jogati, a renowned practitioner of Jogati Nritya from Bagalkot, dance was part of her assimilation into the Jogappa community. The Jogappas are traditional groups of transwomen spread across Karnataka, Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh and share a strong sense of affinity with Goddess Yellamma. For Lakshya, a Kalakshetra-trained Bharatanatyam dancer and teacher based in Chennai and Maalika Panickar, a dancer proficient in Bharatanatyam and Mohiniattom, based in Singapore- both began as male dancers, passionate about Bharatanatyam. The discovery of the woman in them came way after they were already deeply invested in dance but it changed nothing when it came to their passion for dance.
Next week, Manjamma, Lakshya and Maalika will be among the 14 transgender artists participating in the ‘International Trans Arts Festival- Expression Beyond Gender’, organised by the International Arts and Cultural Foundation, Bengaluru. Curated by Shrivatsa Shandilya, the festival will take place between July 29 and 31 at the National Gallery of Modern Art.
As they are busy rehearsing for the festival, I ask each of them to take me through their journey in dance, one that is intervoven with their life itself. The first thing that struck me during my conversations with them is the sense of warmth they exuded.
“Tiffin aaitha?” asks Manjamma warmly, as I introduce myself on the phone. I could sense her excitement, all the way from Bagalkot. “Are such festivals rare?” I ask her. “The stage and the festival circuit are not new to me, especially after the State has recognised Jogati Nritya as a Janapada kale (art). I’m just excited by your tone and tenor. I love it when people are nice to me,” she clarifies.
That Manjamma has had a tough life would be a gross understatement. After her family refused to accept her because of her transgender status, Manjamma consumed poison. “I was rushed to the hospital in Davangere. My family believed that this (transgender) does not happen to people of their caste. Shortly after my SSLC, I began to feel different. I began to do puja, put rangoli outside my house, wash vessels etc. It was clear that this was goddess Yellamma’s influence on me. Neighbours began to say, Jogati madbeku , a specific ritual which would initate me into the Jogappa community,” explains Manjamma. “The doctors somehow averted the spread of poison and I recovered. When I returned home, it had been three weeks since I had become a Jogati. My father sent me out of the house and asked me to live like the Jogatis do,” she recalls. Shunned by her family, Manjamma found herself wandering and it was then that she found refuge in dance. She reached a Yellamma temple where an old lady gave her shelter and food. Then, she began meeting other people from the Jogappa community and was gradually led to her guru, Kalavva Jogati, who initiated Manjamma into the field of dance and music. “Until then, based on what I had observed, I used to practise balancing Yellamma’s pot on my head, try back bends, turning while lying on the floor etc. My guru gave me opportunities to perform, whether it was at a santhe or a jatre . She taught me how to decorate the holy pot, the make-up to put on my face, the particular movements of the form etc. I also began to essay important roles in the plays that Kalavva performed in. If she was Renuka, I’d be Parashurama,” she adds. “In a way, the Jogappas until then, were known for the Choudki pada , a form of singing. Jogati Nritya came to be crystallised as a form because of the efforts of my guru and me. From the streets, we took it to the proscenium too,” she explains and adds "Dance helped me discover myself. Today, after seeing me on TV and on stage, my family is so nice to me too. Those who would shun me, now trek all the way to come see me.”
Incidentally, the sequence of events is reversed in Lakshya and Maalika's case. “It was Manju Bhargavi’s performance in the film Shankarabharanam that made me want to take up dance. I joined Kalakshetra, Chennai in 1992, pursued my diploma, then the post-graduate diploma and was a (male) teacher there too for a while. Then in 2006, I resigned. It was only after that that I converted to a woman,” describes Lakshya.
Little did Lakshya know then that her transgender status will not be so well-received by the people around her. “A few years later, I applied to the post of an instructor at Kalakshetra again but was turned down. I really don’t know why. They said that I need to contact the Ministry now that I fall into the transgender category and I did that too. But, I don’t know why they are not considering my application.”
Did her peers in Kalakshetra know about her being a transgender? “I’m sure they had a hunch. It wasn’t obviously a surprise. But why should my being a transgender affect my candidacy for the post of a Bharatanatyam teacher. I’m qualified and competent enough to be a teacher like all the other teachers in the institution,” she adds.
Until recently, Lakshya was taking private classes at a house in Madipakkam. Sadly, during the December floods, it was completely destroyed. “I won't scream on roads, tease people or go begging for my livelihood. I'm educated and an artist and dance is what I know and all I have. It is my refuge."
Conversely, Maalika begins her story by fondly remembering her performance at the alumni meet of Kalakshetra just last December. “I can now say that I have performed on Kalakshetra’s stage as a man as well as a woman,” she says.
Maalika, then a man, began as a male dance student at Kalakshetra in 1988. Thereafter, she went to Singapore to teach Bharatanatyam at the Singapore Fine Arts Academy.
“It was in Singapore that I finally accepted the fact that I was always meant to be a woman. As a country, Singapore is also a safe place for these surgeries and the respect given to transgenders here is also immensely heart-warming.”
How did her students react when she became Maalika? “When the decision was made, I called my students and their parents and told them that henceforth, I’m going to be Maalika. They were so supportive and said that for my students, it doesn’t matter what gender their teacher identifies with. It is the dance that is important. When I left SFA to start my own school, I had more than 100 students join me,” she recalls.
As I listened to each of them speak, I realised that while their lives have been tumultous, it is their dance that has kept them going. For Manjamma, her dance, she says, has given her respectability in her society. For Lakshya, dance is a form of refuge, her source of livelihood, even when society seems to have turned its back on her and for Maalika, it was her dance that confidently led her from the thresholds of masculinity, safely into femininity and even gave her societal acceptance. However different their journey in dance may be, interestingly, all of them believe in a common dictum- ‘I am an artist and art knows no gender or caste’.
Event
The schedule of The International Trans-Arts Festival is as follows: July 29: 4 p.m.: Inauguration, followed by performances by Manjamma Jogati, Ramavva Jogati and Vasuki (Light music singing), July 30: 2p.m.: Screening of Naanu Avanalla...Avalu, directed by B.S. Lingadevaru, followed by performances by Maalika Panicker, Lakshya and Varsha Antony, July 31: 4 p.m.: Panel discussion on Naanu Avanalla...Avalu followed by a Bharatanatyam by Narthaki Nataraj
