CAN'T STOP, WON'T STOP

How two dope queens and one hotel impresario are dragging India into the 21st century

- Kerry Harwin

On the roof of Bengaluru’s LaLit Ashok hotel, at the Kitty Ko lounge, all six feet of Maya are draped in a red jumpsuit, long ropes of what probably aren’t pearls hanging in strands that shake to the swing of her hips.

Those hips are swinging to the synthesised disco beat of “Main Haseena Ghazab Ki”, from the 1988 Rekha comeback vehicle Khoon Bhari Maang. It is A Night Of 1,000 Rekhas, another instalment of Maya the Drag Queen’s weekly show at Kitty Ko. Opposite her, in a cream jumpsuit, Betta Naan Stop, one of Maya’s “drag daughters”, shakes her head and crosses her arms, eagerly playing the antagonist.

The jumpsuits have been lifted straight from the film, and while the dance moves are inspired by their source material, Rekha’s routine seems too constrained for Maya, who throws her arms wide as her heavily lipsticked mouth lip-syncs to Asha Bhosle. As she struts offstage, Prathik, a young, lithe and shirtless male dancer, is astride Betta Naan Stop, arms held firmly as if at the height of a push-up. Betta, below, pulls herself up and down, thrusting in a choreographed pantomime of acts deemed “unnatural”, and therefore forbidden, by Indian courts.

The dance floor is small, but packed. Whistles and cheers shoot up from the crowd, few and far between at first, but rising to a steady hum as glasses are emptied on this warm March Bengaluru night. When 10pm hits and the outdoor music ban kicks in, the party moves inside and the DJ plays an ill-advised blend of Bollywood and Bryan Adams. Maya stays outside, standing in the wings of the stage, greeting admirers and surveying the scene of another success.