Gender in Mahesh Dattani’s Seven Steps Around the Fire

Dattani’s plays, as we can see, are set in the context of the family. For the upper middle class, the family is the most important institution and the primary concern is maintaining this family and the many relationships within it. The family as an institution has certain structures and norms which are accepted as realities by its members, and the individual is expected to operate within it. Certain values are upheld and certain types of behaviour expected and enforced. Society creates and constructs the self for its members who in turn fall in line and conform. This constructed self is always in opposition to the real self of characters. The real self is masked behind the veneer of respectability, refinement and progressive thoughts resulting in inconsistency in behaviour and hypocrisy in action. Years of such social conditioning makes people complacent. Dattani uses theatre to pierce through this complacency and to show people their prejudices leading them to a critical self analysis. He traces the roots of the conflicts in families to the suppressing of natural urges and desires. He shows how men and women suffer as they struggle to break free of the traps in which they are caught.

Indian English literature has been quite sensitive to the issues of marginal existence. However, with the plays of Mahesh Dattani, tabooed subjects like lesbianism, homosexuality and transgender came into focus in the mid 1980s. Dattani has dealt with subjects that were put in the cupboard by earlier Indian English writers. His plays, henceforth, often feature characters who are questioning their identity and who feel isolated in the society in some way or the other. By focusing on the lives of women, homosexuals, transgender characters, handicapped people, etc. , Dattani brings to centre-stage topics and themes which were taboo until then. Such issues do exist but are dismissed as ‘non-issues’ unworthy of dramatisation and often pushed to the periphery where they remain latent and suppressed.

In his plays On a Muggy Night in Mumbai, Do the Needful and Bravely Fought the Queen, Dattani explores the theme of homosexuality. In his radio play Seven Steps Around the Fire, Dattani has taken up that marginal section of our society to whom both nature and society have been cruel – the eunuchs. People like this happen to be around in our society just like all the other so called ‘normal’ people, but they are always on the fringes and ‘invisible’. By bringing them to the centre and writing about them, Dattani tells people that these marginalised people too exist and are very much a part of society; they too have their lives, desires and struggles. So basically, Dattani is trying to expose the trauma that these people face in their lives and hence he daringly attempts to give them a voice. Replying to a question about whether he espouses the ‘cause’ of these ‘marginalised’ people, Dattani says that he sees the characters as a “metaphor for the unspoken and unexpressed within all of us” (Das 177).

Seven Steps Around the Fire (1999) is a radio play focusing on a ‘fringe’ issue – the existence of the hijras. This group of “third gender” people is generally swept aside by the mainstream society that prefers to believe that they do not exist at all. The play is a “whodunit”, as Dattani says in one of his many interviews, and Dattani is probably the first playwright who has written a full length play about them. It was broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on 9 January, 1999 and was first performed on stage at Museum Theatre, Chennai, by MTC Production & The Madras Players on 6 August, 1999. This paper is a study of the trauma that is experienced by this invisible “third gender” community called the hijras. It examines of how in this play, the playwright dwells on the theme of eunuchs, their identity, their constitution and their connotation. The study reveals the identity crisis of the hijras and their heartfelt longing for being treated as a social being in an indifferent society.

Hijras are physiological males who have feminine gender identity but adopt feminine gender roles and wear women’s clothing. The word ‘hijra’ is a Hindustani word, derived from the Arabic root ‘hjr’ in its sense of "leaving one's tribe”. The Indian usage has traditionally been translated into English as "eunuch" or "hermaphrodite". In South Asia, many hijras live in well-defined, organized, all-hijra communities, led by a guru. These communities have sustained themselves over generations by "adopting" young boys who are rejected by, or flee their family of origin. Many get their income from performing at ceremonies, begging, or sex work. As with transgender people in most of the world, they face extreme discrimination in health, housing, education, employment, immigration, law, and any bureaucracy that is unable to place them into male or female gender categories. Violence against hijras, especially hijra sex workers, is often brutal, and occurs in public spaces, police stations, prisons, and their homes. Hijras are often encountered on streets, trains, and other public places demanding money from people. If refused, the hijra may attempt to embarrass the man into giving money, using obscene gestures, profane language, and even sexual advances. In India it includes, for example, threatening to open their private parts in front of the man if he does not donate something.

