Thursday, April 9, 2009

In search of dignity

The portrayal of transgenders on the Tamil screen has been insensitive, but this is set to change, says Lakshmy Venkiteswaran.

Megaserials such as Kolangal and Arase on Sun TV have characters that depict transgenders in powerful roles

The society in which we live treats us with nothing but contempt and ridicule," says Rose, a transgender in Chennai who is famous for her talk-show, Ippadikku Rose on Vijay TV. See IBN-CNN video report on Rose below.

This is evident from the insensitive portrayal of transgenders in Tamil films, which more often than not associate aravanis with sexual innuendos and double entendres. Films such as Jayam (2003), Thullatha Manamum Thullum (1999), Eeraman Rojave (1983) and Thiruda Thirudi (2003) have used aravanis for comic relief - making fun of their mannerisms and dress.

This is a far cry from Hilary Swank's Oscar winning performance as the protagonist in Boys Don't Cry, which is based on the life of Brandon Teena, a young transman who was raped and murdered in 1993 by his male friends after they found out about his sexuality.

"Indian comedians lack the creativity needed to come up with fresh comedy. As human beings, we lack empathy and that reflects in the comedy tracks featuring transgenders," says Rose.

However, this is set to change. Her talk show has not only received rave reviews but also changed the stereotypical image of a transgender.

"The public is, for the first time, seeing a transgender being articulate, sociable, intelligent and beautiful. My show has paved the way for transgenders to be treated with the respect and dignity they deserve."

Rose, who plans to make a film that portrays transgenders in a different light, says that lack of acceptance by the society is not limited to India. "People should realise that we are the way we are not to make anyone laugh," she says.

Megaserials such as Kolangal and Arase on Sun TV have characters that depict transgenders in powerful roles. In Arase, Bubloo plays the transgender Ganga who is pursued by police.

In one episode, she is arrested and thrown into cell full of males where she is harassed.

7 "I love her dialogue in this episode. It's a reflection of the problems that we face everyday.

Access to public toilets, for instance, is a serious problem. The government needs to formulate special plans to help us cope with society," says June, a transgender in Chennai.

In the Tamil film Appu (2000), the villain is a transgender, Maharani, a power-hungry pimp who eliminates anyone she perceives as a threat.

"Ganga and Maharani are negative characters but you cannot generalise this," adds June.

"There are good and bad people everywhere and transgenders are no different from the rest!" Navarasa, directed by Santosh Sivan, is one of the few films that show the life of aravanis.

Told through the eyes of young Swetha, who is shocked been discovering that her beloved uncle is a woman in a man's body, the film captures the annual Koothandavar festival in Koovagam. Commercially, Navarasa was a nonstarter but the film won much critical acclaim and also the National Award (2005) for the Best Regional Movie.

"If Navarasa had commercial elements such as a dream sequence with the lead pair gyrating to peppy beats, it may have garnered different response. Very few, even among the literate, appreciate meaningful cinema such as Navarasa. The times are changing and awareness has increased about the transgender community, but more needs to be done in terms of policies and laws," says Ameer, the director of the film Paruthiveeran.

Debutant director Kadhir, of the soon-to-be released Tamil film Thenavattu, says his movie will set the benchmark for portrayal of aravanis in Tamil cinema. "We even feed a stray dog but we wouldn't want to help these people. They resort to begging and prostitution because of lack of employment. My film throws a differ ent light on this community. We need to learn to empathise and also change our attitude towards aravanis," he says.

Legislative concerns Homosexual relations are still a crime in India under Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, which dates back to 1860 The vague nature of the legislation has resulted in it being used against a wide range sexual behaviour such as oral sex (heterosexual and homosexual), sodomy, and bestiality The punishment ranges from 10 years to life imprisonment No major Indian political party has raised endorsed gay rights in their party mani festo or platform. However, a politburo member of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), Brinda Karat, did in 2003 write an open letter to the then minister for law and justice, Arun Jaitley, demanding a repeal of Section 377.

I was imprisoned in a male body, until a surgeon's knife cut me free

By Gazal Dhaliwal
Photo: Sanjay Ahlawat


Soon after I turned 13, my mirror stopped being my friend. The school uniform added a compulsory turban to my head, and nature added hair to my face. Clothes were nice if they were my mother's and long hair was fine when it was in plaits, instead of being wound inside a turban. Games were fun as long as they were 'Teacher' and 'Housekeeping' and not cricket; preferred companions were girls and not boys. But then I was Gunraj from Chandigarh, today I am Gazal, 25.

And if you just looked at my picture again to check how masculine (or feminine) I look now, I will not blame you. It is the most natural reaction from a society, which unconsciously enforces a rigid distinction between genders. Any blur on this line is generally laughed at. Yet, I must tell you the story of my gender change, my liberation. Because there are thousands of people who feel trapped in their bodies. They hide instincts for fear of rejection, uncertain whether it is right to feel and want what everyone around them finds wrong. I want people to know how I survived 25 years in a role I did not choose for myself. A role which I played day after day without any hope of the curtain falling.

When I was often told that I was girlish, I was totally confused. The condescending voices opened taps of guilt deep inside, but somewhere even deeper, rivers of happiness sprang from that acknowledgment of my true self. But the happiness made me feel guiltier because no one told me that it was all right to be happy.

One of my happier childhood memories is of a school drama, in which I played a female character. During rehearsals, I was the most excited actor. Dressed in a pretty skirt for the performance, I told my father that I would be adjudged the Best Supporting Actress, if my performance was good. Best Supporting Actor, he corrected. I argued and tried to pick holes in his argument. But reason and logic were on his side; I only had a mess in my head. A transsexual child is forever trapped in this quest for identity, and in finding ways to evade the mocking laughter and derogatory names hurled by taunting peers. There is a sinking feeling all along that I do not fit in, that I never will fit in.

