Interview: Drag more than art – its a manifestation of gender and a way to challenge society

Parent. Partner. Author. Dancer. Drag performer. Patruni Chidananda Sastry wears many identities – all just as proudly and courageously. Like the colours of the rainbow that have come to represent queerness, Sastry’s identity spans its many shades, some of them darker.

The idea of a fixed gender identity can permeate queerness as well. In 2012, says Sastry, when they realised that they were different, there were only two labels to associate with: that of a “transgender” or a “homosexual”. “I didn’t know a better vocabulary for self-identity and it made me confused,” Sastry said in an interview.

Sastry’s eventual realisation of their non-binary bisexual identity, however, came with a different set of complications. “People still believe bisexual individuals don’t exist and usually it’s a phase people use when they fear coming out,” said Sastry. “…Hardly do people realise that bisexual individuals can be trans too, bisexual individuals have their own set of problems and issues especially when they explicitly come out and speak up their truth.”

For Sastry, this has meant that their marriage can be perceived as not adequately or appropriately queer. “I was pulled out of performances and opportunities based on how not queer I am,” said Sastry. They stuck to being to being vocal about bi representation, saying that there are few bisexual individuals, assigned male at birth, who speak out for fearing of losing community support.

“There are times where relatives and people assume that I am straight as I am seen as a ‘married man’ blinding my queerness, which makes me feel uncomfortable.” said Sastry. “But I also rely on this passing to safeguard my partner and child by acting up my masculinity in public.”

But Sastry has always firmly believed in speaking their truth – and this closely shapes their drag performance as well. “The reason why I choose drag is because of the canvas it gives an artist to explore, the freeness, no rulebook autonomy is what resonates with me,” said Sastry. “My drag is not an extension to my sexuality, it’s a manifestation of my gender.”

Drag was almost incidental. It was Indian classical dance that Sastry had trained in and been performing for 12 years. However, the gender and caste politics of Indian classical dance did not resonate with their personal being. “That was a time when I was trying out other forms like performance art, booth, contemporary and expressionist dance and I came across drag when I visited Bangalore for pride,” said Sastry. They returned to Hyderabad deciding to hold a couple of drag performances in the city where “there were no drag queens, drag artists or even queer nightlife”.

Then, 200 people showed up for Sastry’s first drag show at café in June 2019. “That’s when I realised the difference drag makes versus the forms of dance I was doing,” said Sastry.

Being an open and proudly queer performer is one thing. But to be a parent is another, something Sastry is acutely aware of. “The societal stigma around queerness and drag can be harsh, and the current political climate doesn’t make it any easier,” said Sastry. “Yet, I believe that by continuing to be visible and outspoken, I can help create a world where my child, and others like them, can thrive without fear.”

When did you realise you are bisexual and how did you go about “coming out” as bisexual?

I always knew that I was not able to see the difference between gender and all bodies were attracting me since I realised attraction. In my college I had been with both boys and girls and that is a time I realised I was different, but back then around 2012, there were only two labels to associate with: one being a transgender person and other of being a homosexual person. I didn’t know a better vocabulary for self-identity, and it made me confused with who I am.

It was only when I was 21 years and moved to Hyderabad in 2014 is when I heard terms like bisexual and pansexual, which were affirmed by queer identity. Coming out was a very different process to me. I came out first with my gender identity as gender-fluid person (non-binary/trans) when I was giving an interview to Times of India, commenting on the verdict [repealing Section 377] in 2018 – the news article published eventually outed me across my common friends and family. My parents didn’t ask many questions but did tell me that it’s my onus to educate them and tell them if they go wrong.

In the years that followed, I informed them that I am bisexual person, that I am attracted to all genders which didn’t surprise them either. I had to explain to them what it feels like [since] there isn’t a colossal word for bisexuality in my language. I have been very open about my relationships when taking my dating partners into my home early on which did leave a hint to my parents and coming out just confirmed it.

