I returned to India one year ago, after 22 years in the U.S. A few years ago, when I had first spoken of going back home, all my friends had invariably asked, “What about being gay in India?”
There are many challenges an Indian faces while trying to resettle in the motherland. I had an uncommon, additional one.
After being proudly out for over two decades, living in New York City, the birthplace of the modern gay rights movement, I was returning to my homeland where homosexuality was illegal and gay acceptance limited. I had forgotten the days inside the closet, and I would have to adapt again to hiding a core part of myself.
Despite this, I decided to move. I wanted to support my ageing parents in their own home and country. Not only had they done their best to raise me, they had set me free to pursue my life in every way I desired, including my sexuality which they lovingly accepted. Their acceptance was in spite of their coming from conservative, middle-class backgrounds with highly limited, if not zero, exposure to homosexuality before my coming out to them about 15 years ago.
Not ready to be outed
I knew then there was an LGBTQ+ population in India larger than the overall population of many countries. If they could survive, and in many cases thrive, in India, I thought I should not shy away from trying to adapt, especially considering I was more privileged than a lot of them. Besides, I told my friends half-jokingly, I could always move back if things got absolutely untenable, as much to allay their concerns as to cover up mine.
Despite my brave thoughts, I had already decided diffidently to take the path of least resistance. Being openly gay in India had two obstacles then for me. The first was the criminalisation of homosexuality, a colonial imposition that Indians suffered for over two centuries. Secondly, my parents were not ready to be outed as parents of a gay son in their own world in spite of their acceptance of me and my gay friends. It is one thing to accept your child out of love, but it is entirely another to stop feeling the societal shame of their son being openly gay. Even today, even in the liberal cities of the West, it is this leap from feeling shame to feeling pride that many gay men and women find hard to make.
Then, within a year of my return, the Supreme Court decriminalised same-sex relationships. In the verdict, the judges not only blazingly supported the right to dignity of gay people, but one judge went so far as to note that history owed us an apology.
Vigorous verdicts
Now, with the law of the land no longer against us, all accepting Indian parents will feel more comfortable about their child being openly gay. They will feel confident that their primary concern, their children’s safety, is now assured. Now, all that’s left is for society to progress enough so it can be proud of its gay sons and daughters.
I have been in two minds about writing this public essay, fearing that it might upset the peaceful status quo I have maintained with my parents since I came out to them 15 years ago. That it could end up working against my primary motive of relocation, which is to give them a happy and supportive retired life. What inspired me was the vigorous verdicts the five jurists gave, and the voices of the courageous women and men who openly fought an uphill battle to win this ruling. It has spurred me to make myself more visible here. Having lived through and experienced first-hand the change in gay acceptance in the U.S., I am aware that nothing helps the cause more than positive visibility.
The writer is a lighting designer for architecture, and after fast-paced New York City, is now experimenting with a slower life in India.
