From Manjunath To Manjamma: The Inspiring Life of a Transgender Folk Artist is an honest account of B Manjamma Jogathi, her arduous journey of claiming her real identity and becoming a truly inspiring figure. The breezy read written by Harsha Bhatt, a journalist, and Manjamma, is also a roller coaster of emotions that starts with the chapter Padma Shri, a recognition that brought Manjamma to the national spotlight empowering many others like her. A chat with Manjamma who calls her life ‘paradigm of paradoxes’.
Your story needed to be told and celebrated. When was the idea of a book proposed and how did you want it to be?
Harsha Bhat proposed the idea to me when she met me as a journalist in New Delhi on the eve of the Padma Shri award ceremony. She met me for an interview and at the end of it when I said, “It’s my art and not activism that has me here today”, she said she would want to pen it as a biography which tells my story from this perspective.
How was the experience of collaborating with Harsha?
I narrated incidents of my life, my feelings, my thoughts, and my worldview to her and she wrote the book. We interacted over several months during which we not just relived the incident but also spoke of how I felt when things happened to me. She would record all of it and listen and then come back with more questions.
The book starts with the Padma Shri Award that made the entire country notice you. What was the idea behind putting an event that came much later in life as the introductory chapter?
To others, it may seem like an occasion that came later but for us, it is to a great extent a turning point which made me a known name across the country and even to people outside our country. It’s also to begin on a note of celebration and positivity than the usual way of telling the obvious — countless like me are born and perish but a folk artist like me getting a Padma makes history and what better note to begin with than this?
How was it reliving your past life with From Manjunath to Manjamma?
It’s just retelling it — all my experiences live within me every moment. Of course, it hurts to remember them, tears too have flown on countless occasions but it’s more of an emotional outburst and not feelings of bitterness or the like.
How challenging was it to fit in your three-four decade journey in a book of 160 odd pages?
The intensity of the stories shared is a powerful glimpse into my six-decade-long life. It’s not possible to tell or pen one’s whole life; what has been shared is a wonderful summation of my experiences, the choices I made, the path I chose and the consequences I had to face. It’s also an invitation for those who seek to know more to delve into it further. The constant effort was to be as honest as we could.
With the world becoming more inclusive do you think things have changed in India as well or it will still take time for us to treat the third gender with the same love and respect?
The Padma award did change a lot for my community and the change has begun. Of course, nothing transforms overnight but I have countless people from my own community who call me every other day and share how people now look at them differently or that they don’t face the same rebuke when spotted. It definitely has brought about or initiated a change for both transgenders especially in my community of Jogathis.
Apart from taking us through your life’s journey it also introduced us to the culture of the South. For instance, the Jogathi tradition gives a godly status to the third gender. Tell us something about that.
Jogathis are seen as bearers of the divine. They are trans women who submit themselves to Goddess Renuka Yellamma upon transformation and this is a cultural tradition followed in various parts of Karnataka, Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh and nearby areas. We sing and perform her legend with the Chowdaki and Shruthi for music and seek alms. People listen to us, watch us perform the tale of the Goddess they worship and see us as bearers of that same spirit as well as her messengers or the voice that seeks to share her life story.
And despite being under the care of a goddess, you still had to go through similar humiliations as transgenders face in other parts of India where there is no divinity attached. What do you think of this duality in human nature?
Duality is a norm — it’s not about transgenders alone. At least as far as being Jogathis is concerned; at least in the parts where we live, people always saw us with respect if we went about our lives as Jogathis. My family felt hurt and ostracised me initially no doubt, but the villagers and the people around embraced me as a bearer of the tradition. Eventually, even my family did accept when they saw me earn my living respectfully as an artist. That way we have both art and divinity guarding us from the travails that other trans communities go through. Incidents like rape that happened to me are a result of perversion of the human mind which knows neither humanity nor divinity.
What is the message that you want to convey through the book?
The book is an invitation to know our lives, our culture, our traditions and our world on one hand. On the other it is a saga of hope, the power of pursuit of art, of not giving up, of braving all odds to tell the tale.
