Q&A: ‘Homophobia is most archaic and regressive’

17 July 2009, 12:00am IST
SOURCE:  Times of India

Amol Palekar’s acclaimed films in Hindi, Marathi and English Daayra, Anaahat and Thaang (Quest) have focused on the stark subject of non-mainstream sexuality in India. His unconventional stance has made some viewers cringe and prompted some to ponder. He speaks to Ratnottama Sengupta :

What inspired you to make three films exploring the different definitions of sexuality?
In our society sexuality is taboo. If ever we talk about it, we avoid serious discussion on sexual orientation, preferences and choices. This closeted approach keeps us from educating ourselves or from knowing the existing reality. Ignorance, prejudices and phobias flourish then, and as film-maker i feel the need to address them. That’s how i did Daayra (1996), Anaahat (2003) and Thaang/Quest (2006). They provoked viewers to think of a transgender existence, a woman’s sexual desires or genuineness of a gay relationship. As they come out of the theatre they feel compelled to adopt the humanitarian angle. This changed perspective is a tiny ripple I triggered through my films.

How do you react to the decriminalisation of homosexuality?
The judgement in the Naz Foundation case is a path-breaking decision that all should welcome wholeheartedly. This proclamation of equality in treatment will help the marginalised sections of our society achieve freedom in various walks of life. Non-discrimination in employment, availability of home loans and healthcare insurance in same sex partnerships, changed definitions of family for adoption laws are a few instances where social and legal sanction to homosexuality will help. We are certainly marching towards more tolerant and sensitive life.

What do you say to those opposing the judgement?
The belief that non-procreative sex is a perversion and isn’t sanctioned by any religion generates bias against homosexuality. It is then considered a social sin and a criminal act. But homophobia is most archaic and regressive. There’s no scientific basis for the majority claim that same-sex relationships are ‘unnatural’. I’m all for a compassionate social mind that offers sanctity and respect to gay and lesbian bonds.

Given a choice, would you want your child to be a eunuch, or homosexual?
This question itself projects a hang-up suffered by most of us. It also equates being a eunuch or hijra with homosexuality. Eunuch by birth is a sad accident that no parent will wish for, just as no one desires a child with physical handicap. However, how we accommodate eunuchs child or adult will reflect our maturity. Many eunuchs are victims of evil social and religious practices that further perpetrate their exploitation and roles. I’ll have no problem whatsoever if my child is gay. I’ll still be a very proud father of a wonderful human being.

They Made Fun of Me

Soumyadipta Banerjee
Friday, April 3, 2009 23:59 IST
SOURCE:  DNA India

Mumbai: The images started getting blurry for Karan Goel when he was only 15 years old. By the time he reached 27, a crippling eye disease ensured that Goel could barely distinguish between day and night. But by that time, he had already established a successful export house, got an award from president Pratibha Patil.

But that’s not all. Goel, a graduate from San Francisco State University has earned the distinction of being the first blind person to make a full-fledged commercial film in India. “My film is called The Other Side and the film portrays the life of a gay man who is forced to get married due to societal pressure,” says Goel.

But how does he make a film when he can’t even see the camera. “I used to see till I was a teenager, so I have an exact idea of the scene in my head. I ask my assistant to do exactly what is there in my head and when the shot is ready, my assistant tells me exactly where the characters are standing…at which points etc. Then I ask them to roll the camera,” he explains.

The scene takes at least twice the amount of time that a ‘normal’ scene would take, but who’s complaining? “Nobody! People are too appreciative that I have taken up the effort to do something like this. There was a time when I was not getting a job in the US for being blind. I was ridiculed and pushed around by bullies. And I just had to wipe my tears and get out of the place as fast as possible.”

We ask him why a film on gays, is he gay? “I am married. But I had a friend who was tortured and ridiculed. I knew how he felt. I have portrayed the trauma that a gay person goes through if he doesn’t have a support system. People simply don’t understand him. I knew how it feels when people make fun of you. They made fun of me too. I want to tell all my friends that people who make fun will continue to make fun of you. After a point, it wouldn’t matter to you if you have the will to succeed” he ends.

A Beautiful Mind

Kashish Chopra’s parents could not be more proud of her college studies, beauty pageant win, or musical talent. It’s her homosexuality that they don’t understand.
By Scott Lajoie | March 14, 2004
www.boston.com [Click here to read the article]

Of all places, it was on a stage at a Ramada hotel in Edison, New Jersey, surrounded by dozens of other beautiful young women she barely knew, all of them competing for the title of Miss India USA, where Kashish Chopra found the acceptance she has never been able to get from her own parents. Attired in a flowing grape-and-white satin gown, she played classical Indian music, flashed her perfect smile, and walked away as Miss Congeniality.