Puberty is a tough time for everybody, a time when one tries to understand one's sexuality. In that age of unanswered questions, I distinctly remember getting goosebumps watching a provocative music video by a male pop singer. And in the numerous sleepless nights that followed, it dawned on me, for the first time with a sense of absoluteness, that I was different, and would always be. For years to come, I was to think how unfair it was of God to make me gay.

But thankfully God did not leave me without anything. Today, I do not value academics much, but through my growing up years, I was considered a "bright child", "good orator" and a "very disciplined student". But for me my worth was in my singing, writing and histrionics. Recently, when I met my ex-schoolmates and teachers, they had high opinions about my student days. Said one, "Gunraj, I used to think it so unfair that you had every enviable quality in you." While another said, "I wouldn't have imagined you as anything, but a truly happy child."

I give my family the entire credit for still having been able to retain a sane mind. My stress found an equal opposition in the love I constantly got from my parents, my extended family and later, my friends. Initially, my parents could not comprehend how a boy could feel like a girl, yet they never gave up trying to understand, and never gave up on me. They would ask me to try and change the way I thought. I would wail: "It is not about the way I think, it is about the way I am. I do not choose to be like this, Papa. I was born this way. Why don't you go and try living as a member of the opposite gender?"

They did not punish me even when they found out that I would impersonate a girl and chat to strangers over the phone. When I ran away from home before my board exams, they brought me back and loved me even more. My brother, sister and relatives stood by me and held me tight when I teetered at the edge of a precipice.

The board exams went well, so did the entrance exams and I was admitted to a well-known engineering college. Thus I went to spend four years of my life in a boys' hostel. I was prepared to be an oddity there, ready for the remarks-"Always goes to the bathroom to change!" "Speaks so effeminately!" "Walk is so girly!" What I was not prepared, however, was for the severe ragging. Despite those unmentionable horrors of the first year, those four years are the most beautiful time of my life. In the cacophony of mocking voices and laughter, there were a few precious faces, which became my dear friends. I think it was in those years that I started realising that it was all right to be happy with myself. College life gave me freedom and the chance to explore my extra-curricular interests. Besides singing, debating and directing college plays, I would sneak out and watch late-night movies and go on trips with friends.

After completing college, I found myself sitting in the massive office of a software giant, gazing at the computer screen. A studio apartment, the company bus, my desk and the office dormitory summed up my entire world. I was rated among the top 10 per cent of the company's 20,000-strong work force. I never objected to an 18-hour workday because it kept me from the jeering whispers in the corporate hallways.

It was hard to trust anyone now. The fear of rejection kept me from accepting anybody new in my life. I desperately wanted to run away again, but I realised that the only thing to run away from was my own self. There were times, however, when the pangs of loneliness were so acute that I would look for a companion in gay websites. I would also meet men occasionally, but they were looking for a 'man' in me-my whole life had been about not being one. Gradually, I understood that gender dysphoria is not the same as being gay. While the causes of stress in both conditions might be similar to an extent, the conditions themselves are quite different.

A homosexual man, for instance, might have no problem in wearing a formal shirt and tie to office every day, while that particular dress code of my company was one of the three main reasons I decided to quit! My extremely peaceful and dull place of posting was the second. The third reason was an attempt to 'fit in' somewhere.

So I moved to Mumbai-my city of dreams. I was doing a one-year diploma in filmmaking. I was I happy that I had made the right career choice, and filmmaking was a sedative to the pain I could never completely learn to live with.

A year passed in a flash, and it was time to choose subjects for our final documentary films, which had to be made in groups of six. When I proposed 'Transsexuality' as a theme, only two friends who knew my condition raised their hands in support. That was perhaps the most important moment of my life. Soon enough, three more friends joined in, and the group was complete. The title suggested was 'To Be or Not To Be'. It sounded perfect, but something inside me said that it would change. The new name occurred to me the next morning-To be… ME.

I had never had any plans of coming out of the closet for the film; but that was the case with all the transgenders we met. Soon I realised that I was expecting others to face the demons, which I could not face. Now it was time to accept, love and celebrate being myself. Almost magically, the day I decided to face the camera, we started discovering others who were willing, and even excited, to share their stories! In my heart, I knew it was God's way to tell me that He supported my decision. To Be… ME turned out to be the best film of the year.

I had been reading about Sex Reassignment Surgery (SRS) for many years, but my research for making the film had reassured me that it was not only all right to be happy, but it was my right to be happy. "So, when are you going for it?" was the first question my father asked after seeing the film. And ever since that question, there has been no looking back.

A year-and-a-half ago, I started my gender reassignment procedure, which will probably go on for another year. Frankly, this period of transformation is not one of the most convenient-socially, physically or emotionally. I was fortunate to be hired as an assistant by a veteran filmmaker and the staff at my office is truly godsend. They do their best to understand the issue and go out of their way to ensure my comfort in this period of transition. In the last 20 months my inner-self is slowly, but surely, taking its form in the mirror. I am thrilled to get compliments that I have always pined for, and it is musical to hear the taxi driver ask, "Madam, kahaan jaana hai?"

On October 19, 2007, my male genitals were replaced by female genitalia through vaginoplasty. Dr Chettawut performed the surgery in Bangkok. Currently, I down four tablets a day, a part hormone therapy, which has to be continued throughout my life. I am also undergoing electrolysis for removal of facial hair. This will continue for one more year. Finding myself cost me around Rs 5.5 lakh, including Dr Chettawut's fee of $7,000.

