It is getting a bit on the wrong side of etiquette, with bored young queens throwing all caution to the wind. As the hours tick lazily by at a late-night ball, first comes the loud music, then the lewd gestures. And then, some stunning dance moves from androgynous boys whose only claim to fame are monikers borrowed from Lollywood sirens.
But then Khushboo, the host, makes a dramatic appearance, and a hush descends over the hall. The lights are suddenly turned down. An audible collective gasp (whether of shock or admiration, you cannot tell) hangs over the audience as Khushboo, decked in drag, walks in like a vision – a skimpy Madhuri Dixit choli and ghagra, with heavy jewellery and tonnes of make-up.
Peshawar is not a comfortable setting for a gay bash, particularly with the growing Talibanisation of NWFP. But determined souls nonetheless will always find ways to have fun. Khushboo, 27, has gotten the seven-year itch, and he is now back in his hometown to celebrate. After seven years in New York and a marriage that turned sour, he has tied the proverbial knot yet again. And, come rain or a hail of religious vigilantes, Khushboo, the enduring drag queen, is determined to turn tonight into a night to remember.
His friends, a lively gaggle of twenty-somethings and aging androgynous men, flock to him like workers around a queen bee. In a manner that belies many rehearsed moments before many a show, he intones in flawless English, with theatrical pretence to nervousness: "For seven long years I have dreamt of this moment, to be here with my friends. Of course, I do this on a large scale in New York, but I am happy to perform for my friends tonight."