While sexuality beyond heterosexuality is usually shamed and stigmatised in the cis-het world, bisexuality which is part of the rainbow spectrum of sexualities is often scorned and frowned upon within the queer world. How do you address this reality?

When I was an early bi person in the Hyderabad queer community, a very senior trans activist said to me in a casually funny tone “your sexuality falls in the middle, neither too dominant or too suppressed sexuality” and I guess that summarises the attitude. Bisexuals and pan people in the community have never been seen as the core main issues to consider or speak about. People still believe bisexual individuals don’t exist and usually it’s a phase people use when they fear coming out.

Bisexual individuals’ experience isn’t something queer organisations, corporates or the mainstream have ever invested interest on, majorly because it’s seen to be as a pass on. But hardly do people realise that bisexual individuals can be trans too, bisexual individuals have their own set of problems and issues especially when they explicitly come out and speak up their truth.

When I came out about my marriage, I was called out by the very community, I was pulled out of performances and opportunities based on how not queer I am. This is something which we often see in Pride month where bi+ people/artist get booked less compared to cis gay men /trans binary identities as either people don’t consider their journey worthy, or they assume they don’t fit the bill for the gay gazing in parties.

I believe that it was more of a compulsion than a need for me to be very vocal about bi representation because hardly there were any Bi+ AMAB [assigned male at birth] person speaking about it. And there are still many bi men and AMAB people living a dual life for the fear of losing both the communities. People accept or feel my experience only because my partner comes with me as a vocal ally, but had that not been the case, I would have not been visible in queer spaces.

You are also a drag artist and news reports suggest you are the first person to bring drag to Hyderabad. Why drag? Is it an extension of your sexuality?

I was trained in Indian classical dance and have been performing for 12 years, but as I read and got involved with the queer community, somewhere the classical dance placement and the entire narrative Indian classical fraternity carries with gender caste and politics didn’t resonate with my personal being. That was a time when I was trying out other forms like performance art, booth, contemporary and expressionist dance and I came across drag when I visited Bangalore for pride.

When I went back to Hyderabad, I realised there were no drag queens, drag artists or even queer nightlife and I thought why don’t I try this form of expression for a couple of performances and then move back to my dancing. I did our first drag show in a cafe of a friend on June 9, 2019, and expected only 21 people. But the event turned out to be heavily crowded as more than 200 people flocked to the space to see what was drag and that’s when I realised the difference drag makes versus the forms of dance I was doing.

The reason why I choose drag is because of the canvas it gives an artist to explore, the freeness, no rulebook autonomy is what resonates with me. My drag is not an extension to my sexuality, it’s a manifestation of my gender. I believe with drag I can equate every aspect of my life including spirituality, sexuality, sensuality, cultural identity and musicality.

How did marriage to a woman come about in your case? From what I read, you are happily married but I would think you must have faced some hurdles to get to where you are. Is that so?

I never thought I would ever be married. I always thought that I would never have a soulmate, as I was still grim from abuse that I had been through when I was nine years old, studying in a boarding school. Those incidents left an indelible and painful impression on my personal relationships. Oftentimes I would not connect romantically with anyone. I did date both men and women in college but none of them turned into romantic attractions.

But the instant I connected with my partner, I developed a deep connection with her. My partner used to stalk me on social media at the time of Covid, when I was doing drag and makeup live on social media and she used to join every live [stream or event]. Post-Covid, when we all got a period to relax and take a break, I went to my hometown near Vishakhapatnam and that’s when I met her in person in a get-together. She directly walked towards me and said, “what do you do on Instagram, you wear makeup wigs etc, what is it called?” I would never expect someone to come up to me and ask about my drag, but that is what struck a chord. I opened up to her and started sharing what’s the drag I do.

