Trans, queer people in Kolkata | In search of safe spaces

“Please help! They are beating us up!” Sayon Sheikh, 26, had screamed over the phone to his colleague Koyel Ghosh when he and his colleague Ree were attacked in West Bengal’s capital Kolkata in February this year. He recalls Ghosh and another co-worker rushing to their rescue. That morning, Sheikh and Ree had gone to the grocery store just a few metres from the café where they work.

“We saw a woman jump the line at the checkout,” Sheikh remembers. When he objected, matters escalated. What followed, he says, was a “horrible memory” he can’t get out of his head. On the road, a mob of over 30 people allegedly gathered and circled them, taunting them with queer-phobic slurs. Then, all four say they were sexually harassed and beaten up. As a shy Sheikh gathers his thoughts, he is anxious and uncomfortable describing the manner in which the mob touched him and questioned his queer identity.

Sheikh and his colleagues work at Porshi, a café in Jodhpur Park, one of Kolkata’s most expensive neighbourhoods. It offers a safe space for trans and queer people to be among friends and is run by Sappho for Equality, one of the oldest queer-trans activist forums in the State. Ghosh is the organisation’s managing trustee.

Ghosh says they immediately called the Lake thana (police station), less than a kilometre away, but the police showed up only after they were assaulted. “Even when they arrived, rather than protecting us, they insisted that we get into the police van. We filed a complaint and an FIR was registered, but a counter FIR was filed against us two days later,” Ghosh says, adding that the police have made multiple visits to their café.

The police are unwilling to speak about the matter or comment on anything related to violence against trans people in the city. Yet, on April 15, during the observance of the 18th National Transgender Day, attended by activists, actors, and government officials, members of the police force were also present.

Ranjita Sinha, a trans woman activist, had said at the event, “West Bengal is still far behind in the transgender movement.”

As per the National Crime Records Bureau, just one crime was registered in 2022 under the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019 and it was reported in Tamil Nadu.

The act spells out specific offences committed against trans people that are punishable by law. These include denying a transgender person access to a public space; forcing a person to leave a place of residence, even a household; and harming, injuring, or endangering “the life, safety, health or well-being, whether mental or physical, of a transgender person…”.

The physical, sexual, verbal, emotional, and economic abuse against transgender people, which are all punishable by law, are embedded in society, say people who are trans-queer.

Ghosh, who has worked on trans-queer rights for over a decade, says the implementation of the law is “a major challenge” despite trans-queer people facing attacks and discrimination daily.

Holding together

Porshi, meaning neighbour in Bengali, is marked by a red gate amid the large houses of Jodhpur Park. A poster hangs at the entrance, calling it a “safe space”, welcoming members of trans and queer communities. There are few visitors from the neighbourhood though, say those who work at the café.

From vandalism to uncomfortable stares, the café’s employees and visitors say they have gone through varying degrees of aggression and assault. “When we started this café two years back, our neighbours had cut the cables to our lights right outside the café,” says Ghosh.

They point out that many queer-trans people are already abused at home; there is double the oppression when a part of their identity is Dalit-Adivasi-Bahujan; and another level of discrimination when they are economically stressed. “Demographically we are at the margins. The system has failed us both at home and at public places.”

Dr. Ranjita Biswas, a psychiatrist who offers free counselling sessions at Porshi and has been associated with Sappho for Equality for over 22 years, says repeated incidents of harassment and abuse have a long-term impact on people. Forced marriages and marital rapes result in a loss of self-confidence, she says.

“Natal families constantly shame them for their identity, which makes people think their very existence is wrong,” Dr. Biswas says, adding that there is also trauma from being isolated from regular social spaces like parks or movie halls.

Losing home, finding home

Shaan Sharma, 25, from a village in east Uttar Pradesh, says he was fired from his data entry job in Delhi when he transitioned. In distress, he went back home. Even though his family was accepting of his identity, relatives and society made their lives difficult, he says.

“I was asked to leave home, or my brother would not find a match to get married. My identity became a roadblock in his life,” says a nervous and emotional Sharma, who describes with anxious hand gestures how he was driven out of his home. “When I came back home after losing my job, some relatives came to stay. I was locked in a room for days, so that they did not see me. I was in jail in my own house,” he recalls.