Pageants can get pretty stressful,” Lisa Mehta, Miss Illinois, said after last August’s pageant, “and she was so supportive of all of us.” Chopra, a senior at Boston’s Suffolk University, has been openly gay since the eighth grade, and she was out to all of her fellow contestants at the pageant, so her homosexuality hardly registered a blip there. But it was when she gave an interview that appeared on a website called www.AfterEllen.com that the flood of e-mails began, most of them from women in such far-flung places as Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. They wrote in desperation, complete strangers, detailing their own struggles to find an identity in their homeland. In Chopra, they see hope in a young woman who has challenged an entire culture’s traditional mores. In her own small way, she is forcing her people to examine whether the time has come for old values to give way to modern culture. This is why she has spent hours answering those e-mails, because she knows that coming out isn’t easy. Especially when you’re Indian.
Read the rest of this entry »

I am gay, not a pervert; life of a gay man in India

BEING GAY: In recent years, we have moved from being in denial to a state to understanding gay relationships.

Profile’s of real people who are different, or have made a difference in other people’s lives. We speak to 24-year old marketing professional Sandeep Rane* from Mumbai, who tells us about his life as a gay man in India.

“A gay man’s life in this country is predominated by confusion. Make no mistake, I say confusion, and not depression,” he says. “In recent years, we have moved from being in denial to a state where were ready to take all this as a nice little joke. The fact that now the idea amuses rather than disgusts people in our country is definitely some kind of progress (with movies like Dostana becoming runaway hits).”

One of my friends got to know about me. We discussed it quite openly in front of her. Then one day we were talking about marriages and I said that I was not gonna marry. She was visibly shocked. Upon inquiring, we found that she thought that my being gay was just a condition and that it was something like a “bad” habit. Like, drinking or smoking. But that it hadn’t really got to do anything with a major decision like marriage.

Name changed to protect identity.

Growing up

“Growing up is probably the funniest part for a gay man in India,” says Sandeep.

I always looked up to my elder sister as this model of perfection. I longed to stay at home with the girls and knit, while the other boys are out bruising themselves and smelling foul. I was petrified to throw a ball in front of my father, worse still, having to catch it.

I remember that silly little feeling in the tummy while watching Aamir Khan in Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, or worshipping Madhuri Dixit and aspiring to be like her when I grow up.

When I turned 13, I realised that female anatomy sketches in the science textbook fascinated me, but never attracted me. I pretended to have a crush on the hot well-fit babe in 10th grade, when actually my crush on the school cricket team captain is the only reason why I even tried understanding the game.

Handling homophobia

“I am out to all my friends, and most of the times I am just myself, because I know they wouldn’t really want it any other way,” smiles Sandeep.

Thankfully, people have started understanding the difference between gay people and eunuchs. A few years back, being gay in India meant that the guy probably had something “missing”. Homophobia in our country is quite different and quite interesting than how it is in the West.

In America, you have gay bashers, secret gay hate clubs, political parties that can use homophobia in order to woo the Catholic/Conservative vote. But in India, homophobia is more about going into such complete denial that there are people who say, “Hatt! Aisa thodi na hota hai!” (all this doesn’t happen in India).

For better or for worse, straight people here can go to the extent of saying that there is no such thing as homosexuality

And even if you like kissing boys, just get married to a nice girl and all that will get fixed on its own.

What next

“Maybe in a few years the amusement may give way to discussion, discussion may give way to consideration. Consideration to tolerance. And then finally to some kind of acceptance,” hopes Sandeep.

I remember this one time when a friend of mine told her husband about me and he joked (or maybe was serious), that maybe one of these days he would find me in a crowded local traing groping young unsuspecting men.

A lot of straight people find this to be some kind of perversion, like paedophilia or rape, which is kind of sad. Not funny or amusing at all. Now, I am not totally denying that this kind of thing doesn’t happen in trains, but then there are all kinds of perverts, there are straight perverts, there are gay perverts. But there is no need to generalise.

Falling in love

“The whole attraction bit was maybe somewhere around 13. I was at this girl’s house who was in the same class and we were meant to study, and I sort of kissed her. And it made me all queesy. And then at 15 when I kissed a boy, I was like ‘hey, this is so much better. I think I’ll continue doing this’. And well, there was no looking back!” says Sandeep.

