Breaking the closet

"When I was young and in school, I used to wonder if I had a disease. I was a boy who liked other boys and had never heard the word gay," says Gautam Yadav. In eighth standard, he had to drop out of school as he was abused and called 'hijra'. The incident traumatised him so much that he had to study his 10th and 12th through correspondence.
However coming out to his family, at the age of 17, about his sexuality was not his hardest struggle as his father, despite being educated only till 6th standard, was very supportive. "When I came out to my family, I was not sure if I will be allowed to stay at home anymore. But I was so surprised when my father accepted me and said that he knew about it all the time. I see many educated people cannot come to terms with this situation. My mother, however, is still dealing with it," said Yadav. But for him the real coming out was telling his family about his HIV+ status.
In 2008, he got associated with Naz foundation, an NGO that filed a petition challenging Section 377 and won in the Delhi High Court in 2009. "They suggested me to get tested. Telling my family about this was the biggest challenge but my sister helped me with this," Yadav said at Gaylaxy Magazine's event Breaking the Closet , held at India HIV/AIDS Alliance recently.
He wishes someone had told him about safe sexual practices when he was a teenager. Now doing his bachelors through correspondence, Yadav is a gay rights and HIV/AIDS activist and spreads word about safe sex.
Reiterating Yadav's point, Rituparana Borah, a queer feminist activist from Nazariya said, "It is a common notion that coming out of the closet has to be related to one's sexuality. It is not so. For the transgender there is no concept of coming out, as their state is publicly reflected through their bodies."
Questioning what the closet really meant, she added, "Someone might be forced to hide their caste status because of the society we live in, that is a closet for them. Sexuality is one aspect of our lives, there can be several things that people are forced to hide and those aspects become their closets." Further, Borah questioned if there is really a need to come out. "In our helpline, we tell people that they should only come out if they are sure that they will face no violence. There are so many lesbians who come out and face violence, corrective rapes and forced marriages. In such cases, we need to question if coming out is mandatory," she asked. "It seems like coming out to the family is considered the highest point in a homosexual person's life. In so many cases, family becomes a site of violence then why is validation from the family celebrated to such an extent?" added Borah.
A young girl (identity undisclosed) on the other hand felt coming out to parents can become important at times, "I have been dropping hints to my mother about me being a lesbian. Despite all that she is living in denial. She is not ready for me to come out." Activist Anwesh Sahoo also shared his story and Uddipta Das performed at the event. Many other participants at the event shared their coming out stories as well.
Sharif Rangnekar, a journalist and researcher, didn't have much option but to come out to his mother after his brothers got married. He said, "I was living with my mother and had very little private life. My first kiss was with our servant. I had a typical life, I went to work, came back home and spent time cooking and listening to music." Being an introvert, he didn't have a social life. Later he found out about the Saturday meetings by Naz foundation and started attending them. "Since I would never go out, it became increasingly difficult to tell my mother where I was going on Saturdays. I eventually came out to my mother and it was a journey of learning for both of us," said Rangnekar, who was accompanied to the event by his much supportive mother.
"I was also very close to my mother and shared all aspects of my life with her, so to hide my sexuality didn't feel right to me," he added.
However, not all who come out of the closet or are accidently thrown out of it, lucky enough to find their family's support like Yadav and Rangnekar did. Borah explained, "My friends knew about my sexuality and I was generally vocal about it. But I didn't feel the need to tell my family. So in 2009, when much of Section 377 of IPC was declared unconstitutional, my parents saw me on TV celebrating and stating that I am a lesbian. They didn't talk to me for a long time and even now that they have started talking to me, my sexuality is under 'don't ask, don't tell' policy with them."
Rangnekar felt that the closet is a societal construct. "The closet is all those restraints that we face living our lives. The problem is not us getting out of the closet, the problem is the society getting out of it," he said.

Misunderstood tales of devadasis

Suridhi Sharma, Sep 08, 2016, DHNS

A gathering in a small room listened to recordings of Carnatic music sung by devadasis. An initiative by ‘Ek Potlee Ret Ki’, an activist collective, aimed at preserving art and sustaining artistes from across the country, smashed many mainstream narratives that have been constructed around the image of a devadasi.
Swarnamalya Ganesh, a Fulbright fellow who is also a sadir dancer, explained the various sides to the devadasi and traced her transformation through history. She has learned sadir from devadasis as well and does not call it ‘Bharatanatyam’, as it is popularly known.