Thailand is renowned for male-to-female SRS. In my three-week stay, I saw patients of different nationalities, races and ages. Dr Chettawut performs around 20 vaginoplasties every month. It melted my heart to see a middle-aged woman accompanying her 'husband' for 'his' surgery. The 'husband' was a transsexual woman. I had read on the internet about such cases, where a spouse turns into a companion for a transsexual person, but to actually see it was like witnessing the purest form of love.

The surgeon's certificate identifies me as an "infertile female". Both are strong words. For most, the first might be stronger; for me, it is the second one. Being a mother, after all, is not just about the ability to give birth. Being transsexual, also, is not just about looking masculine or feminine. And the condition itself is not psychological. The bottom line is that gender dysphoria needs a medical correction. And an SRS is only as unnatural as any other surgery.

The sooner a transsexual person can start their gender reassignment procedure, the easier is the transition, and the better, the visible results. But at the same time, one must be mature enough to understand one's priorities. If 'infertile' is the stronger word for you, or if you're doing this for anybody except yourself, think again!

I still have a lot of catching up to do. I badly need to get some humour and spontaneity into my life. Then there is an urgent need to catch up on clothes, shoes, earrings and makeup. But there is this one thing I caught up with, recently and not many people do that-Life!

A Proud Young Woman

I was...
I was born Vijay, to Marwari parents in Nagpur, Maharashtra. Some of the earliest memories I have are of being different from the other boys around me. At that stage, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was that made me feel so trapped and helpless. As a child, one is not equipped to handle thoughts as mature and complex as gender or sexuality. But as I grew older and more aware of the world around me, I also became more aware of the world inside of me. And it confused me more.

The first awakening...

The movie, “Object of my Affection” opened my eyes to a new possibility. One I had not considered till that point. Homosexuality seemed the only plausible answer to my situation. And I decided that I was a gay man, and began dating men. However, the respite I received from this new lifestyle was not as fulfilling as I had envisioned. For the emptiness, the confusion and the confinement still gnawed at me, deep inside. It was in the 11 th grade when I met Karan*, and fell in love. Being with him opened me up, and that woman inside of me, whom I had kept suppressed this whole time, slowly began to emerge. He was the first person I opened myself up to. I told him everything. My fears, my state of mind and my deepest needs.
He understood, and he loved me for everything that I was. But it was not meant to last, for we live in a very unforgiving, judgmental world which has no compassion for anything that is different. The pressures of society were too much for Karan and we parted ways in 2001.

The road ahead...
I joined St. Stephens College, as a gay man . But I was a woman and wanted to be loved as one. And the more I lived this life, the more it chewed at my mind that I wanted to be with someone who would love me, not as a man, but as a woman . It was then that Hollywood would come to my rescue for the second time in my life. The movie, “Boys don’t Cry” finally discussed transsexuality and the fact that it is not as freakish as I had thought. Spurred on, I looked to the internet to enlighten me further about this new and wonderful opportunity that had appeared before me. What I discovered from that point on made me happier and stronger as each day passed. The shame and hurt soon turned to hope and courage.

The Struggle...
As luck would have it, everything at that point started to happen at the same time. Karan came back into my life, only to leave again. My family finally discovered my condition and made me seek medical help with the intention of making me see that all that I felt was just in my head and if I was only convinced otherwise, I would be able to carry on living as a man.
It was during this time that God sent me an angel, in the form of Dr. Amit Sen, my therapist. He made me see that what I was going through was genuine and that there was a way by which I could set myself free. It was he who began my slow transition from scared, confused man to happy, confident woman.

It was now, during my MA in Sanskrit that I decided to start my life anew. I shifted from North Delhi to Defense Colony. The shift was much more, however, since I shifted into my new home as myself, a woman called Mahua Agarwal.
I had been on hormone therapy for a while by now, which helped not only my physical appearance, but also the way I was perceived by other people.
After living as a woman for about a year, I was finally ready for the operation that would change my life forever. I underwent my Sexual Reassignment Surgery in August, 2006 and have been living as a woman ever since.

At peace, finally...
Now I am finally in a place where I am comfortable with myself. For the first time in my life, not only can I stand to look at the person I see in the mirror every day, but I am beginning to love her. I have no regrets, no expectations from my life or the people around me now.
But if I could, one thing I would like is to tell my story to as many people as I can, in the hope that through my experiences, they may learn tolerance and forgiveness for that which they don’t understand.

SHE was HEre (sic)


Tuesday March 18 2008 10:19 IST
on NewIndPress.com
by Manu Vipin

DRESSED in a black and white skirt and figurehugging top with a matching gold necklace, long earrings and anklets, she looks fresh even after a night-long dance performance.

Only the trace of stubble and a gruff voice call your attention to the battles she has fought.

The talented classical dancer and the director of Lakshya Performing Arts Academy, Chennai, P R Rajesh aka Lakshya took 32 years to muster the courage to reject the sex she was born with and accept her gender.

The secret had till then been hers and hers alone. The feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

“I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know what the label was. I didn’t know what the outcome would be,” she says. It was nine months ago that Rajesh from Aluva, now settled in Chennai, underwent the sex-change operation.

“I didn’t want to cheat anyone. I wanted to show the world who I was and now I am happy to live as me, a transgender,” says Lakshya who was in the city for a dance performance as part of the Sivarathri festival. And this was her first performance in her home town after her gender change.

“I was excited. Nobody recognised me and I revealed my identity only after my performance. Kerala society is still conservative unlike the rest of the country,” says Lakshya who has performed all over the world. But after the performance, she is pleased with the response from the audience. “I found a tremendous change in the attitude of people here,” she says.

