I am a Thirunangai. This word, this label, this identity, was hard fought for me. It took me nearly 20 years, from the time I first realised I was a transgender person, to come out and claim that identity.
Personal struggles and a fear, perhaps, of losing a certain ability to move freely in society as an able, the names I would be called... I grew up when transwomen were being called Ali, Pottai, Onpothu (9, in Tamil), among others. Not just insulting terms, these were sharp blades that could and did cut deep. It was all too common to negate the very humanness of transwomen. And then in 2008-2009, the Tamil Nadu government, then led by the DMK’s Dr Kalaignar Karunanidhi, popularised the term Thirunangai. A word sourced from the depths of that very Tamil epic Silapathikaram, first used as personal labels by — among other people — the dancer, activist, and Padma awardee Narthaki Nataraj, the theatre artist, activist and writer Living Smile Vidya. The DMK government took note, and Kalaignar made it a point that he, and all his circle use that word. By 2011-12, the word had taken firm root, so much so that my own father — not the most discrete of persons — referred to someone as a Thirunangai. Which gave me some confidence and two years later, I came out myself and spoke to my father. We tend to forget how important ID labels, words, terms and names are. They can grant personhood to someone. Or take it away. Rohith Vemula, in his last letter said, “The value of a man was reduced to his immediate identity and nearest possibility. To a vote. To a number. To a thing.”
Words can do more
These labels, these words, that is what they do to those on the margins of human society. They reduce a human being to nothing but their group identity.
But words can do more. They can elevate living breathing individuals, and the community benefits too, in the process. And that’s exactly what the glossary of Tamil LGBTQIA+ terms, curated by Queer Chennai Chronicles, The News Minute, Orinam, Sampoorna India, and several individual contributors does. It was put together in December last year bringing together various drafts and previous efforts to address discrimination and hate queer persons experienced in everyday language. The glossary brought Tamil words in common use by queer persons to describe themselves and their lives. It compiled words that respected queerness. And sought to remove stigma. Such as the umbrella word for transgender persons. The Tamil Trans community, as soon as the word for trans women — Thirunangai — was coined, doubled down and came up with Thirunambi — for trans men. And very soon after, Thirunar — to refer to the larger group of transgender, gender nonconforming, and non-binary persons. Meanwhile, terms to address intersex persons — not the most visible or vocal persons within the queer community — depended on outdated ideas of sex and gender, and biological essentialism. Words like idailingam — middle-sex (lingam as a term specifically refers to the masculine sex organ — the phallus) — had also uncomfortable connotations for many intersex persons. Thus, Oodupal, intersex. For those who worked on the glossary, recognition arrived in the form of an order by Justice N Anand Venkatesh, of the High Court of Madras.
Hearing a case relating to two queer women who sought to live together, the Justice noted that the media and larger society often belittled queer persons in word and action. He directed the government of Tamil Nadu to take steps to ensure dignity for all queer individuals. At a subsequent hearing, he noted that the Tamil Nadu government had indeed taken concrete steps by compiling a glossary of terms, but noted that the glossary compiled by QCC, TNM, Sampoorna, Orinam and others was more inclusive and more dignified, and further was compiled by queer persons themselves.
Points of divergence
The TN Government too, in its turn, took up this glossary for discussion. The department of social welfare constituted a small group which included trans women, gay men, and some other individuals, including a renowned Tamil poet, to debate the terms and confirm them. Discussions and arguments followed and an updated glossary was notified by the government in the gazette. Some of the words in the new glossary are a bit strange to me. Some I have serious problems with —
including the word for transgender persons. Gone is Thirunar that we’ve been using for about 8-10 years now. In its place is maruviya paalinam — changed gender persons. This is not as inclusive as it can be, and somehow retains a hierarchy of gender. As if transgender persons are somehow different from others. The term for gender fluid persons — which in the community-compiled glossary was termed Thirava nilai paalinam, has become Nilaiyatra paalinam or unstable gender persons.
The community will need to come together and talk to the government, the judiciary, the media on these and other points of divergence. And we will.
However, The TN government’s glossary is a big step forward. And perhaps fitting that the son of the man who gave us the word Thirunangai, is the current chief minister and it is his party in power. The glossary — going beyond who compiled it or which government actioned it — is an empowering, emboldening, step. It will do more to assert the personhood and dignity of a large community of people. And one, I hope, that the queer community in Karnataka take up in earnest.
Kannada and Tamil are sister languages. We are both members of the larger southern Dravidian language family. Kannada literature, poetry is equally diverse and open and, I am sure, filled with possibilities for my fellow queer citizens.
We must come together. And this Thirunangai is more than willing to be a part of that effort.
(Nadika is a writer and researcher with interests in history and archaeology, gender, internet and their intersections.)