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Story of an identity
AUG 27 -
The first few minutes after meeting her are spent wondering how you should address her: bhai, bahini or just ji attached to her first name? You will look at the shading on her eyelids as they bat like a coquette’s, watch her hands fly in subtle motions through the air and return to her lap, only to fly out again to tuck a wanton strand behind her ear. After all that, you’ll perhaps settle for bahini instead of bhai or ji.
Even though her gestures make her look extremely fragile, Bhumika Shrestha exudes confidence. After being crowned Ms. Pink 2007 in a beauty pageant for the third gender, Bhumika has earned semi-celebrity status in Nepal, and the media has quickly developed her public identity. But during the first few meetings with her, it’s hard to form an opinion of “Bhumika” the identity. Despite reading a number of pieces on her in the newspapers and watching her on TV, you still want to form your own opinion.
An image search for “Bhumika Shrestha” will land you on pages of a fashionably-dressed transgender, smiling to reveal a neat set of molars—almost grinning. Some of them are photos that appeared in newspapers, of her partying with friends. That’s the impression she’s created for herself with the Nepali audience for a long time. But the new Bhumika is slightly different.
Draped in cotton saris, she’s a faint reminder of the women seen on Hindi soap operas. Bhumika now wears a tika, earrings and bangles to match her sari. If you pass a compliment, she will laugh and say she’s just practicing to become more serious about her career.
In August 2010, Bhumika was nominated to represent Kathmandu District Constituency No. 9 (Naikap) in the upcoming Nepali Congress general election. Establishing a niche for herself, she was elected to represent the minorities just nine months after she joined the party, beating out Muslim and Madhesi contenders who had been in the party for almost ten years.
“Nepali Congress has sent out a big message by electing me. It’s a big message for the country and for the party,” she says.
Since the election, life has changed for Bhumika.
Besides her life at the Blue Diamond Society office, she now spends more time visiting Congress leaders and attending interaction programmes organised by various groups.
“I remember waiting for hours to meet government officers over the issue of citizenship. But now, it’s the ministers who invite me to their homes. Some of them have even told me they are proud of me,” she beams.
With all the limelight she’s enjoying at the moment, Bhumika still doesn’t have her own citizenship. On her citizenship card, she is still Kailash Shrestha, a name given by her family with which she always had difficulty identifying. Her passport and citizenship have often been a source of humiliation, compelling her to go through special scrutiny at airports.
“But I’m used to it,” she stops to look out at the Lazimpat street, where the rain falls noiselessly on passersby.
“I used to love the rain, but not anymore,” she laughs. Now, she is constantly worrying about the state of her cotton sari.
‘But I love wearing mehendi in Shrawan,” she flaunts the dark henna pattern on her palms. “They say your man really loves you if it is dark. Mine is. But I’ve stopped trusting men, now.”
“They abandon you when they realise you can’t have a family.”
The conversation reverts to how journalists often ask her if she had to have an “affair” with a politician to get where she is. But those are not the first uncomfortable questions in her life. For years, Bhumika confronted terms like hijara and chakka.
“I could never walk to school in peace. I always feared people would fling shameful words at me,” there’s a catch in her voice and a hint of tears in her eyes. She bats her eyelids, perhaps blinking them away.
At school, teachers tried to make her talk and walk like a man and punished her when she couldn’t. They ultimately decided her grace came from her love for dancing.
The first rays of hope in her life came out of her dream to become a dance director. But when she joined the Blue Diamond Society in 2003, she realised she could do much more to make the life of people like her better if she fought for their rights, instead.
“Childhood dreams change as you grow up,’ says Bhumika. “What I am today is what life has chosen for me. And I’m stronger today.”
Bhumika now wants to focus on being a good leader. She says there will be issues like reservation for women, minority issues, and HIV/AIDS which she will take up to make a difference.
For the Central region coordinator of Blue Diamond Society, since she joined a political party, there have been too many meetings in one day. Now, she is also preparing to run shows on FM and television about third gender issues.
“My identity is that of a transgender, but my role in society is that of a woman,” she finishes off her ice-tea. Her adam’s apple moves with the gulp. “I feel and think like a woman. I like to be beautiful. I’m also very sensitive and gullible.”
She tugs at her sari and draws it up her shoulder to keep the anchal intact.
“I like the idea of being a single mother,” her voice rises in excitement. “But life’s a bit ironic,” she says matter-of-factly.
She cups her face in her hands--her well-polished nails shimmer. “I don’t get PMS. But I still suffer like a woman in many ways.”
Posted on: 2010-08-28 08:58
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