“Do you want to become a Sabzal Samagi?” my father shouted before attempting to burn my poetry books. I understood his frustration as he wanted me to focus on my textbooks, but why on the earth he thought I wanted to become Samagi, who had nothing to do with poetry.
Samagi is a Balochi singer, long out of business. When my father was young, Samagi was the most popular singer, at least in Makran. With his dark complexion and African hair, he was chased by girls like a rockstar. Despite belonging to the lowest class in the Baloch tribal system, he married a girl from a royal tribe.
A wedding ceremony without a performance by him attracted little guests. His performances were unique. He was accompanied by transgender dancers. They danced and flirted with the guests as Samagi sang.
When my father was young, almost thirty years back, he travelled five miles on a dirt road on a borrowed motorbike to attend a wedding ceremony. He was not invited. You didn’t need an invitation to a wedding where Samagi was performing with his dancers, who were dressed like women.