Six decades in drag

Chapal Bhaduri, the last of the female impersonators on the Bengali stage, speaks to Gargi Gupta about his dramatic life, loves and chequered career

It's hard to reconcile the elderly man dressed in green kurta with the white sari-clad figure playing Rani Rasmoni in 'Pagla Thakur', a jatra (folk theatre form) on the life of 19th century mystic Ramkrishna Paramhansa performed last this month at the capital's India International Centre (IIC).

By daylight, and without make up, Chapal Bhaduri is almost nondescript, until he speaks and you're struck by his thin voice. By night – his face, and especially eyes, exaggerated in theatrical make-up – he is a significant presence and quite the star, in fact. For though Rani Rasmoni, as Ramkrishna's benefactor is only a supporting role in the jatra, Bhaduri is the only actor whose name and image appear in the play's poster.

Seeing him on stage it is clear what makes Bhaduri, or 'Chapal Rani', his female moniker, such a legend of the Bengali stage. For despite the fact that he's 78 years old, tired – he had come to New Delhi by train from Kolkata, reaching late that morning, and in such pain that he could scarcely stand for long, Bhaduri's charisma is unmistakable. Bhaduri is the last of the 'female impersonators' in Bengali theatre, a relic from those days when women did not appear on the jatra stage, leaving men dressed up as women to fill in those roles. And Bhaduri makes for a very convincing matriarch – fluttering his hands close to his ample breast, periodically flicking back his long hair and the anchal of his sari.

Bhaduri has, after all, been doing it for more than six decades now, having started out at the age of 12. The death of his mother, famous stage actress Prova Devi, necessitated that he drop out of school and earn a living. At one time, Bhaduri says with evident pride, young boys were so in love with him that they wrote pretty poems in his praise and stuck it up as posters around the city. "I was so good looking – in face and in body. In 'Razia Sultan', I wore a costume made of net and it seemed that I was naked," he recalls.

Sometime in the early 1970s, however, women began to appear on the jatra stage and Bhaduri's career nosedived. And so, from being one of the highest paid actors in jatra – "In 1964, I used to get a monthly salary of Rs 6,000" – he went to not having any work at all. And then, sometime in the 1990s, he began performing the Sitala pala, the ballad of Sitala, the goddess of pox. And that led to his second coming in the public eye.

For it was one such performance of Sitala pala that photographer and publisher Naveen Kishore saw and was fascinated. Kishore photographed Bhaduri, during and after the performance, documenting his transition from man to goddess; in 1999, he made a documentary on the subject – Performing the Goddess. It's an immersive, almost psychic experience, in Bhaduri's telling. "I usually wear the blouse first with the breasts and then put on make-up. Once that's done, I can sense a change in my psyche, and when I've worn my hair, I feel I've become a woman completely. From my waist down, I don't even think I am a man."

Kishore's documentary reawakened interest in Bhaduri at a time gender and queer issues were just beginning to be discussed publicly. Bhaduri began to get work again, especially roles that played on the gender fluidity of his persona. Among them was the play 'Ramanimohan' about a man like himself who played women on stage; it was the only time Bhaduri has played a male character. But the high point was 'Arekti Premer Golpo' (2010), a fictionalised biopic with director Rituporno Ghosh playing the young Bhaduri. The film, which tackled homosexuality explicitly and with empathy – Bhaduri's affair with a married male patron, which lasted 30 years, was an important track – made Bhaduri a household name. So much so that a leading Kolkata newspaper recently gave a lot of space to report that he had recently shifted into an old age home. Last year, he got the Banga Bhushan award of the West Bengal government.

But for all this fame and honour (and, finally, enough money to live comfortably) that have come his way for playing women, his feminine ways and homosexual relationships, Bhaduri has no desire to be a woman. "Many have asked why I do not live dressed as a woman. Just because I have feminine manner, a shrill voice, and I am beautiful? No – I am a man, and I make a living playing female parts in plays. That is my biggest credit. If I were to stay dressed up as a woman, I wouldn't get much attention."