A ten-foot rainbow slithered over the burnished sands like a snake. It slipped silkily through the melee of joggers, peanut sellers, and kites on the Marina beach, as more than 300 people declared that their sexuality was their choice — theirs alone — and they were proud of it. ‘We Celebrate The Love That Was Decriminalised', read the pamphlets passed around. The Rainbow Parade was back in the city.
“Of course, we're here to celebrate,” smiled Aniruddhan Vasudevan, director of the Shakti Resource Center, “but the case is still pending in the Delhi High Court, because of the opposition the verdict has received from several quarters. Most people only think of transgenders when they think of alternative sexualities. But it's usually the LGBs who live with their families, and are forced into marriages.”
Unmasking!
“There are fewer people in masks than last year,” whoops a jubilant George. “I'd like to think more have become open about their sexuality!” holding his end of the expansive rainbow flag a little higher. There were also more families to show support, emphasising that their siblings and children would be loved, regardless of whom they chose to love.
It is also a fight for transgenders to be included in the census, to look beyond binary genders, and to avoid that ominous categorisation of ‘Others'. Newspapers are rife with instances of electro-shock therapy and drugs used to ‘correct' sexual orientation, sometimes fatally.
“Why don't you ask me about this?” demands Sooraj, spreading his arms so we can see all what he's wearing — a crisp white formal shirt, a black jacket borrowed from a three-piece suit, and virulent green-and-red checked shorts. With a pair of aviators. “There are so many restrictions — what to wear, what to say, how to sit and who to love... Enough is enough!”
Raghvendra Upadhyay, secretary of the Sanjeevani Booti AIDS Education and Prevention Centre, has been to the parades in Delhi and Mumbai. “There are very few women in the parades compared to the other metros,” he said. “This city has a long way to go.”
Kalki, founder of the Sahodari Foundation, had a different take on the march and the smaller numbers than the year before. “Last year, we were united against the law. Now that the law has disappeared, caste and class differences amongst the foot soldiers are becoming more pronounced — just as they do in most struggles. But, we will work on, regardless.”
The march marked the final pirouette before the curtains came down on what was a month of celebrations of the Rainbow Pride — to celebrate the visibility of alternative sexualities and gender identities. The previous evening had seen the crowning of Ms. Sahodaran 2010 at a rain-washed Kipling Café on ECR.
“It takes glamour and guts for them to be here — a historically disempowered, ostracised community,” said Sunil Menon, the director of Sahodaran, which works to create HIV/AIDS awareness among the MSM and transgender population. The seven finalists added camaraderie to an evening already marked by their confidence — while they all fought valiantly for the title, they would huddle offstage laughing and talking between rounds, the contest forgotten.
Sada spoke of the only opportunities that come to transgenders — sex-work and begging; and Shweta reminded us of the need to undo the stereotypes, to do away with the derogatory characters in films. “I can go home only in a burqa,” said Deepika. “I'd like to go home as myself.” White curtains billowed gently, sweeping the wet green grass; the granite, wet in patches, was a potential minefield for the stilettoed models. But, they breezed through with élan. And, just as the clouds threatened to burst forth again, Priyanka was declared the winner.
Erase differences
“The ball is in our court. We need to go out and erase these differences. They're definitely doing their part,” said designer Rehane, one of the judges.
And, all of them were there at the Rainbow Pride march the next day — whooping, shouting slogans, and celebrating life and its small victories. Kirsten Anderson, one of the marchers, said: “It's great to mobilise the LGBT community itself, but everyone else has to be woken up too.”
Which is why that walk along the subcontinent's curves, amidst thousands gathered under a setting sun, the Bay of Bengal murmuring reassuringly to the left, was a significant, necessary reclamation of space and identity. Love in the time of legalities.
