During the vibrant Pride Month, the effervescent drag artiste, Patruni Chidananda Sastry, from Hyderabad, revels in an even deeper sense of pride. This month holds an extra special meaning for him as he embraces the journey of fatherhood, having recently welcomed his child into the world with his cis-gender wife, Raja Rajeswari Devi. As we connect with Patruni, his face glows with a radiant joy. Yet, amidst this bliss, he bravely shares the vulnerable corners of his heart, where he hopes that the shadows of fear as a queer father are gradually dispelled by the glimmer of hope, love, and acceptance. During our conversation, the 30-year-old pansexual recounts the kind of trauma he endured for 21 long years which he never wants to get trickled down to his own child. Patruni then delves into the power of art as a potent instrument of self-assertion, where his artistic repertoire spans across drag dance, Bharatanatyam, and Butoh (a Japanese theatrical style). The Kharagpur born artiste also reflects on the diverse audience he has performed for. He tells us about breaking away from the conventional Westernised version of drag with Tranimalism — a postmodern grotesque interpretation of drag that originated in the 2000s in Los Angeles. The artiste shares about why he wears a unique avatar of drag, eternal love for his cis-gender wife, smashing societal pressures with art and how he wishes to nurture his child. Excerpts:
Being a drag queen, you have just become a father. How does it feel?
I have always had a strong desire to have children due to my curiosity about them. Interestingly, I recall being the most pampered child within my own family, which fueled my desire to shower love and care upon all the kids around me, whether they were relatives or cousins. When I got to know I’d be a father, I went through a whirlwind of emotions. I felt nervous and anxious. On the other hand, my wife Rajeswari appeared to be relatively calm and composed. Now, after the child is born, I find myself collected, while she is incredibly nervous (laughs).
Any changes in habits, mindset or lifestyle that you brought in after being a father?
Yes, I have noticed that I am becoming increasingly conscious of certain aspects, like finances. I want to provide my child with the best education and life possible and so I need to strike a delicate balance between livelihood and pursuing my artistic passion as a drag queen. That’s why I keep drag for weekends and do a regular job at a firm in Hyderabad to raise my family. I want to ensure that my family does not face any financial burdens due to my pursuit of drag.
What are the important aspects you want to educate your child on — something you feel, had you known in your childhood, would have eased your life?
Until the age of 21, despite receiving love and sup port from my parents, I lacked the courage to approach them and share my truth as a queer. However, I don’t want my child to experience the same confusion. I intend to educate them about gender diversity. At the same time, it is crucial for me not to impose my own inhibitions or thought processes onto my child. They can be who they want to be. Even if the society or relatives attempt to assign a specific gender label to my child, I believe that the decision should ultimately rest with them, as they mature. I am learning to raise my child from the unique experiences of single mothers, bisexual individuals, and trans women like Gauri Sawant. I want my kid to grow in self-acceptance and self-discovery, having a strong sense of identity.
In what capacity do queer parents face more challenges than heterosexual parents?
Prior to conceiving, my wife and I had late-night conversations discussing whether and to what extent I should subvert aspects of my identity and until when I could censor certain drag dance videos of mine. There are individuals in my family who ask ignorant questions after watching some of my videos and so I don't want to expose my child to such ludicrous conversations. For example, I don’t want some random parent to see my drag videos, show it to their kids and then that kid teases my child the next day, because of my profession. I have experienced trauma and I don't want it to pass on to my child. However, my wife reassured me that times have changed. Unlike when we were growing up, schools now engage in open seminars and conversations about these topics. It is up to us, as parents, to actively shape the progressive narrative.
Tell us about your childhood… when did you come to realise that you are queer?
I was very different in my choices. I was drawn to more feminine and expressive elements. At the age of five, I began learning Bharatanatyam while most of the boys opted for sports. I also felt uncomfortable in situations where I had to sit with a group of boys. When watching movies, I never imagined myself as the stereotypical macho man. Instead, I resonated with nonmale characters. If given a bat and ball, I would use them to create a dollhouse-like structure. I felt delightful wearing my sister’s dresses.
How have art forms like Bharatnatyam, Butoh and drag helped you express your queerness?
