Gay Pakistani in SF seeks asylum

Feb 21, 2003
Bay Area Reporter
Mark Mardon

Keshav Jiwnani, better known in San Francisco as DJ KJ, the man who rules the turntables at Pink Saturday and Halloween in the Castro, and at various Civic Center stages at Gay Pride celebrations, was born gay and of Indian/Hindu descent in mostly Muslim Karachi, Pakistan, some 34 years ago. Hindus make up less than 1 percent of the population of Pakistan, and hostilities between Muslims and Hindus, as witnessed by the recent nuclear saber rattling between Pakistan and India, are at an all-time high. Being both gay and Hindu in Muslim Pakistan put KJ in a situation of double jeopardy early on in life.

"I knew I was gay as a little child, 9, 10, or 11," said KJ. "At first it was just childhood curiosity, but then I started hearing gandoo-'fag' in Urdu-said to my face."

To say the least, being openly gay was never an option for him in Karachi, so he made his way at last to America in search of freedom, and he has lived here-undocumented-for the last 17 years, with slim hopes of one day attaining legal status. Though he's been sponsored by his sister, an American citizen, and supported in part by his brother in New Jersey, a green card holder, KJ remains terrified at the prospect of being sent home to what he feels is certain persecution. And that terror has kept him from facing US authorities empowered to send him home.

"You can get a hundred lashings or stoned to death or imprisoned" for being gay in Pakistan, KJ declared.

Until now, KJ hasn't had to face the music, but after 9/11, with the nation on the alert for potential terrorists, his number's up: this week the Immigrations and Naturalization Service began calling citizens and national of Pakistan and Saudi Arabia to register to be fingerprinted, and interviewed under oath. On Tuesday, Feb 18, KJ underwent an all-day interview and learned the INS will now initiate "removal proceedings." Unless he receives asylum, he could be deported.

"He might be detained and have to get out on bail," said Dusty Araujo, asylum program coordinator for the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission, who has reviewed KJ's case. "It could take the INS days or weeks to check on who he is." However, Araujo added, KJ "has been in the country undocumented quite a few years," which could cause him a problem. In ordinary circumstances, however, once a person has filed an application for asylum with the INS, which KJ has, "you have legal status in the process of seeking remedy," which affords at least temporary protection.

Marta Donayre, co-founder of Love Sees No Borders (www.loveseesnoborders.org), public education director of the National Center for Lesbian Rights, and a member of the steering committee for Amnesty International's "Out Front Program," is not entirely optimistic.

"The problem right now," she said, "is that whatever was happening before 9/11 that was bad [in terms of dealing with the INS] is now worse."

With respect to the INS registration program, said Donayre, "there have been a lot of abuses by the INS. A lot of people are being sent to detention and expelled. If you are an American with a partner from Pakistan, you have no way of protecting your partner. It's impacting this community a lot. Most of the people stay silent. Visas have been denied abroad because of same-sex relationships. We have had couples who are reluctant even to talk to us. There's a very high level of paranoia."

While KJ's fears of deportation are real, by no means is he alone in his struggle to stay in the US. He has an asylum hearing with the INS scheduled for February 24-his best chance at staying in America-and his case is being handled by Robert Jobe, of one of San Francisco's most respected asylum attorneys.

Broad Support

Beyond that, in San Francisco alone, not to mention Los Angeles and Kirkland, Washington, where he has also lived, KJ has many friends working to keep him safe in the US. Included in the roster of KJ supporters are such gay community leaders as Assemblyman Mark Leno (D-San Francisco) and Supervisors Tom Ammiano and Bevan Dufty, as well as SF Pride Executive Director Teddy Witherington, and the San Francisco Late Night Coalition's John Wood, who views KJ as a local treasure. They and countless others are circulating petitions and drafting letters to show the INS and anyone else who cares that KJ is a beloved figure in the local dance scene, having contributed to many gay festivities. They feel he deserves asylum in America, where he has become an integral, highly valued part of the gay and lesbian social fabric.

Clearly KJ faces a dire situation I forced back home.

"Gays in Pakistan live in shame and fear," KJ said. "It's not acknowledged, respected, and appreciated as it is here. If I go back to Pakistan, I would go to my mom's place and she would pressure me to get married, which means emotional torture for myself and the woman I marry. I can't stand living a lie anymore. I fear if my identity is revealed, I could be tortured, blackmailed, kidnapped, raped. Islamic law punishes gays by flogging, torture, stoning. Especially me being a minority. I'll be treated as less than human."

He lived in Karachi until he was 17, and was always being made fun of because he didn't play sports or act macho.

"I didn't actually come out there, but I was outed," KJ said. "I became very isolated and had to keep feelings inside myself. My sister knew my life in Pakistan, that I wasn't going to make it for very long. She filed for my student visa, and I came to Southern California and went to high school in Irvine, and then to Irvine College Community College, but I didn't finish college. I was able to take classes without bring harassed. For the first time ever I started going to gay youth groups and dance clubs and people were open to being my friend without sexual connotations to it."

Now KJ lives in a funky pad in the Inner Mission District, sharing wit with other gay artists who do makeup, photography, and landscaping, among other pursuits. KJ himself barely gets by deejaying and doing odd jobs such as house painting. His sister and brother send him money, but he squeezes by on a very bare minimum. He's the epitome of an artist living on the edge.

"I'm not ashamed to ask for protection from America," said KJ. "I am a human being like everybody else. I've found respect, dignity, and stability here, and they're all very dear to me, and I didn't have those things growing up in Pakistan, and being in America has provided me the chance to focus on my art."

Without a doubt, his art has had a mighty impact. He has deejayed at four Pink Saturdays, and an equal number of Halloween celebrations in the Castro, starting in 1998. His deejay stand, most often set up in front of Nirvana restaurant, always draws the young crowds eager to experience KJ's cutting-edge progressive-trance sounds. KJ has spun at Pride Celebrations in Civic Center sing 1998, including on two floats-Blue Room (1999) and Braindrops (2000)-the Red Bull dance stage (2001), and SF Late Night Coalition's "Tantra" stage (2002). He also DJ'd for the "World Peace through Technology Fair" in San Francisco, better known as the "How Weird Street Fair," where he's been music coordinator for last three years. on top of that over the last five consecutive years, he's deejayed at least 30 times at the ultimate outdoor venue, Burning Man, out on the Black Rock Desert of Nevada. By that count, KJ-a close friend of word renowned Indian DJ Goa Gill-may be the most requested and danced-to deejay on the playa.

"KJ is a very gentle being who uses music to make people joyous," say friend and music collaborator Wood, legislative analyst of the SF Late Night Coalition, which builds bridges between the dance community and civic leaders. "He's not involved in politics at all. His whole life is about are and music."