“Sadir is the original dance form, which after undergoing the reforms that were heavily influenced by Victorian morality, became Bharatanatyam. It was snatched away from devadasis, who in the process, lost patronage. Bharatanatyam was placed in the hands of elite, a circle very difficult for most devadasis to enter,” she explains.

She further shares, “Reality doesn’t settle in extremes. Devadasis are painted as figures that have always been marginalised and they are often maligned, whereas historiography has a different narrative to tell.”

Today a devadasi has become synonymous with prostitute, but it was not so, Ganesh clarifies. “Because devadasis were devoted to art, they had access to property, society, education and were empowered before colonial times. Of course, it cannot be denied that this empowerment was afforded by patriarchy.”

“While it is true that they did retire at the age of 29, they were taken care of by the society and patrons afterwards as well. There is a reason they were called ‘NityaSumangali’ , which means ever auspicious, and yet they are portrayed wrongly,” she adds.

Since noblemen, kings and the temples used to be their patrons  the devadasis could devote all their time to art.

This patronage was snatched away from them during colonial times. The kings, noblemen and temples lost their wealth and while the British wanted entertainment from devadasis, they were not ready to be their patrons. “And art cannot survive without patronage,” Ganesh quips.

But, according to Ganesh, it is not just the British who have to be blamed for the poor conditions of devadasis today. “The Indian elite adopted Victorian morality and forced it on the devadasis. Did they really need reforms of that type?” she questions.

Ganesh has looked at various narratives of colonial writers about devadasis and found inconsistencies in the way devdasis have been described. “They are not an identity from the past, they are very much amongst us, but have been pushed to the margins because when the devadasi system was abolished, no one came up with an alternative way of survival for them. It was much later that many of them had no choice but to resort to prostitution,” says Ganesh.

Also, it is very difficult to identify the devadasi group from prostitutes today because, for decades they have been clubbed together.

She has also interacted with many devadasis and tried to capture the voice of the subaltern. “They did come together as a collective and drafted a charter for the devadasi reforms that were going to take place. The subaltern does have a voice but they weren’t heard,” explains Ganesh.

Many mainstream films have worked to malign the image of devadasis. The rationalist politics have also opposed and worked to eradicate the devadasi system in Tamil Nadu. M many women rights activist like  Muthulakshmi Reddy have worked towards abolishing this system, but never came up with an alternative for devadasis.

“The reforms further marginalised them,” says Ganesh.

“Today art schools are just producing clones,” Ganesh tells Metrolife. While for decades it has been claimed that Bharatnatayam came from the divine ‘Nataraja’, a manipulated discourse around this dance form has tried to sever ties with devadasis and sadir.

Ganesh is now working for the betterment of this community and trying to revive sadir. She also teaches this dance form and has several students.

Slutty Curls

I always avoided this but as fate would have it I ended up being in Delhi, that too studying gender. I have always maintained that Delhi is the rape capital of India because of the way I was raised, always pitying the condition of my cousins in Delhi. That was till I landed here.
Rape is not just this gang rape on the moving bus, it is also happening in our homes, behind classrooms, in offices, in trains, in toilets, in subways, in shops even in temples. No surprise here that my mother back home in Himachal does not sleep, even if she has fever, till I safely reach home in Delhi every night.
So it was one of those nights again, the late night. My friend was working ‘late’. Apparently 7:30 in the evening in Delhi is ‘late’. So she was working late and I had to wait at Indraprastha metro station. Just on the very day when the Government of India decided to block the stations that would let way for the protestors. Democratic eh?
I stood there in the pink ‘women only’ area, letting train after train pass by me. When the clock ticked eight, fog came gushing in. It was beautiful and I would have loved this and sung songs if was back in Himachal. Nature charms me and I lose myself to it; but not here, not in Delhi. Between those mixed feelings of awe and panic, I plugged myself and opened my curls that were tied up in a bun till now and put on a cap. I had no muffler with me and my curls were serving the purpose. Snug.
Fog was taking over and now it was difficult to see beyond 20 feet. It was 8:15 and some men in a group of five were walking towards the pink area. I being the only woman standing there, went up straight to them and firmly said, “Can’t you see the pink sign, ‘women only’? Peeche jao!”  So they looked at the sign below, laughed and turned back. Now I know being a woman, I can differentiate between a normal laugh and an eve-teasers laugh. But can I? This place has played with my mind so much, I got confused!
If I become a silly lily at times, I laugh it off. So do men. Was that a deliberate laugh or a genuine one?  While those men turned back, I kept judging my intuition.
Finally at 8:28 my friend came in. I rushed to the train and chided her for being ‘late’.
Six stations passed by us and we got off the train.
 “Please tie your hair,” she told me.
“Why?”
“You don’t want undue attention, do you?”
No conversation after this. I obeyed. Tied my curls and put on the small hood fighting to protect my neck. We left the station to find a rickshaw that would take us back home.
I am disgusted, with men, with this city but above all with myself.