Denied legal and social justice, hijras take on a magical persona that inspires fear and sometimes respect from mainstream society. Hijras perform religious ceremonies at weddings and at the birth of male babies, involving music, singing, and sexually suggestive dancing. These are intended to bring good luck and fertility. Although hijras are most often uninvited, the host usually pays the hijras a fee. Many fear the hijras' curse if they are not appeased, bringing bad luck or infertility, but for the fee they receive, they can bless goodwill and fortune on to the newly born. Hijras are said to be able to do this because, since they do not engage in sexual activities, they accumulate their sexual energy which they can use to either bestow a boon or a bane.

Since the late 20th century, some hijra activists and Western non-government organizations (NGOs) have been lobbying for official recognition of the hijra as a kind of "third sex" or "third gender," as neither man nor woman. The governments of both India (1994) and Pakistan (2009) have recognized hijras as a "third sex," thus granting them the basic civil rights of every citizen. In India, hijras now have the option to identify as a eunuch ("E") on passports and on certain government documents.

In this play Seven Steps Around the Fire, Dattani uses a scholar-sleuth to rip off the veneer over the hijra community. He uses Uma Rao, who has multiple identities; identities that are all firmly tethered to the mainstream society. She is the daughter of the Vice Chancellor of Bangalore University, the wife of the Superintendent of Police, the daughter-in-law of the Deputy Commissioner of Police and a lecturer of Sociology who is doing a research on class and gender generated violence. Still she moves beyond the ‘safe’ boundaries to negotiate with the hijra community. She enters the shrouded world of the hijras and creates a link between their lives and the lives of those in high society.

The title of the play itself is significant. An Indian audience can understand its reference to marriage and realise the significance of the chanting of the marriage mantras, the sounds of the fire that prevails throughout the play. However for an English audience, the problem would be to understand this cultural context. Being a great theatre craftsman, Dattani uses different techniques including the voice-over to make his play forceful and appealing. Doubts and myths regarding hijras and their social position are cleared in the voice-over of Uma that comes right at the beginning of the play: Case 7. A brief note on the popular myths on the origin of the hijras will be in order, before looking at the class-gender-based power implications. The term hijra, of course, is of Urdu origin, a combination of Hindi, Persian and Arabic, literally meaning ‘neither male nor female’. Another legend traces their history to the Ramayana. The legend has it that god Rama was going to cross the river and go into exile in the forest. All the people of the city wanted to follow him. He said, ‘Men and women, turn back. ’ Some of his male followers did not know what to do. They could not disobey him. So they sacrificed their masculinity, to become neither men nor women, and followed him to the forest. Rama was pleased with their devotion and blessed them. There are transsexuals all over the world, and India is no exception. The purpose of this case study is to show their positions in society. Perceived as the lowest of the lows, they yearn for family and love. The two events in mainstream Hindu culture where their presence is acceptable – marriage and birth – ironically are the very same privileges denied to them by man and nature. Not for them the seven rounds witnessed by the fire god, eternally binding man and woman in matrimony, or the blessings of ‘May you be the mother of a hundred sons’. (10-11)

This play revolves around an upper middle-class boy’s relation with a eunuch Kamla and the reaction of the society to this. The plot is on the lines of a detective story as the main plot deals with the investigation of the murder case of Kamla whose “body was found by some passer-by, after four days. The temple priest complained about the stench. It was thrown into the pond after being burned. ” (17) The investigating police officer is none other than Uma Rao’s husband Suresh Rao who admits that they arrested Anarkali, another eunuch, “because there was no one else. There is no real proof against her. It could be any one of them. ” (33) As there are no separate prisons for the hijras, Anarkali is put in the male cell where she is physically, mentally, verbally and sexually abused. They are tortured not only by the police officers but also by the inmates of the jail at the command of Munswamy, “Back! Beat it! Kick the hijra!” (9) They are treated like non-living things and are given the pronoun ‘it/its’ by characters like Munswamy, the constable, who has a strong grudge against them, “(Chuckling) She! Of course it will talk to you. We beat it up if it does not. Even Suresh, the Superintendent of Police, refers to Anarkali as ‘it’: “Don’t believe a word of anything it says. They are all liars. ” (9) Conversely the protagonist, Uma, behaves sisterly with them and used the words ‘she/her’ to address them.

