Poongodi Mathiarasu

Akshara Sanal

PARI Desk

Editor

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Dressed in a deep blue kurta,
embroidered lungi and a rope of fragrant jasmine coiled around her hair, M.P.
Selvi enters the large kitchen she runs – Karumbukadai M.P. Selvi Biryani
Master. The staff of her catering unit look up, some of the chatter ceases and a worker greets her
and takes her bag. 

Selvi is the ‘biryani master’
and instantly commands respect in this large kitchen of over 60 people. In a
few minutes everyone is back in their rhythm, moving quickly and efficiently, oblivious to the smoke and sparks that
sputter from the flames. 

The legendary biryani has been
made by Selvi and her cooks for over three decades now – dum mutton biryani, a dish where the meat and rice cook together,
unlike other biryanis where the two main ingredients are cooked separately. 

“I am a Coimbatore dum biryani specialist,” says the
50-year-old trans woman. “I manage it all alone. I will keep everything in mind.
Many times, we get booked six months in advance.”

As she is speaking to us, a satuvam (large spoon) dripping with
biryani masala is handed to her. Selvi tastes the marinade and nods,
“okay.”  That’s the final and most
important taste test and everybody looks relieved as the head chef approves the
dish. 

“Everyone calls me ‘Selvi amma [mother]’. There&#39;s joy in being called ‘amma’ for a ‘thirunangai’
[trans woman],” she says beaming.

She runs her catering service from her home in Pullukadu, a low-income housing area in the city. She employs 65
people, including 15 trans people. In a week the team prepares orders of up to 1,000
kilos of biryani, and sometimes a few weddings get added to this count. Once
Selvi catered 3,500 kilos for a large mosque in the city that fed close to
20,000 people. 



“Why do I like cooking? Once, after
eating my biryani, a customer named Abdin called me and said, ‘What taste! The
meat falls off the bone like snow’.” But it’s not just the taste factor: “My
customers eat food made by the hands of a transgender person. It feels like a
blessing.”  

The day we visit, 400 kilograms
of biryani are being made to serve at a wedding. “There is no ‘secret’ masala
in my famous biryani!” Selvi amma
says and insists that the taste comes from her attention to detail. “My mind is
always on the pot. I like to add the masalas like coriander powder, garam
masala, and [spices] like cardamom myself,” she says, gesturing with hands that
have fed thousands of people.

Ingredients for the wedding biryani are being
prepped by two of her employees, brothers in their thirties – Tamilarasan and
Elavarasan. They are cutting vegetables, mixing masalas and checking the fire
wood. If it’s a big event, making biryani can take
a whole day and night.

Selvi amma’s calendar is especially busy during April and May – the
holiday season – when she receives up to 20 orders. Her
regular customers are mostly from the Muslim community, and she often caters
for weddings and engagements. And she adds, “no matter how big a millionaire
they may be, they call me ‘amma’
[mother].”

Mutton biryani is
the most popular dish, but Selvi also offers chicken and beef biryani. About
four to six people can eat a kilo of biryani. She charges Rs. 120 for cooking a
kilo of biryani, and the ingredients are a separate cost. 

After four hours preparing the
biryani, Selvi amma’s clothes are
soiled from the oils and spices she has used; the heat of the kitchen makes her
face glisten with sweat. The grey room behind her is lit by the flames firing the
large degchis (cooking vessels). 

“People do not last long in my
kitchen. It’s not easy to find people who do what we do,” she explains. “We
lift weights and stand in front of fires. If they want to work for me, they
have to do difficult work. And those who do not want to do so, run away.” 

After a few hours everyone sits down to eat
breakfast, parotta and beef korma bought from a nearby restaurant.

Growing up, Selvi amma’s childhood was marked by food
scarcity. “Access to food was very difficult for our family. We only ate corn
and maize,” she says. “Rice was something we had only once every six months.” 

She was born in 1974 in
Pullukadu, Coimbatore to a family of agricultural workers. When she realised
that she was transgender (assigned male at birth but identifying as a woman),
she went to Hyderabad and from there to Mumbai and Delhi. “I didn&#39;t like it so
I came back to Coimbatore and decided not to leave again. I am able to live with
dignity as a transgender woman in Coimbatore,” she says. 

Selvi has adopted 10 trans daughters who live
and work with her. “Not only trans women, but other men and women depend on me
for their survival. Everyone should eat. I want them to be happy.”

It was an older trans person who
taught Selvi amma cooking and has never
forgotten the skills picked up 30 years ago. “Initially I went to work as a
helper and eventually worked as an assistant for six years. They paid me 20
rupees for two days of work. It was a small amount. But I was happy with that.”



She has passed on the skill to others – Saro,
Selvi amma’s adopted daughter learnt
from her and today is a master biryani-maker in her own right, and as Selvi
says proudly, “is capable of handling thousands of kilograms of biryani.”