After that we were chatting regularly and at the time when it was getting serious, I came out to her with a text message, “I am bisexual”. In response, she sent me a Wikipedia page and asked if this is what I meant, and then started talking about everything other than this conversation. I bombarded her with queer stories, articles and links which made her fussy where she said, “I get that, it doesn’t matter to me unless you love me as a person” and that’s the time I realised she was with me.

She eventually helped me come out to my elder sister and always speaks up for me whenever needed. One thing I didn’t do was to inform or talk to my in-laws, I never directly tried but also didn’t hide anything from them. Maybe social media videos or press interviews, they get all my details as they were and are part of my WhatsApp broadcast. Having said that, I didn’t take the effort to educate them as somewhere I let this be told by my partner and not me. There are times where relatives and people assume that I am straight as I am seen as a “married man” blinding my queerness, which makes me feel uncomfortable. But I also rely on this passing to safeguard my partner and child by acting up my masculinity in public.

What has fatherdom meant to you and as your child grows up, how would you explain your “unconventional being” to your child? What do you foresee as challenges for your child given the conservative nature of society, schooling, universities and so on?

Fatherhood has been a profound journey of growth and self-discovery for me. As someone who was always pampered as the youngest child, the transition to being a parent has been both humbling and transformative. Sharing my life with my partner, who was initially unfamiliar with the nuances of gender and sexuality, has deepened our bond and helped me navigate the complexities of being an out and proud queer person. Our journey has been one of mutual understanding and support, especially as I continue to express myself through drag and live my truth.

When it comes to explaining my “unconventional being” to my child, I intend to be open and honest, emphasising the importance of love, empathy, and self-expression. I believe children learn from the environment we create, and I want to provide a space where they feel safe to be who they are, without judgment or fear. Drag, for me, is not just an art form but a way to challenge societal norms and celebrate diversity. I hope to impart these values to my child, teaching them to embrace differences and stand up for their beliefs.

However, I am acutely aware of the challenges that lie ahead. Our society can be conservative, especially when it comes to non-traditional family structures. My child may face discrimination or prejudice because of my queerness and public persona as a drag artist. Schools, universities, and even social interactions could pose difficulties as they grow up. But I am determined to equip my child with the tools to navigate these challenges with resilience and confidence.

As a queer parent, I know this journey won’t be easy. The societal stigma around queerness and drag can be harsh, and the current political climate doesn’t make it any easier. Yet I believe that by continuing to be visible and outspoken, I can help create a world where my child, and others like them, can thrive without fear. My partner and I are committed to raising our child with love, empathy, and joy, hoping to instil in them the strength to face the world with an open heart and mind.

Given that you are a parent and have a child, if you were to choose the way forward for the queer movement would you put anti-discrimination laws ahead of marriage equality?

This is a very tough question. I would benefit from both.

For instance, my marriage would not be legalised if I were to be registered in the government records as a trans nonbinary person (which essentially, as I said earlier, means I am gender fluid). I am still a cis man for the government, and somewhere, accessing my transness with social transition would risk basic needs, dependencies for my family such as health insurance benefits, nominees etc. I wouldn’t be able to register the birth certificate of my child if I would claim my trans non-binary identity legally. So, there is an urgent need for marriage equality as without it, it makes the life of people like me more difficult.

Having said that, an anti-discrimination law helps me protect my child’s and partner’s future. I am scared and filled with fear for the day when my child would hit school given the bullying they may face due to my open queer identity. Anti-discrimination could give people like me hope to be safeguarded with a blanket of laws.

For example, the discrimination that denies me the right to donate blood. Imagine this very specific clause could have a direct impact on my family specially if I had to give blood to any family member. Additionally, and not directly related to the question you have asked, I do believe there is an urgent need for horizontal trans reservation which is still not being considered. So reforms at more than level is much needed, and any right direction is for the betterment of the whole community.

Sharif Rangnekar is the author of Straight to Normal and Queersapien. He is also the director of the Rainbow Literature Festival.

This article is part of the Queer & Inclusive series.