I find straight men quite boring. They are colourless, speak like there is only one expression for all kind of feelings, and if they are chauvinists, well don’t get me started on that. Of course, I have a few straight men as friends and sometimes, at the end of the day, I realise that maybe I am just like them.

The rest of my inner posse is strictly female and it’s not just because they talk just as much as I do, are fun to shop with, or are just as sensitive as I am. But because at the end of the day, I realise that maybe I am just like them too.

Like everyone, even I want to meet someone, fall in love, and be reasonably happy. I want to be myself, and still be respected. I want to be myself, and still be taken seriously. I want to be myself, and still want my parents to love me. I want to be a father, not just to prove that gay men can be good parents, but because I have a lot of love to give, which probably an adult cannot handle!

Perspectives

Flying Arrows, Stable Bows  For parents, difference could mean disaster. But PARVATI SHARMA finds a moving climate of acceptance Incoming Nitin Karani with his mother Kanchan at their home Photo: Deepak Salvi WHEN 21-YEAR-OLD Damien (name changed) turned 18 he decided he was old enough to tell his mother he was gay. “So, one day I said, I need to tell you something, and asked her to sit down.” Then he lost the words. “I kept saying it was ‘something about me’, and asking her if she’d ‘ever noticed anything’, and she kept saying, ‘What’re you talking about?’, until finally I just said it, ‘I’m not attracted to women’.” “What do you mean?” “I’m gay.” A series of questions followed: “How do you know? Are you sure? Maybe it’s just a phase.” No, it’s not. “Maybe somebody has influenced you.” No, that’s not it. “Do you want to see a doctor?” It’s not a medical condition, it can’t be fixed. “But what about all those girls you used to bring home?” I called them to do homework with, not for any other reason. “Does that mean you won’t get married?” Not to a woman, no. The conversation wasn’t going well. Damien went to his room, but the tears were threatening to flow so he went back to the kitchen for some juice. “Just then, my mother came from behind and hugged me. She said, ‘No matter what happens, you’re still my son; whether you’re gay or straight, as long as you’re not doing anything wrong, I’m going to support you’.” “And I started crying right there.” There is a moving sameness to the gratitude and affection with which gay and lesbian children who have come out to their parents tell the story. A more complicated emotion runs through the parents’ words: Pride, lingering worry, a slight defiance against a world that may hurt their kids. Mrs Kanchan Karani, mother of 37-year-old Nitin, a trustee of Humsafar, remembers how she was “a little scared, a little nervous” when she discovered gay magazines in Nitin’s drawer almost 15 years ago. When he told her what this meant, “I wouldn’t believe that this was natural; I kept saying that you can still get married”. According to Nitin, his mother visited astrologers while his father offered to take him to the best doctors, “abroad if necessary”. But the conversations continued. “I sat with him and listened to him,” says Mrs Karani, “after all, he’s ours, how can we leave him?” Some years later, Nitin’s parents hosted a Gay Bombay Parents’ Meet — a series of annual meetings held in Mumbai since 2000; and his mother has spoken publicly for gay rights. Coming out to family involves a series of difficult and intimate conversations; and requires equal courage and patience from both sides. But, as acceptance and understanding dawns, there is also relief and a certain free camaraderie — a willingness to allow both parties adulthood. Mr and Mrs Ahluwalia, parents of 35- year-old lesbian Priya, happened to be in Mumbai before the 2008 Pride. They decided to attend. Afterwards, says Mr Ahluwalia, “We all went to a Colaba café and had a glass of beer with Priya’s friends. They are all well-spoken, from nice families. There should be no reason for people to look down on them.” Priya is more circumspect. “Maybe they were a little shocked by the drag queens. But they were happily wearing Ban 377 T-shirts, raising banners, cheering.” Also at the march were 33- year-old Harpreet’s two aunts and his mother. One aunt feels that the gay community “won’t get anything out of it. We need to protest in a different way. When I see shows on television and people opposing 377, I feel they are so backward, that people need education.” But they too have broken rules in their time, and know what it’s like. “I married a Gujarati, my sister a Maharashtrian, Harpreet’s mother a Parsi — so we are already considered ultra-modern.” Still, whether it’s inter-community marriage or same-sex love, there is something primal about the comfort parents can provide. Bangalore-based Ponni Arasu was 16 when she came out to her mother. They were walking to a beach and her mother replied, “I knew this was coming; I didn’t think so soon.” Ponni will never forget what her mother said next. “It’s going to be difficult, but please remember, I’m always there for you”. Whether you’re breaking the family tradition of studying medicine or have a lover of the same gender, that’s always good to know.

From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 5, Issue 41, Dated Oct 18, 2008