Sharma found a few friends on social media, who told him about a safe house called Garima Greh in Kolkata. This has become his home for the past three months. The Garima Greh is one of 12 Central government-funded safe houses across India, established under the Support for Marginalised Individuals for Livelihood & Enterprise (SMILE) scheme. For a year, residents get skill-based training and a space to live.

From paying the rent to staff salary, Gokhale Road Bandhan, the non-profit that runs the home, is struggling to make ends meet. Mini Routh, the manager of the centre, which was started in 2021, says they are forced to cut corners to stay afloat. “I myself have not drawn a salary in the last year and a half. The residents also suffer from nutritional deficiencies because buying food is a struggle. We have to tie up with other NGOs to get our rations and give residents money to travel to their skill training classes,” she says.

Aggression and passive aggression

The home provides accommodation to over 20 trans people, who feel under constant threat. A poster hung outside the home has been torn. The residents say a neighbour ripped it in a fit of rage.

The residents tried to host a public Ardhanarishvara puja, dedicated to the Hindu deities Lord Shiva and his consort Parvati, during the Durga Puja festival last year. Across Kolkata, public celebrations are common during the festival. When people in the neighbourhood said they would not allow it, the residents of the Garima Greh secured permission from the police. However, the locals refused to budge and the festivities had to be moved to their backyard.

Routh, who is a cisgender woman, says multiple attempts at raising awareness in the locality have failed over the years as there remains severe resistance from people in the neighbourhood. When they were looking for a space to rent for the home, Routh would do the talking. But when homeowners found that this was going to be a space for trans people, they would back out.

Another challenge is keeping threatening relatives away from residents. Family members often track their location to the ‘safe houses’. Residents live in a constant state of anxiety, feeling unsafe even after leaving abusive families, they say.

While Sharma is training to be an accountant, his identity card still says “woman” and he wonders how he will secure work without the gender change on paper. To change the document though, he must go back to Uttar Pradesh, which makes him anxious about how his family members will receive him.

Sinha, who is also a leader at the Garima Greh in Kolkata, has been working with the community for the past 30 years. She says even though the world is becoming more progressive, the abuse against them is far from over.

“Hum log jayen toh kahan jayen? (Where do we go?)” she says with a sigh. She notes that most people outside of the LGBTQIA+ communities refer to trans people as hijras, who in the layperson’s lexicon are cross-dressing beggars. There is little understanding of the complexities of gender.

In 2014, in a landmark judgment, the Supreme Court had recognised the “third gender”, delinking it from biological considerations and saying those who self-identified as trans people had fundamental rights under the Constitution and international law. The apex court also directed State governments to frame policies to ensure this.

In March 2015, the West Bengal government had announced with much fanfare a Transgender Development Board under the State Department of Women and Child Development and Social Welfare. Sinha was part of the body and says it is currently non-functional. Shashi Panja, the Minister currently in charge of the department, could not be reached for comment.

Pockets of hope

It is karaoke night at the resto-bar, Tavern, where Anand Puri, the owner, has started a queer-friendly Thursday evening for those who identify as being from the LGBTQIA+ communities. Puri says he has trained his staff to be inclusive and conducted sensitisation drives to develop this safe space over the years. People can come without the stress of having to order a lot, he says.

“Slowly, we are getting to a place in society where being different is acceptable. We are a mainstream place helping open doors for every marginalised and unique identity to be themselves and feel safe,” he says, before approaching a group of trans people hanging out.

Finding such safe spaces connects people with one another. This ‘chosen family’ is often more trustworthy than the natal one.

At the Garima Greh, Sanaya Malik, a 22-year-old trans woman, has chosen the fashion designing skill training programme. “I want to have a tailoring shop and be my own boss. Given the way I look, my long hair and facial hair make it difficult for me to explain my identity in workplaces,” she says.

On May 9, members of the Garima Greh observed Rabindranath Tagore’s birth anniversary through the bard’s verses and philosophies that speak of a shared human experience, one that encourages plurality and openness.

shrabana.chatterjee@thehindu.co.in

Edited by Sunalini Mathew