My 3 am...

Can't recall the last time I wrote,
And this time I am forcing myself too.
My actions are misleading at times,
But I love you and you'll know it's true.

This is new for me, it is new for you too,
By love, I never wanted to be chased.
I might have portrayed that love is a cage,
But that is because of the way I was raised.

It hunted us down and here you are,
Coping with a hot headed woman like me.
I can't promise to be sober in anger, I can't,
But I promise a sorry, I go down on my knee.

There is jealousy, joy and some blue,
But Red is the best when we are kissing.

When I say I miss the colour,

It is the adventurer in me I am missing.

I wanted to write a sunshine rhyme,
But what can I do, a poem I can't fake.
So all I have written is truth, my love
I leave it to you whatever you make.

I hope you don't regret what you chose,
A piece of crooked heart, it is no gem.
You will  be mine, if you want it too,
As you are my one and only.... 3 am.

No moss for me

 

No moss dear, no moss

my gatherings are rather sharp

edges and cuts are what shine on

No moss sir, no moss for me

 

A desire this has remained

and my stone heart has in fact

gathered a lot of moss

so it weeps, no moss for me

 

Moss is burden, a cover, a shell

it hides under the pretext of protection!

Have not seen light for ages

so it wants, no moss for me

I tried rolling. I froze

what is it?

the extra weight or did I forget

to roll. No moss for me

 

 

Ah trechery, the world fooled me

Or a fool I was, Moss is gold

I agreed, to regret...too late

too late to have, no moss for me

Blue Love

A deep blue bottle

I mistook for the sea

I though, the tide is high

Gin was speaking to me

Women empowerment, Arse if!

Nirma detergent's TVC shows the lead ladies getting their hands dirty while pushing out an ambulance stuck in a pit - as the men watch.

An ambulance stuck in a pit. Men watching -- some of them taking photographs and some disgusted at the sight of the filth. Four women 'knights', the all-too-familiar Hema, Rekha, Jaya and Sushma - in immaculate, crisp and clean attire - step into the pit to push the ambulance out. The famous jingle lingers in the air.


Is this really women empowerment?

Nirma has come out with a new advertisement, which has been labeled as ‘empowering women’. Sure the women, Hema, Rekha, Jaya and Sushma, are not afraid of getting into the dirt and do the ‘masculine job’ of moving a vehicle.

If we see closely, this advertisement has portrayed women to be free in their movement. Why is it so? Because the women know there is a product called ‘Nirma Washing powder’ and the stains will easily wash off.

Why are men disgusted?

This knowledge seems to be lacking in any man present at the scene in the advertisement and they do not move the vehicle that is stuck. Men are even disgusted at the sight of the mud pool. Hence, once again this advertisement has established who does the washing and who is aware of it. Men are not aware of this product in this advertisement; they don’t bother with such products. It is the woman’s task to keep a tab of these things.

Glorifying minor changes in popular gender roles:

Some of the men show in this advertisement also start clicking pictures of these women. It may seem that women here are being glorified but the truth is these men have never seen anything like this. This is why they are clicking pictures. It is not in the nature of a lady to push a vehicle and if she does so it is strange, heroic and something to be captured. Here again the advertisement is dividing gender roles. A little breach in these roles is glorified and the whole ad is tagged as ‘empowering women’.

Disguise:

Nirma ads have changed over the period of time and have become more damaging than they were before. The ads that used to come clearly showed how washing is a woman’s task. Though this new ad which proclaims to be empowering women has disguised itself in a way that modern educated upper class can fall for it.

Earlier we could still see that this ad is clearly sexist and point it out. The new ads, which in reality are sexist, but proclaim to be empowering are more dangerous.