"I have always believed performance is not just about entertainment — it is about disruption," Drag artist-activist Patruni Sastry says. "It is about taking a space and filling it with something so undeniable that people have no choice but to confront it. Performance art has that power. It is not like theatre where there is a clear script and where an audience that expects a beginning, middle, and end. It is not even like drag, though drag, in many ways, is performance art too."
"Performance art is raw, immediate, and often uncomfortable. It breaks the line between performer and spectator. It makes people question what they are looking at, what they are feeling, and why they are reacting the way they do. It is not about applause. It is about awakening."Patruni Sastry
Earlier this year, Sastry — who goes by the stagename SAS — was experiencing a crisis of faith and self-doubt about their Drag artistry. They were at a fork in their path: they could either keep performing at parties and clubs where the audience was in no space to ponder and reflect on their ideas of change; or they could be true to themself and perform for their soul.
This inner struggle coincided with a series of global events which incited a sense of urgency within Sastry. The post-pandemic years have been among the worst for trans and queer rights in recent decades — with Donald Trump's return to presidency and an onslaught of anti-trans and anti-queer state and federal legislation, the ever-groeinh transphobic trans-exclusionary radical feminism (or TERF) movement in the UK, and the Supreme Court's refusal to allow same-sex marriage in India, among other similar trans and queer-phobic developments in many countries across the world.
Set against this oppressive socio-political milieu, Sastry's latest work 'Come Sit With Me' was a durational performance at the 2025 Hyderabad Literary Festival. As part of the performance, Sastry sat in full drag in the middle of a bustling IT park in Hyderabad — an environment dictated by order, productivity, and binaries. Their presence alone was enough to disrupt the structure, creating chaos, sparking curiosity, and igniting conversations.
Sastry's own couch from their home served as the stage for the performance. Garbed in a banjara Kutch costume filled with mirrors, Sastry sat at the same place for the next few hours. It was "not just any costume, but one deeply rooted in Indigenous culture," Sastry says. "It had the essence of the Banjara Kutch attire, a fabric that tells stories, holds history, and refuses to be confined. The mirrors served a purpose. They were not just embellishments. They were reflections. They forced everyone who walked by to see themselves in me, to see themselves in a trans person sitting right in front of them, to realise that no matter how much the world tries to create an 'us' and 'them', we are all just human beings looking at different versions of ourselves."
"My face (was) covered with the same intricate work, hiding any immediate indicators of gender. It was intentional," Sastry says. "The moment people look at a person, they categorize — man, woman, other. I did not want to give them that luxury."
"A simple board stood next to me: 'If you see me beyond two, then come sit with me for two minutes too.' A request; an invitation; a challenge."Patruni Sastry
What started as passive observation soon became active participation — people stopped, stared, and then engaged. A young woman confided in them about her struggles with acceptance. An 80-year-old doctor spoke about the ethical dilemmas of gender-affirming surgeries. Corporate employees cautiously but eagerly asked about gender beyond the male-female binary. Some laughed, some observed from afar, and some sat with them, breaking the invisible barriers of heteronormative conditioning.
"As a drag artist and performance activist, my work confronts the intersections of gender, identity, and public perception. This piece, in particular, serves as a direct counter to the rising global attacks on drag and trans identities."Patruni Sastry
"In a world where trans and queer bodies are increasingly criminalized, erased, or policed, Come Sit with Me reclaimed space in an environment that rarely acknowledges gender diversity beyond corporate tokenism," Sastry says. "This was more than just performance art — it was a political act, a rebellion against a global climate of transphobia, and a demand for visibility in a world that seeks to silence us."
"Come Sit with Me was not just a performance," Sastry says. "It was a moment of defiance. It was proof that despite the hate, despite the politics, people still had the capacity for solidarity. They just needed an invitation. They just needed to sit down."
Watch the 'Come Sit With Me' performance art film by Patruni Sastry here:
Follow Patruni Sastry here.
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