“There are daughters and
granddaughters in the transgender community. If we teach them a skill, their
lives will be enriched,” says Selvi who feels self-reliance is the biggest gift
she can pass on to other transgender persons, “or else we would have to do dhantha [sex work] or yasakam [begging].” 



She points out that not only trans
women (but also men and women) depend on her. Valli amma and Sundari have been working with
her for over 15 years. “I was young when I met Selvi amma,” says Vali amma,
older than her employer. “My children were little. This was the only earning
option then. Now that my children are grown and earning, they want me to rest.
But I love working. The money I earn gives me freedom. I can spend as I wish,
going on tours!”  



Selvi amma says she pays her employees Rs. 1,250 a day. Sometimes, when
orders are very large, the team has to pull a 24-hour shift. “If we have to
cook for a morning function, we don’t sleep,” she says. The pay then rises to
Rs. 2,500 and she says assertively, “that&#39;s what you should get paid. This is
not just regular work. We work with fire!”



Flames light up almost every corner of the huge
kitchen. Logs of firewood are even kept on top of the degchi’s lid while the biryani simmers. “You cannot be afraid of
the fire,” says Selvi amma. That
doesn’t mean there are no injuries. “We get burns, you just have to be
careful,” she warns. “We suffer in that fire. But when you think that you can
earn a hundred rupees and eat happily for a week, that pain fades away.”

A chef’s day starts early, and Selvi
amma sets out by 7 a.m. Bag in hand,
she hails an auto from outside her home in Karumbukadai for the 15-minute ride.
Her day however, starts even earlier at 5 a.m. when she tends to her cows,
goats, chickens and ducks. Mayakka, 40, one of Selvi amma’s adopted daughters,
helps with feeding, milking and collecting eggs. Selvi loves feeding her
animals as “they help ease my mind, especially after the stress from my
high-pressure job in the kitchen.”



Work doesn’t end for the master
biryani chef after she is back home. She continues to manage all the bookings
with some help from trusted friends – a diary and pen. She also organises all
the groceries for the next day’s cooking. 



“I only take up the work from people
who trust me,” says Selvi amma as she moves to the kitchen to cook her
own dinner. “I don&#39;t like doing nothing and just eating and sleeping.”



During the pandemic Selvi says work shut down
for three years. “We had no other way to survive, so we bought a cow for milk.
Now we need three litres of milk every day. Anything extra, we sell,” she says.

Home is in the Tamil Nadu Urban
Habitat Development Board quarters. Most of the families around belong to
Scheduled Caste community and are daily wage workers. “There are no rich people
here. Everyone is working class and if they need good milk for their children,
they come to me.”  



“We have been living here for 25 years. The
government acquired our land for road construction and [in return] provided us
with a house here,” she explains and adds, “people here treat us with
dignity.” This story is supported by a fellowship from Mrinalini Mukherjee Foundation (MMF).

Selvi amma: Coimbatore’s biryani master

کوئمبٹور کی بریانی ماسٹر: سیلوی امّاں

సెల్వి అమ్మ: కోయంబత్తూరు బిర్యానీ మాస్టర్

ਸੇਲਵੀ ਅੰਮਾ: ਕੋਇੰਬਟੂਰ ਦੀ ਬਿਰਯਾਨੀ ਮਾਸਟਰ

ସେଲଭି ଆମ୍ମା: କୋଏମ୍ବାଟୁରର ବିରିୟାନୀ ମାଷ୍ଟର

कोइम्बतूरची बिर्याणी मास्टर सेल्वी अम्मा

സെൽ‌വി അമ്മ: കോയമ്പത്തൂരിലെ ബിരിയാണിയുടെ സ്വർഗ്ഗീയ രുചി

ಸೆಲ್ವಿ ಅಮ್ಮ: ಕೊಯಮತ್ತೂರಿನ ಬಿರಿಯಾನಿ ಮಾಸ್ಟರ್‌

कोयंबटूर की रानी: सेल्वी अम्मा की मटन बिरयानी

મોંમાં પાણી લાવતી સેલ્વી અમ્માની બિરયાની

सेल्वी अम्मा: कोयंबटूर के बिरयानी मास्टर

कोयंबटूर के बिरयानी उस्ताद सेल्वी अम्मा

কোয়েম্বাটোরের বিরিয়ানি মাস্টার সেলভি আম্মা

চেলভি আম্মাৰ বিশাল ৰান্ধনীশালাই সকলোকে আদৰিছে

செல்வி அம்மா: கோயம்புத்தூர் பிரியாணி மாஸ்டர்

Coimbatore

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Selvi amma: Coimbatore’s biryani master

A beloved cook’s biryani is all the rage in Coimbatore’s Pullukadu area. With over 15 trans employees, this is an inclusive-catering service

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