This article captures my felt sense of Hijras - the reverence, mysticism, fear, and discomfort of seeing a third gender growing up. Fast forward to now, and it's a good reminder that Transgender itself is an umbrella term and specificity when talking about and understanding a people is a way to care and learn.

These historical and mythical references play an important role in how the Hijra community is accepted and viewed in South Asia. While many look at Hijras with something of fear and reverence on special occasions like weddings or the birth of a male child, there is also a vein of transphobic and homophobic disgust that colors the way they are perceived on the streets. They are seen as being excessively loud and their looks derided for being overly dramatic. They are often in bright colors and makeup on the street, the exact opposite of the Western beauty standards of femininity; one that is quiet, demure and frail. This contradiction is both an embrace of self-love and also a staunch defiance in the face of neat binaries.

I linked to an article about Kerala and the history of topless women in an article previously, and it shares some context about the special place and meaning of a Saree. That it was shaped by British rule into a strictly feminine garment and that Hijras wear them as an open, loud sign of defiance is inspiring.

In South Asia, this self-expression through fashion becomes instrumental in demanding and claiming freedom and love (for the self and the other) by queer and trans communities, especially the Hijra community. Even as freedom to speech goes through various curtailments, fashion as a model of speech and expression continues historically writing and re-writing both dissent and celebration.