Born into a middle-class family with four older brothers, Lakshya says she took to dancing at a young age. The movie Sankarabharanam had a great impact on Rajesh and ignited his passion for dance.

“I saw the movie when I was 12 years old and made up my mind to devote my life to dance,” he says. His parents supported him, and Rajesh started learning dance under Kalamandalam Sumathi.

He won many state-level competitions and when he turned 18 he joined Kalashektra, Chennai. “I learnt bharatanatyam for seven years and joined there as a guest artist and later as a teacher,” says Lakshya who is a post-graduate diploma holder in bharatanatyam.

She says all her life she was confused and lonely. “Women wouldn’t accept me and I used to feel hurt.” College life was painful. “I used to feel dejected at my repeated failures in love. I was attracted to boys and always, I was left heartbroken.

I even attempted suicide. When I look back I feel I was a real fool then,” she laughs.

It was her trips abroad that made her come to terms with her real identity. “There was lot of pressure from the family to get married. Initially I told them that I wanted to dedicate my life to dance,” she says with a smile.

Luckily for Lakshya her parents and her brothers accepted her. “She is talented and has a loving heart. I feel she has every right to choose her lifestyle,” says her mother Kamalam.

Post the sex-change operation, the transformation from Rajesh to Lakshya is complete, she says.

“Though there are challenges still, I’m no longer confused about who I am,” she says. “Since the operation I haven’t had any bad experience. I stay positive and believe that if you behave with dignity people will respect you.”

Lakshya considers dance as a medium to express her feminity and a divine gift from god. She is equally good at bharatanatyam, kuchipudi, mohiniyattom and folk dances, and has performed lead roles in Kalashetra dance dramas. Lakshya is also known for her skill in choreography.

She says she wants to dedicate more time to dance performances rather than stick to teaching dance at her academy. “I am young and now I have the energy to perform,” says Lakshya who is the recipient of T S Parthasarathy Award for Excellence in Dancing.

She is also a graded artist in Doordarshan. “I have seen many transgenders who feel sorry for themselves. But I feel lucky because today I believe in myself,” says Lakshya exuding confidence. “Today, I am secure in my identity.

Defined, not bound, by sex


By Petlee Peter

In the new year, says Panthappillil Rajappan Rajesh, a Chennai-based professional dancer, he will become an entirely new person. That optimism is founded on a literal truth. In a matter of weeks, Rajesh will officially become a woman, P.R. Lakshya – a big step forward in the quest for his identity. Rajesh, who hails from Aluva, Kerala is a former student and tutor at the internationally acclaimed Kalakshetra cultural academy.


A new life
‘Call me Lakshya,’ she said with a smile – but firmly – when Ergo caught her in the middle of a bharatnatyam teaching session for Belgian students. ‘This is a change,’ she said, ‘that has given me a new life.’ Her train tickets (which she shows with a pride that is touching) read ‘Lakshya F 33′; she has even applied for a new passport, which should reach her in January.

For Lakshya – in Hindi the word means ‘goal’ – the mental agony regarding her gender started right from high school days. “I was always felt like a woman inside and I was literally living in hell without being able to show it for more than a decade. I even thought about suicide a couple of times. But my strong involvement in dance kept me going,” she said.


Respecting change
This April, Rajesh decided to act. “I came out at last and decided to change my body. Now people respect me as a woman and I enjoy that,” Lakshya said, adding that in Indian society, there was no meaning to living “in between”.


Sex change operations are slightly more common in India than they were a decade ago, when few had even heard of the procedure. Lakshya says that in her immediate family, only her mother proved supportive. “My friends and students were very compassionate,” she said.

Inspired by famous danseuse Narthaki Nataraj, Lakshya has set up her own dance school called Lakshya Performing Arts Academy; she hopes to spot talent in people like herself and help them gain acceptance in society.


Her life ambition
A recipient of the 2001-02 T. S. Parthasarathy Award for Excellence in Dancing, Lakshya choreographed an evening at the World Military Games at Hyderabad recently.

Lakshya has accepted several television offers that came her way. Her inner demons dispelled, Lakshya is glad to concentrate on the future. She is defined by her sex, but not bound by it. “Now,” she said, “I’d like to become a successful Kucchipudi artiste.”

Photo credit: S.S. Kumar

A British tycoon and father of two has been a man and a woman ... and a man again ... and knows which sex he'd rather be

Businessman Sam Hashimi with his wife Trudi in 1990 before he became designer Samantha Kane


Charles Kane when he was the beautiful designer Samantha in Monaco in 2001

Property tycoon Charles Kane after two sex operations

Property tycoon Charles Kane is, by any standards, a very successful man. He has a multi-million-pound property portfolio, a law degree, a £250,000, 52ft motor yacht, a top-of-the-range Mercedes and a wardrobe stuffed with designer suits And yet, he is far from happy.

Despite all these attributes, which should act as a magnet to certain women, the one thing missing from his life is a lasting and fulfilling relationship.


In the past year not one of his few and far between romances has lasted longer than six weeks and more often than not they end rather abruptly after the first date.

Either the woman suddenly stops returning his calls after discovering his secret or, if they don't care too much about hurting his feelings, dismiss him with a withering: "I want a real man."

"There is nothing I want more than to fall in love and get married," says 48-year-old Charles. "It is like a knife to my heart every time I am rejected."I am a real man. I feel 100 per cent a man, but I am a sensitive, modern man. People can be so narrow-minded. All I want is to be accepted and loved for who I am."


