Between
Silence and Exposure: Queer and Transgender Trauma in Aligarh and Nagarkirtan
Bidisha Biswas,
Assistant Professor, Stage II,
Muralidhar Girls’ College,
&
Ph.D. Research Scholar,
Amity Institute of English Studies and
Research,
Amity University, Kolkata, India.
&
Dr. Madhurima
Mukhopadhyay,
Assistant Professor, Stage III,
Amity Institute of English Studies and
Research,
Amity University, Kolkata, India.
Abstract: This
study critically examines how queer and transgender trauma is represented in
the two feature films, Aligarh
(2016) and Nagarkirtan (2019).
It is argued that both films portray queer and trans existence in terms of a
constant tug of war between the performances of identity roles that society
expects and the psychological strain of being marginalized. In Aligarh, the film shows the way in
which the private life of Dr. Siras is policed by the university, reinforcing
the argument that non-normative sexuality can only be represented in terms of
stigma, which in turn serves to alienate the individual further. In Nagarkirtan, the film focuses on the
body, or the lived experience, of a transgender individual, demonstrating how
the protagonist’s sense of self is constantly defined by the strain of being
socially violated, exploited, mocked, and alienated. According to Butler, queer
identity is a performance in terms of heteronormative frameworks (Butler 1990).
Still, according to Ilan Meyer’s Minority Stress Theory, queer and trans trauma
is a product of both external prejudice and internalized stigma, fear of
rejection, and discrimination (Meyer 2003). What both films demonstrate is that
queer and trans trauma is not a product of specific incidents, but is, in fact,
structurally created, or born out of the constant tussle between being seen or
being invisible. In short, the cinematic tales told in Aligarh and Nagarkirtan
are an important space in which to think about the emotional reality of queer
and trans precarity in contemporary India.
Keywords: Queer trauma; Transgender identity,
Performativity; Minority Stress; Indian Cinema; Aligarh; Nagarkirtan.
Introduction
The historical trajectory of queer and trans
identities in Indian cinema has moved from erasure and caricature to, more
recently, fragile visibility. The contemporary films, such as Aligarh (Hindi,
2016) and Nagarkirtan (Bangla, 2019), mark a critical shift that
is from visibility as a mere inclusion to visibility as a site of inclusion.
These films are more than simply “giving voice” to queer and trans individuals;
rather, they examine the fundamental criteria by which queer lives are recognised
and understood within hegemonic structures of recognition.
This paper argues that the queer and trans
trauma in these films must be read not as a singular catastrophic event like a
war or genocide. Trauma is seen as an ongoing process for these individuals who
strive to balance out a simple life for themselves, as Ann Cvetkovich opines
(Cvetkovich 2003). The films Aligarh and Nagarkirtan adopt a
narrative stance that is not a simple storytelling style; they treat trauma as
a serious subject to be discussed. Trauma is visible and felt as
the queer and trans are continuously controlled, and society tries to
discipline them. This paper posits that queer and trans subjectivity arises
from a confluence of the social norms working continuously to regulate
performances based on gender and induce vulnerability. The core of this
argument fundamentally rests on the amalgamation of Judith Butler's concepts of
performativity and precarity (Butler 1990; Butler 2004) with Ilan Meyer's
Minority Stress framework (Meyer 2003). By applying this theoretical framework
to Aligarh and Nagarkirtan, the study foregrounds how cinema as a
medium operates as a site where the politics of visibility intersect with the
violence inherent in the gaze and the impact of affective stress.
Marginalised identity and
the silence surrounding it
The films Aligarh (2016),
directed by Hansal Mehta, and Nagarkirtan (2019), directed by Kaushik
Ganguly, both argue that queer and trans identity of an individual is not
expressed freely; instead, it is regulated through performativity (Butler
1990). Through the theoretical lens of Judith Butler, both films exhibit contrasting
yet restrained modes of visibility. On the one hand, we have Dr. Shrinivas
Ramchandra Siras, whose sexuality was completely private, unknown to anyone at
his University until it was exposed through a sting operation conducted over
him. Dr. Siras’s sexuality became public and legible due to the forced
systematic surveillance, which can be regarded as a forced visibility. The
audience gets to peek into the restrained, isolated life of Dr. Siras, whose
invisible gender performance suggests his everyday struggle to negotiate with
the heteronormative norms. Puti, in Nagarkirtan, was highly visible in
her overt femininity. Her femininity
placed her under constant scrutiny as it challenged the societal norms. Despite
the differences, the performances of both characters, Dr. Siras and Puti, are
restricted, suggesting that societal structures interfere with queer identity.
Visibility, in a way, acts as a curse as it does not lead to acceptance of
their sexuality by society. Instead, it provides a way for society to control
and even discipline individuals (Butler 2004).
