A close encounter of the ‘third’ kind

LAHORE: Of all the disenfranchised elements in our society, there is perhaps none considered more toxic than the eunuch. Most of us reluctantly tolerate the beggars and amputees scouring the streets for loose change, but the stigma that surrounds the colourful eunuch is most visible in the fact that few ever look her in the eye.

At least that is what ‘Lado’, ‘Shireen’ and ‘Naji’ tell me in a chat outside the steps of Al Fatah. The boisterous trio kiss my head, fuss over my “kameez ka design” and begin squealing in surprise and horror when they find out that I am unmarried.

The theatricality and histrionics, they say, are part necessity and part amusement. “We are the biggest joke there is but people don’t laugh with us or at us,” says Naji. “They laugh behind our backs. So we make fun of ourselves and badger all these people in their fancy cars who don’t know how lucky they are simply to have been born whole.”

Being laughed at is a theme that comes up again and again in our conversation. “We will tell you whatever you want to know, but no pictures. We don’t want to be made fun of in a newspaper,” says Shireen, at 18 the youngest of the three but also the self-designated group leader.  Apart from public ridicule, the trio have lived through alienation from their families and repeated sexual harassment, but all three insist the worst thing about being a eunuch is that people are afraid of them. Their claim is substantiated by the revolted reactions of those who see me in their company. Shoppers stop to stare and point.

Lado seems to find this familiar reaction much more understandable than genuine curiosity. “How come you are willing to sit with us like this?” she asks. “Are you sure your head is screwed on right? You won’t go writing some weird nonsense about us will you?”

Eunuchs get very limited choice when it comes to making a living: beggar, prostitute or domestic servant.

“Have you ever seen a eunuch in your child’s school? Have you ever seen one at a reception desk or even as a waiter?” Lado asks.

They have tried all three jobs and find begging to be the best. “Once this Mem Sahib in a Prado asked me why I didn’t work for a living and I asked her if she would be willing to hire me. She left without a word,” Shireen says.

Not surprisingly, there is bitterness and anger beneath the surface. “We are angry at the Lord for making us so we don’t exist, neither man nor woman…neither here nor there,” Lado says.

None of them are fasting. “Who would we fast for? What has God done for us?” says Shireen.

Their outspokenness on the subject demonstrates that there is at least one upside to being a eunuch. “Our very existence is offensive to most people so they don’t really bother with what we say or do.

We can be open,” Shireen says. “People generally try to pretend we are invisible.”

It is an odd experience trying to get to know people outside of their stereotypes. Eunuchs are a truly remarkable group: flamboyant, courageous and politically incorrect to the nth degree in a society that thrives on boundaries and barricades. They say they often wish there was a place for them in “regular society”, but retract the wish a moment later.

“All these people in their big houses and cars do all the things that we do. They drink, dance and listen to music. They are garish and loud but they do it at fancy parties. We live on the fringes but we see the hypocrisy all around us. Maybe we are better off.

Published in The Express Tribune, September 11^th, 2010.