The big secret stopping this from happening is a rather startling one. Charles is believed to be the only person in the UK to have undergone two sex change operations; the first to turn him into a woman and the second to turn him back into a man after he realised he'd made a horrible mistake.


Born Sam Hashimi, the divorced father-of-two had a sex change in 1997 to turn him into glamorous blonde Samantha Kane.


Then, in 2004, after seven years living as a woman, he decided he wanted to be a man after all. He is now in the unique position of knowing what it is like to be both a woman and a man, and he has reached the conclusion that it is much better being a man - even with the current disadvantages.


"The trouble is, I would much rather be the man I was before all this," he says.
Charles blames his ghastly predicament on the UK's then top expert on transsexualism, gender psychiatrist Dr Russell Reid - now retired - who in 2007 was reprimanded by the General Medical Council for rushing patients into sex-change treatments.


Dr Russell Reid was found guilty of serious misconduct by a GMC panel who rebuked him for his "lack of caution in initiating hormonal and surgical gender reassessment treatment in patients without more careful and thorough investigation and assessment".


Charles was one of those who complained and, while the hearing was ongoing, he was already in the process of changing back into a man.


Having decided he was not a true transsexual, but had been 'confused' after the break-up of his 12-year marriage, Charles had his breast implants removed and underwent three operations at the NHS gender clinic at Charing Cross Hospital to reconstruct his male genitalia, using skin grafts from his stomach.

He has to take strong doses of testosterone daily - by applying a gel to his body, because he can't produce the male hormone naturally, and although he says his new genitals look normal, intimate relations with a woman can be achieved only by means of a concealed pump.
I meet Charles at his £2million property in Holland Park, West London, where he cuts a debonair figure in a double-breasted suit and tie.


It has taken four years of hormone therapy to turn him into someone who does indeed pass as a man - but vestiges of Samantha still remain.Cosmetic surgery has left him with a very feminine nose, while £6,000 worth of veneers have given him a smile any Hollywood starlet would be proud to possess. His skin is likewise peachy smooth with just a hint of downy hair where stubble should be. The constant sweeping of his hair out of his eyes with a delicate hand is also a very feminine gesture. You can see he certainly would have made a convincing woman.


But what is so fascinating is his unique take on what life was like as a woman compared with being a man. "At first it was very enjoyable being a woman, especially being a beautiful woman in business.


"People notice you and it is much easier to make your presence felt at a meeting. I was flattered by the attention.


"I became much more creative as a person, and less aggressive. Whereas, once as a man it had taken me seconds to make a decision, I would think things through much more carefully, weighing up all the options before deciding what to do.


"People completely underestimate the effect of male and female hormones. Speaking from my own experience, they affect every part of your life, physically and emotionally.


"And then there is the sex. As a man, sex was a very physical and more enjoyable experience, but as a woman it was much more dependent on my mood and emotions.


"As a man, I thought about sex every day, but as a woman if I hadn't had sex for a couple of months I wasn't really bothered. "Sex as a woman isn't as good anyway. It is not as intense."
Although Charles was initially thrilled with his transformation into a woman - and a beautiful one at that - the novelty soon began to pale and he began to wonder if he was merely playing a part rather than feeling like a real woman.


"The worst part about being a woman is being treated as a sex object. I became very irritated when men I was just not interested in kept coming up to me with the worst chat-up lines I'd ever heard," says Charles.


Even though I was a woman physically, in many ways I felt I still had a male brain. I was still interested in the world, what was happening, current affairs, business and sport, but the women I mixed with didn't share that interest to the same degree.


"In fact, I found being a woman rather shallow and limiting. So much depends on your appearance, at the expense of everything else. I wasn't interested in shopping.


"My female friends would spend hours shopping for clothes, trying on different outfits. "But having been a man I knew exactly what would suit me and appeal to men. I could walk into a shop and be out again in five minutes with the right dress."Nor have I ever been interested in celebrity magazines or the things that interest other women, but when I tried to talk to men about blokey things they didn't take me seriously.

"Also, because I'd once been a man, I knew exactly how they thought and responded to women, so there were no surprises and no mystery for me. It all became rather boring.


"Something else I found difficult to cope with were the moods and depression which I believe were caused by taking the female hormone oestrogen.


"As a man, I was never depressed. If something bothered me, I would simply shrug it off and move on. As a woman, I felt as if I was on a rollercoaster of emotion.


"A disagreement with a boyfriend or friend would affect my mood for days."


The story of how a successful businessman and family man came to embark on this transsexual odyssey is as bizarre as it is remarkable.


Having studied engineering after he left school, he met and married his blonde wife, Trudi, and they had two children, a daughter now aged 23, and a son aged 22.


An ambitious alpha male, Sam (original name) landed a job heading the investment arm of a Saudi-owned company and launched an unsuccessful takeover bid for Sheffield United FC. He made millions developing property.


"Trudi was in my eyes the perfect woman, she was the love of my life, but I was a typical man who concentrated too much on my work and not enough on my family.


"I thought that if I gave her a nice house and she had plenty of money to spend at Harrods, she'd be happy, but she wasn't," says Charles who also admits he had a couple of affairs during his marriage.


"When she left me for another man, I was absolutely devastated and our split became acrimonious.


"I was prevented from seeing my children, which destroyed me. I'd been hugely successful building up a property portfolio, but at the time of our divorce the economy plunged and I lost a lot of money in the recession. I felt diminished as a man."


Charles now believes he suffered a complete mental breakdown, during which he started to question everything, including his sexuality.


As a teenager he'd had a crush on another boy and in his confusion he started going to gay and transvestite clubs, during which he came into contact with transsexuals.


