It is July already! I do not know about you, but the month of June was pretty mundane for me. Not entirely, though. The last month saw plenty of people the world over, myself included, celebrate Pride Month.
It is ironic that an article celebrating Pride should be published after Pride Month has come and gone. Come and gone, just like that sense of Pride we seem to flaunt every now and then. Most people only seem to have an ephemeral sense of acceptance, one that expires once July kicks in.
Are we really the inclusive society we proudly tout ourselves to be?
Imagine this: A Gujarati septuagenarian’s nephew suddenly finds his beloved mama smooching another gentleman on the Mumbai Bandstand, for one and all to see. The first thought that pops into his mind is not: “What will mami think?’ or “How can he do this in plain sight?” but rather “Mama was kissing a man!”
Take another hypothetical — a bunch of besties at a restaurant are gaily dissecting the stranger who has just seated themselves at an adjacent table. Someone whose gender identity is not quite clear. “Is that a boy or a girl?” one of them asks. The floor is open to bets (literally), while the revellers make merry, pointing out ways to defend their assumptions. What are you going to do, check underneath for “balls” like you would in a Persian cat? Does it matter if it is a he with a vagina or a she with a penis? Are we really the inclusive society we proudly tout ourselves to be?
All my life I have felt different. Not like the beautiful people in this article have felt, but different, nonetheless. It has taken me several angst-ridden forays into my soul to finally find its centre. It was writing that saved me. Indeed, it was writing that allowed me to understand that melancholy can be beautiful. I learned to embrace my pain. And I learned to let it go.
I remember sitting with a group of friends in Goa, one of those friends pointing at me and saying, “Look at him, he’s different!” I took that personally. It was, perhaps, one of the few times in my life that I actually felt it was useless to try and fit in. It was a long time after that when I finally realised that different is beautiful.
There are times in life when all of us feel isolated, marginalised, perhaps even discriminated against. It is as if we have been put on trial for something innate about us that we cannot change. Now imagine being on trial every single day of your life. That too for something as deeply personal as who you are attracted to. No amount of Instagram hashtags or Pride marches can quell this trial, not unless it is quelled from within.
Wearing a woman’s clothes was not going to make him feel any more like a woman
To this day it is difficult for queer people in India to open up to their parents about their sexual orientation
UnsplashWhen talking about Pride, we must extend it well beyond its superficial scope. At times, we point fingers at someone with a monstrous lump hanging from their neck or at a gentleman who is as obese as those sloths we have otherwise only seen in YouTube videos. Let us face it, we do not think of them as different. Freaks of nature would be more like it. As though they are meant to be ridiculed. They could be the nicest people in the world, but who cares?
I read this heart-wrenching article once about a boy who forever felt like he was a woman trapped in a man’s body. Some suggested he wear women’s clothing, so he could feel more like the gender he identified with. Well, he did not heed their advice. Wearing a woman’s clothes was not going to make him feel any more like a woman. Just like watching gay men have sex is not going to make someone less straight.
Imagine a boy who finds himself on the verge of coming out of the closet, telling his parents he is attracted only to other boys. Place yourself in the shoes of that boy for a moment. Think of the abuses his father might hurl at him. Or how his mother might not be able to look him in the eyes again. What happens to such people? Who speaks for them? More importantly, who listens to them and their stories?
We must resolve to celebrate the differences in ourselves as well as others
It is going to take years for us to actually embrace diversity
TT archivesJudging a person on the basis of their sexuality is like judging them on the basis of their appearance. What does it matter what they do in bed or how they dress? Years of conditioning have led people to bash them. It is going to take years of spreading awareness and acceptance for us to actually embrace diversity.
And yes, we should teach kids young. The only way children will feel it is okay for boys to kiss other boys, or for girls to kiss other girls, is if they are taught early on by their parents that love is a universal language. Not just something they see on Netflix. Although that might help a tad.
Forget Pride Month, every day is Pride Day. We must wake up each morning, resolving to celebrate the differences in ourselves as well as others. To love everyone. Love is love, they say. It is about time we owned that statement.
Rohit Trilokekar is a novelist from Mumbai who flirts with the idea of what it means to love. His heart’s compass swerves ever so often towards Kolkata, the city he believes has the most discerning literary audience.
