‘If I don’t make myself feel included, why would others?’: Dr Md Abubakar Parvez
At first glance, Md Abubakar Parvez’s identity is one of intersectionality — a Muslim doctor and a non-binary pansexual individual. But for Awwboo, as he is affectionately called by his peers, his identity is much more than the labels society placed on him. My Kolkata had an illuminating chat with the 23-year-old about navigating these intersectionalities, and forging his identity on his own terms.
Born and brought up in Kolkata, Awwboo remembers how his parents eloped because they were from different faiths. “I think that’s where I got my sense of rebellion,” he said. From an early age, he faced the pressure to conform, something which he feels every child faces if they are perceived as ‘effeminate’. “Adults barge into your life and tell your parents to ask you to ‘behave normally’. Kids in school also inflict this peer pressure when you go against the norm,” he added.
Dr Awwboo on the ramp in a sari
From an early age, he decided that if he didn’t conform to society’s ideas of masculinity, he would own their ideas of success. To deal with annoyance from his peers, Awwboo devoted himself to academics. But the experience of being in an alien, heteronormative environment wasn’t easy. “It was a new space, with too many men. Men are scary and unpredictable. They aren’t held accountable for their actions. One of my friends decided to reveal my sexuality without asking me — and suddenly everyone knew. I was just in Class VII and it got very lonely, as no one wanted to talk to me. But later, I actually felt grateful because he relieved me of the burden of coming out,” he revealed. This made him dive even deeper into his studies, and Awwboo topped his school in Class X. He confesses that many of his present issues stem from his time in school, where kids made him feel like he was never enough. “I always felt like I was doing something wrong and didn’t deserve to be liked. It takes a toll, feeling like a burden on social groups. Even now, I don’t know how to respond to compliments. But for all the bad, I can’t forget all the good that happened at the time, because it made me who I am,” he said.
After completing school, he didn’t qualify at the National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET). He decided to study Life Sciences at Presidency University, topping his class there too. The varsity came like a breath of fresh air for Awwboo, giving him the space to be himself… “People didn’t see my gender or sexuality as my only characteristic and saw me as a whole person. I finally felt comfortable in my own skin,” he said.
However, he hadn’t completely given up on his medical aspirations, studying for NEET on the side. “Since I couldn’t get through the first time, I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. When I got my results, I realised that I would secure a government college seat in the city.” he recalled. He found a place at Burdwan Medical College after his first counselling. But things weren’t smooth at the start. “The first two weeks were hell because I couldn’t relate to anyone. I felt like I was being pushed into the closet again,” Dr Awwboo rued. His second counselling was a turning point, when he got into Sagore Dutta Hospital, Kamarhati. He slipped into a new routine, travelling to the hospital in the morning, and going to work at Presidency’s lab after classes. “I would enjoy working in the lab observing how yeast grows under stress and its relation to the human body,” he chuckled.
In his third year, the world came to a standstill with the pandemic, and so did he. He enjoyed the cycle of sleeping, eating and watching Netflix in the beginning, before the urge to do something took over. “It was a vicious cycle, where I was unproductive because of anxiety, and my anxiety made me more unproductive. One day, I found that our college has a bus service for health workers, and I asked the driver to pick me up,” he said. While medical students generally don’t start working before their fifth year, Awwboo was going to wards and seeing patients from his third year itself, even filling in at times for his seniors. “I can’t sit still and have always loved helping people, which is where medicine came in. That phase wasn’t easy though and I would often get panic attacks in the hospital, fearing that I had COVID. But after completing my third year, I started interning, which was the best year of my life. It allowed me to actually do something, and make a difference,” he recalled with a smile.
Dr Awwboo says that at any point, his patients occupy a space at the back of his mind
In the beginning, while he was apprehensive about moving out of his parents’ home and into the hostel, it was what finally allowed him to make friends in college. It became a daily ritual for everyone in the hostel to complete work and gather in his room. “Even if we just watched reels on our respective phones, we gathered in the same room to do nothing. It was like a family,” he said.
Internship also taught him his first harsh truth of medicine, and prioritising his mental health. “When I saw my first patient die despite doing everything I could to save her, I realised that there was no point in feeling bad about something I had no control over. I somehow shut down that part of my brain during my internship days itself.” That being said, Awwboo admits that it is impossible to dissociate, and he is always thinking about his patients even when he isn’t on duty. “I’d randomly call my colleagues and say, ‘Ei medicine ta add korle bhalo hobe.’ At any point, my patients always occupy a space at the back of my mind,” he explained.
While most medical students don’t start working until fifth year, Awwboo (in black) started seeing patients at Sagore Dutta Hospital, Kamarhati from third year itself
When asked about how the patients perceive his gender and sexuality, Awwboo said, “I made it so normal to be myself in the hospital that I don’t feel a single stare of judgement. Whenever I am going to work, I don’t have a specific set of clothes, be it masculine or feminine. I wear non-binary clothing and it's often fun to confuse people,” he chuckled. He wore his identity with pride in his graduation picture, where he is seen accepting his degree by pairing a kurta with a sari.
But Awwboo admits that people in hospitals can have a closed approach to concepts, even if they aren’t openly bigoted. “I have over 50% of a chance to contract HIV, Hepatitis B or Syphilis if an infected patient’s needle pricks me, but people will still pin it down to my sexuality,” he quipped.
His pansexuality has allowed him to share a unique sense of empathy with heterosexual women and trans people, where they can talk about their trauma that largely originates from men. “Sitting together and b****ing about men can be very therapeutic!” he laughed.
But his empathy shines through brightest when Dr Awwboo speaks about his queerness with respect to Islam, two identities that have shared friction in the past. “I think Allah sees everything, including the good in your heart and the good you want for other people. So if both are there, I really believe that Allah would be okay with whoever you are and however you identify,” he opined.
He also explains that his identity isn’t limited to his religion or sexuality, but includes the Awwboo who is a son, a friend, and a doctor. For the same reason, he doesn’t advocate romanticising queer struggles. “I am grateful for those who have struggled for their rights to make it better for us, but someone’s life shouldn’t be all about their struggles. If I start seeing some aspects of my personality as a problem, I will start segregating myself. If my entire personality is my gender or sexuality, it won’t make me feel included in a space. And if I don’t make myself feel included, why would others? My narrative should only be defined by me,” he clinched.
So, doesn’t the intersectionality get to him? For Awwboo, it has the opposite effect. “Being a part of the minority empowers me more. I believe that it doesn’t matter if you’re a Muslim or pansexual or non-binary. It is not only okay, but also normal.” What is normal, we asked. “Existing. In whatever way you are,” he signed off.