"I went through a bit of a wild phase, experimenting. I'd always felt my sexuality was very fluid, even though I'd never been attracted to men when I was married to Trudi," says Charles, whose marriage collapsed in 1995.


"I met people at these transsexual clubs who'd kept saying how fantastic it was to be a woman, how great the sex was, how happy they were, and I started to wonder if I should become a transsexual, too.


"But I can see now that I wasn't really transsexual. A true transsexual is someone who is so determined to be a woman that they don't care if they look like an 18st trucker in drag. I just wanted be the perfect woman. I was acting out a fantasy."


It was through these transsexual clubs that Charles heard about Dr Russell Reid, and duly made an appointment in 1997.


"It was all so quick," says Charles. "We spoke about my fantasies of being a woman and he diagnosed gender dysphoria and gave me female hormones.


"I was brought up to trust doctors and being in a severely depressed and confused state I accepted the diagnosis without question."


Gender realignment guidelines, which are not legally binding, say patients should have been living in their gender role for at least three months before being prescribed hormones and should have at least 12 months of that treatment before surgery.Charles had his sex-change operation just six months after his first appointment with Dr Reid, and the day after a failed court battle to gain access to his children, who were then aged 12 and 13.Didn't he have doubts about such a drastic course of action?


"You have to understand I was on my own," says Charles. "I had lost my wife and my family. I had no one to talk to, no one to tell me I might be making a mistake. "I believe that all my actions stemmed from the acute psychological distress of not being able to see my children."
At the time, though, Charles was thrilled with his transformation into a woman.


Re-inventing herself as an interior designer, Samantha Kane became a huge success in her own right, mixing with the jet set, with whom she sipped champagne in the best hotels and bars in Cannes and Monte Carlo.Samantha became more depressed, but the main catalyst for her decision to live as a man again was ostensibly the collapse of her engagement to a wealthy British landowner, who was aware of her sex-change operation.


"Initially, he wasn't bothered that I'd once been a man, but the longer we were together, the more he mentioned it," says Charles. "He'd say things like 'so and so doesn't think like that because she's a real woman'. I realised I'd never be fully accepted as a woman."


But he reveals the real reason for undergoing such traumatic surgery to become a man again was the hope that it might reconcile him with his estranged children, who he hasn't seen for 13 years."I really hoped, more than anything, that if I turned myself back into a man they might agree to see me again," says Charles.


"After the operation, I put out feelers through extended family to see if they'd meet me, but I received a message back saying they'd rather leave things as they were. That was a terrible blow.


"So nothing has really turned out the way I hoped. Sometimes, it can be a very lonely existence. I thought going back to being a man would be the end of the story, but it's not. Becoming a man again has been much harder than I ever imagined.


"After what I've been through, I now think that sex-change operations shouldn't be allowed. They should be banned.


"We live today in a consumerist society where we all believe we can have everything we want, but too much choice can be a dangerous thing.'"


He laments the level of counselling he's received both times, but ultimately comes across as someone who is still as confused as ever about who he is and what he wants to be.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Transgenders scripting success in Tamil Nadu


Kalki is a highflying transgender IT professional. But her road to success wasn't easy. Her parents she says didn't accept her sexual orientation and forced her to take male hormone tablets. Away from home she was often a victim of sexual abuse. These factors only inspired her to dream big. Now the techie also runs a foundation for the betterment of transgenders.
''When you are successful people look up to you. When you are not its a totally different story,'' says Kalki. Rose is the country's first transgender television anchor and has won the hearts of millions. She was once thrown out of home. But that did not stop her from acquiring an international professional degree. Her new celebrity status she says is changing mindsets.
''That would never happen earlier in the past. People would not just talk to transgenders. But now they not only talk to me, they invite me home,'' says Rose.
In another part of Chennai Priya Babu has emerged to be a successful author. She wants to develop a resource centre for the third gender.
''Education is my biggest strength and also the tamilnadu government has given us so many opportunities,'' says Priya Babu.
Transgenders have begun to script success stories in Tamil Nadu. A majority of them are still pushed into prostitution but the more vocal ones in the community are spearheading a campaign to get a transgender nominated to the parliament, state assemblies and local bodies.
Found at NDTV.com

A beautiful story titled Paal







Kollywood will be witnessing a new genre of film. The transgenders seem to be setting foot almost everywhere from television anchoring to arts. This time, it's a new film starring a transgender heroine. The film is titled Paal also meaning gender in Tamil. It is the story of the neglected state of transgenders in the society today. The director of the movie Shivakumar to understand what it felt like to be a transgender has spent a full two months with them in Mumbai. The result of this two-month hunt was Karpaka, who has now been roped in as the heroine. 'Paal' will launch choreographer Kadhal Kadas as a hero and paired with him will be Karpaga.
Yet another interesting feature is that the assistant director of the movie is Living Smile Vidya, another transgender who rose to fame with her book, I am Vidya, recently. 'Paal' is based on the relationship between the lead pair and how Karpaga fears letting out her original identity to the man she loves and thus avoids him and his love. Karpaga plays the role of a short film maker. Whether she is accepted by the society she belongs to, and the man she loves, forms the climax. The shooting of this film is progressing well and slated for an August release.

Friday, September 5, 2008

The Second Most Beautiful Girl in New York

Looking for love but finding lust in the city of men
by Spencer Morgan

A while back, a friend of mine boasted that he was spending time with a hot transsexual. Now, my friend—let’s call him Ryan—is quite the ladies’ man. Despite his perplexing androgynous style—tight jeans, guy-liner, the occasional wig—Ryan always shows up with a gorgeous young woman on his arm.