Through Champa, the head hijra who lives behind Russel Market in Shivajinagar, Uma bails Anarkali who is helpless but wants to tell the truth, “They will kill me also if I tell the truth. If I don’t tell the truth, I will die in jail. ” (14) As Uma proceeds with her investigation, the suspicion of murder shifts from Anarkali to Champa, from her to Salim, his wife and then to Mr. Sharma, the government minister. It is only towards the end of the play that Uma as well as the audience comes to realise that it is Subbu, the son of Mr. Sharma, and not Salim who had a relationship with Kamla: Would you have believed me? Anyway, what is the use of all that? What does it matter who killed Kamla? She is dead. . . So many times I warned her. First I thought Salim was taking her for his own pleasure. When she told me about Subbu, madam, I tried to stop her. I fought with her. I scratched her face, hoping she will become ugly and Subbu will forget her. He wanted to marry her. . . I was there at their wedding. . . She gave me that picture to show to Champa. I saw the men coming for her. I told her to run. . . (41)

Thus as Uma embarks on the journey to discover the truth behind this murder, she is horrified to expose the hypocrisy and repression that ‘the big shots’ are capable of because they are beyond the reach of law. Though the truth is brought out before the authorities on Sibbu’s wedding day when he kills himself out of his sincere love for Kamla, everything is sworn to secrecy. Uma’s voice over reveals the social setup that extends no compassion and gives no voice to the people who are a part of the society: They knew. Anarkali, Champa and all the hijra people knew who was behind the killing of Kamla. They have no voice. The case was hushed up and was not even reported in the newspapers. Champa was right. The police made no arrests. Subbu’s suicide was written off as an accident. The photograph was destroyed. So were the lives of two young people. . . (42)

Finally, if Mr. Sharma meets his nemesis for killing Kamla, it is not through law of the land but at the hands of his own son who commits suicide and denies him the satisfaction of seeing him suitably married and placed “on the right path” (37) Subbu doted on Kamla and was miserable after Kamla’s death. He has unwillingly agreed to the marriage arranged by his father but when the hijras start singing and dancing on the occasion of his marriage, he loses his mental balance. He takes up a revolver and shoots himself which in fact declares his true love for Kamla, the hijra.

Dattani, the excellent theatre man, has succeeded in creating the language and rhythm of hijras. He has taken words and dialogues directly from the hijra vocabulary: Anarkali. We make our relations with our eyes. With our love. I look at him, he looks at me, and he is my brother. I look at you, you look at me, and we are mother and daughter. Oh, brother, give me a cigarette, na. Munswamy. Shut up. And don’t call me brother. Anarkali. Just one, na. (Very sexual. ) I will do anything for you, brother. Give, na. (11) Also, since it is a radio play, Dattani uses Uma to give further information about the hijras; she says of how hijras “only come in groups and make their presence felt by their peculiar loud hand clap. ” (22) The music accompanying the hijra songs and the clapping of the hands is typical, and Dattani’s success lies in manipulating the sounds at the right instance.

The play, thus, highlights certain hidden yet real aspects of contemporary upper middle-class society’s ambivalent attitude to a transgender character. It beautifully deals with the pathetic plight of the hijras, their ways of life, their ardent sense of individual identity in a callous and cruel atmosphere where a minister had the young hijra burned to death. Dattani is hence exposing the stark reality of the socio-cultural ethos in the contemporary world, uncovering the problems of gender identity of hijra community, their sexual exploitation and social isolation. The ‘hijras’ are considered to be an indispensable part of Indian rituals from birth to marriage; their presence on such occasions is considered auspicious. However, they are cruelly rejected and even eliminated from society if they dared to break free of the social structures that controlled them. In this play, hijras, who have always been objects of ridicule, are sympathetically portrayed by the playwright.

One cannot deny the reality of the world that Dattani presents. It stares you in the face, making you involuntarily flinch in each of the plays; it is a reality you may not wish to encounter. Dattani, it should be accepted, is an emergent voice on the stage that commands attention and must be heard; for they relate to lived traumatic experience which, no matter how sordid or unpleasant or hard to accept, is still real and human. In Uma, we can see Dattani sketching the prototype of his female identity – plucky, courageous, unafraid to undertake risks and working from within the establishment, undeterred by its limitations or boundaries. She, as the mouthpiece of this socially conscious playwright, fights to establish the identity of the eunuch. She dares to give visibility to the unseen, invisible and even unspoken existence of such identities.