Bharatanatyam provided me with a platform to wear makeup, jewellery, and beautiful costumes while expressing myself through dance. This classical art form nullified the opinions of those who questioned my choices because they couldn’t dispute my participation in a respected art form. Later, I also learnt Kuchipudi, but realised that these classical dance forms were gender-exclusive and rigid in form and structure. There was little room for trans or non-binary individuals. Even if there were trans dancers, they were often put on a pedestal. This frustration led me to explore other art forms, and I discovered Butoh. It lacked structure and embraced movement therapy, addressing taboo subjects such as illness, death, sexuality and nudity, which were considered anti-art in traditional understanding. It was through the fusion of Bharatnatyam and Bhutoh that I began to define my dance as a form of expressionism. Critics would come forward and criticise over my mixing of classical and contemporary art. However, I believe that dance should be flexible and open to experimentation. This idea of dance allowed me to utilise my body as a vast canvas for exploration and challenge societal norms.
How did drag happen, where did you hear about it for the first time?
It was in 2018, while in Bangalore, that I witnessed someone performing a drag dance for the first time. Initially, I didn’t fully understand it. I thought it was simply men dressing up as women in OTT costumes. However, it was the space in which these artistes performed and the underlying idea of drag that resonated with me. I felt the need to bring the drag culture to Hyderabad. At first, I did not want to perform drag myself. I was concerned about how I would look as an adult dressing up as a woman. Additionally, I was body conscious as I was plump. However, in June 2019, I took the plunge and did my first drag show in Hyderabad at Nirvana Cafe. We initially expected a crowd of 21, but to our surprise, the moment the performance began, a crowd of 500 people gathered. The audience erupted in cheers and applauded throughout the show. It was an exhilarating experience; unlike anything I had felt during my Bharatanatyam performances. From that day, I knew that I wanted to pursue drag.
How did people connect with your drag dance in a hyper-local milieu like Hyderabad?
In the beginning, I predominantly performed in Hindi and English, but I realised that the audience wasn't able to fully understand. It became apparent when my wife attended one of my shows and said she faced a language barrier. So I began reimagining Old Telugu classic and folk songs like Cheeranjive Cheeranjiva, Chudu Pinnamma and more by rewriting the lyrics and making them gender-inclusive. Eventually, the local audience enjoyed it. Starting from June 2019, my drag shows became more public – I performed at metro and railway stations, malls, and Durgam Cheruvu Cable Bridge. By incorporating Telugu music and embracing public spaces, I bridged the gap between drag and the audience. Performing in open spaces has its own challenges where people also misbehave with queer artistes at times.
Tell us the different kinds of audiences that you come across?
It’s true, there is a distinct contrast between the male audience and the rest of them. It often leads to amusing and at times, uncomfortable encounters. Old men sometimes approach me for my number and casually flirt. Once, I was performing on the topic of safe-sex. It involved distributing condoms to the audience at the end to make them aware of practicing safe sex. I recall one person mistaking the condom for a chocolate and attempting to open it. It was funny! But unfortunately, not all incidents were great memories. Men have also touched me inappropriately. That compels me to channel my trans aggression into my performances. Women, on the other hand, join in dancing and singing along with me. I have an organic bond with them. Last year when I was performing in Ameerpet, a young girl walked in during one of my performances and started dancing with me. Moments later, other women joined in too. It was truly exhilarating!
Why did you choose Tranimal drag?
I don’t want to portray a conventionally beautiful woman. This is why I go all out with my outlandish makeup – I draw bold brows, wear vibrant lipstick, and apply dramatic lashes. It enhances the theatricality of the performance. I choose to wear a sari as a marker of my South Asian identity. I am grateful to my mother, sister, and wife for lending me their Kanjivaram saris (laughs), some of which even date back to my mother’s wedding. That way I want to break free from the glamourous Western concept of drag. If I am not going too far, I think, drag’s roots can be traced to India too. You will find art forms where men dress up as women and perform in various parts of India in the form of Launda Naach of Bihar or Kaniyan Koothu in Tamil Nadu. These art forms are not inherently sexual, as popularised in Western gaze.
Over the last three years of your married life, what has glued you and your wife together despite being opposite in gender?
Kanjeevarams (laughs)! When Rajeshwari and I were dating, I was unsure if I would be able to effectively communicate my true self to her. I was determined not to build our relationship on the invisibility of my queerness. That would have led to suffocation and a life in the closet, which I couldn’t bear. But Rajeshwari’s maturity, acceptance and love made me feel secure with her. When we got married, I received flak from some members of the queer community who questioned my decision to marry a heterosexual person. This backlash triggered anxiety within me. However, Raji stood by my side, and her support silenced the society.
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