Now he was dating a tranny, and talking about it as casually as if he’d recently begun incorporating onions in his scrambled eggs. He went on and on about how she was “totally fucking hot, man. Probably one of the hottest transsexuals in the world; it’s probably between her and some Thai boy.”

On a recent evening, I met the woman in question, the beautiful Jamie Clayton, at a bar in the Lower East Side. She is 5-foot-10, has long, wavy red hair, porcelain skin and big blue eyes. She sat upright in her stool, long bare legs draped on top of each other exposing upper reaches of thigh under a gray cloth miniskirt.

Now 30 and a makeup artist, she grew up as a boy in San Diego. Her father, Howard, who recently passed away, was a criminal defense attorney. Her mother, Shelley, is an event planner. Jamie always knew she was different. She used to stare at the hideous beast between her legs and wish it gone. She hardly ever touched it; never once out of pleasure.

I asked her if she was gay in high school.

“I guess,” she said. “I was gay by default. I was always just so feminine. I don’t think anyone who ever met me would describe me as a man.”

In junior high, she won the top awards for math and science, but the prospect of high school terrified her. She wound up at a magnet school for kids who’d been thrown out of other schools. She said that while her father might not have understood her, they got on well because she never got in trouble and brought home excellent grades. She wanted to be a makeup artist. Shortly after high school, it dawned on her that she should move to New York.

“I just woke up and something just clicked in my brain,” she said. “And I was like, ‘I need to be in New York; New York is fabulous.’”

It wasn’t until she got to New York that she realized a sex change was an option. She would go to Limelight and other kids would ask her if she had started taking hormones.
“I was like, ‘What’s that?!’ And that was that.”

The day she got health insurance, she began cold-calling doctors and asking them if they had experience working with transgender patients. No, no, no, no. Finally a doctor on the Upper West Side said yes. But it took another five years before she could save the money. All along she was taking the hormones.

“There was an almost instant calming effect that sort of like washed over me,” she said. “After being on them for a couple of months, they made me incredibly emotional at times. I’d find myself acting a little cuckoo, and then I’d realize, ‘Oh, my body’s sort of going through a change right now.’”

After a subtle boob job, Jamie was soon attracting the men she was looking for: What she would call straight men who have a taste for transsexuals and choose to ignore the extra baggage.
She met a photographer at a club; they dated for two and a half years. He said he loved her; they gave it a real go. He finally said he couldn’t deal. Now he’s married, has kids.

Then came a magazine writer. They had been dating a couple months, just having fun, so Jamie thought. Then one day out of nowhere:

“I’ll never forget it; I was 23 or 24,” she said. “I remember a very specific moment when we were literally in the middle of having sex and he asked me if I was in love with him. I had just broken up with [the photographer] shortly before, and I was like, ‘Why are you asking me that right now?’ And he said he knew that I liked him a lot, and that we got along really well, and he thought I was falling in love with him. So I said to him, ‘Are you in love with me?’ And his response was, ‘I can’t be in love with you.’ And I literally got up and put my clothes on and left and never spoke to him again.
“It was in that moment that I learned that I would never put myself in a situation, or that I would try incredibly hard to avoid situations where—because I thought that was really incredibly shitty for someone to say something like that: ‘Oh, I can’t be in love with you.’ Why? Because I’m different, because I’m a freak? Because your parents wouldn’t like it, because your friends wouldn’t like it? It hurt a lot. It sucked.”

April 16, 2003, is another day she’ll never forget. Dr. Toby Meltzer of Scottsdale, Ariz., is known across the globe as the man with the steady hand. A mere six hours on the operating table and Jamie was finally the woman she’d always wanted to be. For a cool $16,000, the good doctor had worked his magic, so that what’s left looks pretty good and works. She says she can even have vaginal orgasms. “Dr. Meltzer is known for that, and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to go to him. That’s why he’s so expensive,” she said.

Now she exercises four times a week, drinks an insane amount of water, washes her hair only twice a week, avoids the sun like the plague, always wears heels and plucks her full, caterpillarlike eyebrows twice weekly, but warns “don’t overpluck!” But she says men seem most attracted to her inner self-confidence. She says that her surgery, which with tweaking and touch-ups has cost her roughly $50,000, has gone a long way toward getting her to the place she’s in now.

“I love who I am,” she said, adding that she gets hit on or asked out about five times a week.
Professionally, she’s branching out into special-effects makeup: She recently worked on a team that created the blood and guts for indie flick Cottonmouth. In part, she says she has this fair city to thank.

“Transitioning in New York is like paradise,” she said. “Yes, you deal with bullshit. You deal with people making comments”—that’s called getting “spooked”—“but I can’t imagine living anywhere else going through what I went through. Because I’d say for every person that would make a nasty comment, there are 10 people that will tell you that you’re gorgeous and that they love you and that you’re fierce.”

Dating can be risky. She’s heard the horror stories, like the story about the transsexual who went back to a hotel room with a guy she met at a club and she didn’t tell him and was like, “Oh, I thought he knew,” and he pulled a gun on her.

Jamie always tells guys on the first date. “I was not born a woman,” is the line she’s settled on.
She’s noticed a funny thing since making her transformation. Because of her looks—she calls herself a “top-shelf” transsexual—she gets hit on by all sorts, not just tranny-chasers.
She has a type—she likes confident, sexy, creative guys. But she’s found that these men, more so even than the men she dated pre-op, are frequently unable to live up to the swaggering open-mindedness they claim to possess.

“If I have a connection with someone, I’d like to think that they’d be able to respect that connection enough and respect themselves enough to not care about my past—that they would want to see what happens between us,” she said. “But I have had plenty of instances where guys don’t even give it a chance, or maybe they do give it a bit of a chance, and then they sort of drop off the face of the earth because it freaks them out.”

