Is what attracts gay men, especially gay men who do drag, a certain androgyny, a certain suggestion of masculinity about a woman, because that's exactly the sort of image they are likely to project.

--Vikram

This brings to mind an evening after watching Mahesh Dattani's gay-themed play 'Muggy Nights in Mumbai' with my earthy Sardar friend from Delhi and my westernised/urbanised friend from Bandra's Mount Mary parish. (If you'd also like a description of myself I'm half-earthy and half in-the-high).

Bandra couldn't understand the significance of the large poster in the lead player's house of : Meena Kumari. He didn't even know who she was. I informed him that all of us have our favourite actresses. I told him that I'd stopped noticing heroines after Rekha. He had a problem pronouncing Sardar's fave : Wa-hee-da Reh-man. I did suggest he make an easy start with Uma Thurman. 

Be that as it may, he may have graduated to Tabu (pronounced as Taboo; by him, that is), but I often wonder about this ardhnarishwar/androgyny bit : 

While I feel in touch with my feminine side (I have a most elegant sitting posture) and my masculine (I can turn a screwdriver) I cannot understand a friend's fascination for, say, Juhi Chawla's clothes or her make-up. I often have an inexplicable urge to join a farmhand in his activities. And I'm often exasperated by my urge to match the colours of my clothes.

So here's the tricky part : how much of me is masculine and how much is feminine. Which hue of the rainbow am I. Do I seek a similar hue in a partner, a complementary one or a directly opposite one? While we are all waiting to transcend this trans/non/too-many gendered existence ("of course I did bad things in an earlier life! I'm doing them in this one too") I am a little tired of walking alone into a matchless sunset.

Yearning for a return to the simple black-&-white era

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