Latest news with #Kulavai
The Hindu
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
How trans woman activist A. Revathi uses theatre and literature to fight for Pride identity
When asked about the significance of Pride Month, Revathi said, 'Pride is not just a celebration — but a protest for survival, visibility and acceptance. From forced marriages to conversion therapy, queer people — especially those from working-class and rural backgrounds — fight to just exist without shame. We march to be seen, to affirm that our identities are not a disease or disorder.' Revathi published her first book in Tamil, Unarvum Uruvamum (Our Lives, Our Words) in 2004, followed by The Truth about Me: A Hijra Life Story, published first in English (translated by feminist historian V. Geetha) in 2010, which, a year later, was published in Tamil as Vellai Mozhi. This autobiography is now made into a play with the same name and was staged at Kulavai, a two-day festival held at Alliance Française in Chennai. Kulavai explored feminism, queerness and resistance in Tamil theatre. It also celebrated renowned theatre personality, A. Mangai's, four-decade journey in the field. It was amidst this that Revathi performed Vellai Mozhi to a packed audience. The play's power lies in Revathi's raw honesty, as she brings her life story to the stage by selecting deeply personal moments from her book — those that resonate with the audience. 'I use art — books, poetry, drama — to move hearts and spark a change,' she says. 'People must understand what I express. While some in the queer community reject sympathy, I see it as the first step. Sympathy can lead to support, and support can bring rights. Transforming society is not easy — it takes time, patience and persistence.' Revathi revisits painful chapters of her life, yet manages to convey queer joy to a largely cisgender, heterosexual audience. With wit and disarming honesty, she recalls the first night she slept in a woman's clothing — reflecting on the irony of how modesty demands women be fully covered, even when fully dressed. She ecstatically dances to film songs, celebrating a femininity once shamed and rejected by her family and society. LGBTQ+ activists often stress that joy is a survival strategy, not just a feeling — it is a refusal to be defined by pain alone. Her activism is grounded in the understanding that caste, class, religion, gender, sexuality, and ability overlap to shape people's experiences of discrimination or privilege. Revathi has consistently supported trans men and underprivileged cis-queer people, earning the love of the younger generation. In one scene, she highlights the public gaze transgender women endure — seen as a nuisance for begging, judged for their appearance, and denied respect in public. She flips the script, asking society: 'How dare you question us?' She exposes its brutal silence on child abuse, caste atrocities, honour killings, and acid attacks — crimes where those who speak out are often silenced or killed. Young queer people today worry about aging, haunted by fears of loneliness, lack of traditional support, healthcare discrimination and legal or emotional insecurity. In a society obsessed with heteronormative ideals like marriage, LGBTQ+ people often feel anxious about not finding a partner. Revathi shares a painful truth: parents do not always understand these struggles. Many push their children into lavender marriages to have children for society's sake. But, she reminds us, no child — biological or adopted — owes care to their parents in old age. Though she lovingly adopted her brother's children, now with families of their own, she refuses to rely on them for support. At 60, she lives independently, determined not to be a burden.' 'A partner should be for true companionship,' she says. 'Love can come from parents, friends, or even adopted children — connection is not limited to romantic relationships.' Her message to the youth: 'Education is key — studying and getting a job brings happiness and respect beyond sexuality or gender identity. Through work and social service, you can build supportive communities of friends and a chosen family. Do not limit yourself to work and education —nurture your talents, find creative outlets to keep your mind and spirit alive.' 'If I had let depression stop me, I would never have written the books that now reach so many students across universities. I may not know English, but I still stand in classrooms, share my story and fight for queer rights — because I refused to give up,' says Revathi, who was recently honored by Columbia University's 'Butler Banner Project', with her name displayed alongside iconic women writers, challenging the male-dominated façade of Butler Library and promoting inclusion in academic spaces. In a time when transgender rights are under attack and identities are being erased by those in power around the world, voices like Revathi's offer hope, strength and visibility to a community fighting to survive and be heard.
New Indian Express
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New Indian Express
Margins to movement: How Mangai and Marappachi rewrote Tamil Nadu theatre history
For decades, Tamil theatre has been amplifying a narrow set of voices — men behind the mic, stories framed by dominant caste perspectives. Women's roles were performed by men. Narratives of the oppressed were diluted, wrapped in pity rather than power. The stage long resisted certain stories — those of caste, queerness, or women's lived realities. When such tales emerged, they were often sanitised, made palatable for mainstream audiences. Change moved slowly, unevenly. Collectives formed. Protests erupted. Silence gave way to speech. A Mangai was part of this shift. Her theatre wasn't born from theory but from grassroots dialogue, contradictions, and feminist solidarity. Mentors, students, collaborators, and context shaped her. Over four decades, Mangai stood at the intersection of performance and protest, staging urgent questions rather than easy answers. Her work echoed lived experience: rage, tenderness, complexity. Now, she pauses not to rest but to reflect, and while doing so, invites us to do the same. Kulavai 2025 celebrates not just her legacy but the defiant history of Tamil theatre's marginalised storytellers — those who resisted, redefined, and reclaimed the stage. Named after women's sharp ululation — at rituals, protests, celebrations — Kulavai is a reminder of countless stories that still await their turn. Ahead of the event, Mangai speaks with CE about feminist theatre, fractured solidarities, and the slow work of carving space for all.