She counts her nine-month fling with my friend Ryan as her most meaningful post-op relationship.

“We had chemistry right away. She was mysterious,” Ryan said. “Then a friend of a friend hipped me to what her situation was. And I thought, well, she was so hot that it didn’t deter me in the least. It excited me, it intrigued me. Mostly I thought, ‘Wow, I respect this person.’ Usually when you’re attracted to a girl, you don’t necessarily respect her. But when I found out that she had done that and gone through it, and looks amazing, I immediately thought, ‘Wow, this sounds like someone who’s really fucking cool and worth knowing, in addition to being really hot.’”

He noted that he falls into a certain category of New York guy. “I think it goes back to the 1970s, to David Bowie. It’s kind of like a glam kind of idea,” he said. “You have these artists that are these kind of sexy guys, but they’re really identified as straight. They tend to be artists or nightlife people who kind of flourish in the sexually ambiguous New York underground. Guys who wear guy-liner and tight clothing and are aesthetically minded. They hang out at parties like Trash and NC-17, which is the basement of Lit on Thursdays.”

Sexually speaking, he said, Jamie “rocked my world. She was just like any other hot chick, man.” For her part, Jamie said the relationship didn’t last because Ryan was emotionally unavailable. Ryan texted me the other night that these days he is “fucking a married cougar.”

One of the top beautiful transwomans in Hyderabad city





I want to share this wonderful story of a person who deserves eulogize….. This story has never been shared with anyone. For the first time I am putting my pen onto the paper after years just for that person to share this story with everyone out there. I wish I can shout aloud and say this story to every single person in this world.

Let me apprise you the story of an aspiring fashion designer (NIFT, Hyderabad) & actress, who wants to touch the sky with her success in her career. On a recent evening, I met the woman in question, the beautiful Mona Naidu. She is 5-foot-8, has long, wavy hair, porcelain skin and big beautiful eyes. She sat upright in her stool, long bare legs draped on top of each other exposing upper reaches of thigh under a gray cloth miniskirt.

Now in twenties and an aspiring actress, she grew up as a boy in town of Andhra Pradesh. Her father is a government employee. Her mother is a professional beautician. Mona always knew she was different. She used to stare at the hideous beast between her legs and wish it gone. She hardly ever touched it; never once out of pleasure.

Professionally, she’s branching out into fashion designing and acting: She is working in a south Indian movie with the best Indian director (she doesn’t want to speak about the name). In part, she says she has this fair city to thank.

Now she exercises four times a week, drinks an insane amount of water, washes her hair only twice a week, avoids the sun like the plague, always wears heels and plucks her eyebrows twice weekly. But she says men seem most attracted to her inner self-confidence.

Dating can be risky. She’s heard the horror stories. Mona always tells guys on the first date. “I was not born a woman,” is the line she’s settled on. She’s noticed a funny thing since making her transformation. Because of her looks—she calls herself a “top-shelf” transsexual—she gets hit on by all sorts, not just tranny-chasers. She has a type—she likes confident, sexy, creative guys. But she’s found that these men are frequently unable to live up to the swaggering open-mindedness they claim to possess.

“If I have a connection with someone, I’d like to think that they’d be able to respect that connection enough and respect themselves enough to not care about my past—that they would want to see what happens between us,” she said. “But I have had plenty of instances where guys don’t even give it a chance, or maybe they do give it a bit of a chance, and then they sort of drop off the face of the earth because it freaks them out.”

This is just a glimpse of herself from my point of view; very soon I will come back with a story of her own version from her inner shadows. I feel privileged to meet her and share her feelings which I aimed to put the best from what I understood from my conversations with Mona.

Transgender to play lead role in Tamil film

In Paal, Karpaga dons the role of an intellectual who is in love but faces a dilemma in revealing her identity to her lover. (TOI Photo)
CHENNAI: Young Karpaga, who makes her debut as a heroine in a Tamil film, is understandably nervous. She is busy rehearsing her lines and learning the nuances in the art of make-up, as the offer is not a passport to fame and wealth, but a lifetime opportunity to join the mainstream of the society.
Karpaga, the heroine of ‘Paal', is the first transgender in the country to don the leading role in a mainstream movie. "They have played lead roles in short films and documentaries earlier. But, this is the first time a transgender is featured as a heroine in a commercial film," says D Sivakumar, the film's director.
Barring a few exceptions, transsexuals have always been shown in poor light in Indian films. But the heroine of Paal is an intellectual, director of a short-film who is smitten by the love bug but facing a dilemma in revealing her identity to her lover. Besides exploring the emotional and physical conflicts, the film stresses on the need for families to accept transsexuals. Before the society and the government step in, it is parents, who should understand their feelings and protect them, says Sivakumar, who is confident that the low-budget (around Rs 80 lakh) movie will do well at the box office.
The hunt for a heroine took several months. A film crew visited Mumbai and Pune before finally zeroing in on Karpaga, who lives in Bangalore. Actor Revathi will play the role of Karpaga's mother in the film.
Born in a middle class family of Erode in western Tamil Nadu, Karpaga, who was then the only son to his parents, left home at 17 and headed for Mumbai. When he returned as Karpaga after five years, the family was shattered but eventually accepted her. "I was reluctant to accept the offer to act in the film. I was sceptical about the way transgenders are shown in films. It was only after the director told me the story and explained the positive aspects of the film that I agreed," recalls Karpaga.
Karpaga, who has taken a crash course in acting and is training to become a dancer, has offers from other film-makers. "I've a couple of offers to act as heroine and one as a villain," she says. "I'll take a decision after the release of