Aligarh and the dynamics of
silence and exposure
Ilan Meyer’s Minority
Stress Model Theory renders another crucial theoretical framework for our
better understanding of how gender deviants experience chronic psychological
stress not due to their identities but for internalised homophobia or
transphobia (Meyer 2003). According to Meyer, stress functions on three levels:
distal stressor, proximal stressor, and internalised stigma. When these two films
are examined through the lens of this theory, they emerge as narratives of
repeated negotiations and endurance. The film Aligarh (2016), directed
by Hansal Mehta, can be considered a foundational text for understanding the
Minority Stress Model. Though the film
is built on a singular event when Dr. Siras was exposed during his intimate
moment with his partner during a sting operation, it exposes the everyday
trauma (Cvetkovich 2003). This violation of his privacy was non-consensual,
which resulted in stress that was not interpersonal but structural in
nature. His stress escalated as he was
forced to resign from his university and give up the quarter provided by the
Aligarh Muslim University. The scene after his resignation is very much vital
for understanding the depth of his suffering. Returning to the quarter room
after being suspended for bearing a homosexual identity, Dr. Siras sits down
with a glass of whisky, listening to the songs of Lata Mangeshkar on an old
radio. He finds solace by playing the songs “ Aap Ki Nazron Ne Samjha" and
“Betaab Dil Ki Tamanna Yahi Hai" in the very intense atmosphere of
profound grief and loneliness. The intensity of his loneliness and emotional
strain is captured through silence, a scene where there are no dialogues but
facial expressions that capture the subtle emotional shifts. The whiskey here is not drunk as a
celebratory drink, but it acts as a numbing agent to calm his traumatised self
after his dismissal from his professional world. Dr. Siras’s suspension was not
only a simple loss of a job but an attack on his identity (Meyer 2003). Deepak
Sebastian, a young journalist, meets him to present his side of the story as a
victim. In this very process, Deepak gradually becomes a friend with whom he
shares his thoughts and feelings without feeling discriminated. In this film,
there is another scene where Dr. Siras shares his daily ritual of sipping
whisky and listening to Lata Mangeshkar’s songs with his journalist friend,
Deepak, which offers a glimpse of his battle with loneliness as an everyday
routine. This scene speaks loudly about his psychological exhaustion caused by
the events that followed the exposure of his sexual identity. Another intense
scene from the film is the press conference scene, where he faces questions
regarding his personal life, which captures the queer trauma inflicted on him.
Dr. Siras’s psychological and social isolation is visualized through cinematic
shots and frames where he is seen completely alone against a large, empty
background. It further emphasizes Dr. Siras’s present situation, he is
abandoned by his colleagues and his university, and is pushed out of his haven
to endure embarrassment as he was repeatedly asked about his personal life and,
most importantly, his sexual choices. Here, we see a man sitting against a wall
of cameras and several microphones, all to answer their questions; however, it
highlights the helplessness of a single individual who is facing the wrath and
judgment of the public.
When read from Butler’s
perspective, the forceful exposure of Siras’s private life acts as an extreme
disciplinary act to remind the individual of heteronormativity as the norm
(Butler 1990). His same - sex relation is not considered a legitimate identity
but a deviance that deserves harsh institutional and systematic punishment,
like his suspension and eviction from his quarters with a few days’ notice. The
university acts as a distal stressor that continuously regulates the lives of
its faculty members through constant surveillance and suspension, only to
maintain a public image. The film has employed minimalistic aesthetics, long
silences, and spatial isolation to convey Siras’s deep, silent withdrawal and
emotional detachment. Siras’s university provided a quarter, which was the
place that gave him peace, but it was also a site of his intense isolation.
While this quarter offered shelter from the judgmental scrutiny aimed at his
homosexuality, it simultaneously functioned as a precarious prison, constantly
vulnerable to intrusion. This highlights the precarious nature of queer
identity as a place provided psychological shield against the heteronormative
society.
Siras’s profound experiences at the
university, trial rooms, and even at a medical clinic affected him so much
that, according to Ilan Meyer’s Minority Stress Theory, the distal stressors
(discrimination and humiliation) lead to the proximal stressors in the form of
isolation, anxiety of being exposed further. In the film, Aligarh (2016),
Siras is seen silent most of the time during the ordeal as a choice. It was his
defence mechanism that made him bear everything silently, as he was scared of
being further exposed, which would result in complete social rejection and loss
of livelihood. The silences and the stillness convey the trauma that Siras was
experiencing every day. Siras’s death is
off-screen, intensely portraying the idea that his death might be a singular,
tragic event, but it is a reminder to the audience that this is the outcome of
the social rejection and marginalisation that were repetitive, resulting in
psychological stress.
Nagarkirtan and the dynamics of
silence and exposure
Kaushik Ganguly Nagarkirtan (2019) is
a narrative of a trans woman, Puti, who is seen grappling with the challenges
of identity, struggle for survival, and love in a strictly heteronormative
society. This film narrates the true experiences of gender nonconformity and
the brutality that one faces. As the English subtitle, The Eunuch and the
Flute Player, suggests, this film explores and highlights the almost
invisible and unrecognized section of the transgender, the eunuch or the Hijra,
in their common and everyday existence. This film, in a way, critiques the
traditional society that denies transgender individuals their various basic
rights and dignities, economic opportunities, and mental and emotional
well-being. They have no social acceptance and recognition of their physical
and emotional needs which are necessary for human survival. The film is a
critical text for understanding Butler’s theory of performativity because
Puti’s excessive visible gender identity contests the social performances
(Butler 1990). Puti’s femininity is overtly expressed through behaviour,
dressing, and most importantly, self-acknowledgement, and this puts Puti under
repeated scrutiny and later social rejection.
While the sting operation on Dr. Siras led to his dismissal from his
job, Puti is denied a job due to her identity as a trans woman. She is seen
begging at the traffic signals on the streets. And this exposes her to constant
patrolling that Puti endures. Puti is exposed to the rigid social mechanisms
that aim to control, categorise, and suppress when needed if they fail to be in
the binary (Cvetkovich 2003).
Puti’s trans identity is not internal but
highly visible, making her body a site of violence and control, which
ultimately leads to minority stress. Puti’s life is an interesting case where
she is subjected to distal stressors in the form of economic discrimination and
marginalisation for her trans identity.
Constant humiliation and social rejection cause Puti to become extremely
cautious about her surroundings and herself. For Puti, trauma is not
internalized; it is visible externally and is inscribed on her body, making her
suffering overt (Meyer 2003). Puti suffers from unemployment and is seen in
constant search for a proper shelter. The family where Puti was born as
Parimal, becomes the very site of trauma as she faces rejection at the hands of
her father and then her lover. Both of the men in her early life abandoned him
and chose to conform to heteronormative norms of society. She occupies streets,
trains, and temporary shelter in a group of ghettos in Maniktala, symbolising
her social displacement.
Puti’s life starts to change after she meets
Madhu, who becomes the new tenant in the house of her guruma. Puti’s relation
with Madhu, a flute player, gives her the strength to think about her desires
and wishes. When they meet Manabi Bandyopadhyay, Madhu speaks on her behalf, as
she is too scared to express her wishes to the outside world. The relationship
with Madhu was the only place that gave her the security and the much-needed
genuine affection she needed for her emotional well-being. Puti, who decided to end her life, was forced
by the external stressors that came in the form of humiliation at the hands of
a group of eunuchs, the public, and the police, leading to internalized
transphobia and a fear of further rejection and marginalization. Puti’s death,
physically presented on screen, completes the image of a vulnerable self that
at last succumbed to everyday trauma. The ending of Puti’s life shows the rigid
transphobic norms of society that failed to understand the emotional breakdown
that Puti was going through after the incident. Queer trauma is depicted as a
result of personal and systemic failures in this case.
Conclusion
In both the films, Aligarh (2016) and
Nagarkirtan (2019), queer trauma and trauma of the transgenders is
beautifully projected through the sufferings of the characters. While Dr. Siras
is traumatised due to the violent intrusion into his private life, leading to a
constant public gaze, Puti is visible due to her trans identity. Due to this
extreme visibility, Puti is subjected to constant violence, ridicule, and
marginalization. In both narratives, trauma is structurally produced, and it is
endured only for a short time. This paper employed the theoretical frameworks
of Judith Butler (Butler 1990) and Ilan Meyer (Meyer 2003)to understand how
queer/trans/marginalised individuals live under constant fear of being exposed
and rejected. Both projected trauma as an everyday event to highlight the
precarious condition under which queer individuals live and negotiate to
survive daily (Cvetkovich 2003).
Works Cited
Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion
of Identity. Routledge, 1990.
---. Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence. Verso, 2004.
Cvetkovich, Ann. An Archive of Feelings: Trauma, Sexuality,
and Lesbian Public Cultures. Duke University Press, 2003.
Meyer, Ilan H.
“Prejudice, Social Stress, and Mental Health in Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual
Populations: Conceptual Issues and Research Evidence.” Psychological Bulletin, vol. 129, no. 5, 2003, pp. 674–697.
Mandal, Bikash Chandra,
and Brintika Das. “Revisiting Nagarkirtan (2017) and Addressing the Hijra
(Transgender/Third Gender) Community in the Indian Context.” Dialog, no. 36, Autumn 2020, pp. 1–13.
Aligarh. Directed by Hansal Mehta, starring Manoj Bajpayee, Eros International,
2016.
Nagarkirtan. Directed by Kaushik Ganguly, starring Riddhi Sen, 2019.