Gay Bombay: Globalization, Love and (Be)longing in Contemporary India (20 page)

reply.doc

94. Arvind Narrain, op. cit., 2005.

95. ‘SC Notice to Government on Homosexuality’,
Times of India
, 1 April 2005. http://

timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/1067013.cms

96. ‘SC Wants Rethink on Homosexuality PIL: HC had Dismissed NGO’s Plea, Saying Indian Society Not Ready Yet’,
Indian Express,
4 February 2006. http://www.indianexpress.

com/full_story.php?content_id=87254

‘Homosexuality: Govt. Relents’,
Times of India
, 3 February 2006. http://timesofindia.

indiatimes.com/articleshow/1400286.cms

97. ‘Ban on Gays Under Review—Delhi HC to Decide on Validity of Law Against Homosexuality’,
The Telegraph
, 4 February 2006. http://www.telegraphindia.com/1060204/

asp/frontpage/story_5804545.asp

98. See—

‘Backing Gay Rights’,
Times of India
, 17 September 2006. http://timesofindia.

indiatimes.com/articleshow/1998671.cms

‘Dump Anti Gay Law’,
DNA
, 16 September 2006. http://www.dnaindia.com/report.

asp?NewsID=1053440

Namita Bhandare, ‘Time Ripe for Gay Rights’,
Hindustan Times
, 15 September 2006.

http://www.hindustantimes.com/news/181_1798316,0008.htm

Amelia Gentleman, ‘India’s Anti-gay Law Faces Challenge’,
International Herald Tribune,
15 September 2006. http://www.iht.com/articles/2006/09/15/news/india.php Mark Williams, ‘Great and Good Call on India to Scrap Gay Law’,
The Scotsman,
17 September 2006. http://news.scotsman.com/international.cfm?id=1373492006

‘Indian Author Vikram Seth Leads Fight Against Anti-gay Law’,
Khaleej Times,
16 September 2006. http://www.khaleejtimes.com/DisplayArticleNew.asp?xfile=

data/subcontinent/2006/September/subcontinent_September585.xml§ion=

subcontinent

99. ‘Law Against Homosexuality May Go: Health, Home Ministry Aim to Scrap Section 377 of IPC’,
The Hindu
, 27 September 2006. http://www.hindu.com/2006/09/27/

stories/2006092721241700.htm

100. Bhan and Narrain, op. cit., pp. 12–13.

101. INFOSEM’s initial agenda is outlined as follows—(Source—personal email exchange with Ashok Row Kavi, dated 6 November 2003).

(
a
) ‘Work to abolish parts of Section 377 of the IPC that deal with consensual sex between adults, independent of their sexual orientation.

(
b
) Work on very clear formulations of all forms of sexual assault and child sex abuse to be addressed by the law.

(
c
) Make representations to the Constitutional Review Committee (CRC) seeking inclusion of sexual orientation as a group for non-discrimination in Part III of the Constitution of India.

(
d
) Work for the recognition of the transgendered as a third sex in the Constitution of India.

(
e
) Advocate for health awareness and care on a priority basis to fight HIV/AIDS and other STIs among LGBT people.

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(
f
) Help grassroots and emerging groups by providing input and training in conducting research and health, social and legal needs assessment; help in building their skills and resources; provide access to funding for their respective health and associated programmes; and share research and baseline data.

(
g
) Set up consultations for lesbian sexual health and recognize their sexual health needs.

(
h
) To encourage, advocate and work for capacity building of sexual minorities in India’.

102. Arvind Narrain, op. cit., p. 66.

103. Douglas Sanders, op. cit., pp. 38–39.

104. Ibid, p. 37.

105. See Arvind Narrain, op. cit., p. 67. Also Peter Jackson, op. cit., p. 1.

3

Up Close and Personal

The Pleasures and Complications

of Ethnography at ‘Home’

SUGARLESS

It is the smoothness of E’s skin that absolutely fascinates me. I have never
seen anything like it. It is cream in colour and almost transparent—I can see
the blue vein throbbing lightly under one temple and the sharpness of the
Adam’s apple. I am enamoured by its colour and texture that is so different
from the fairness of the other Parsi boys in class. They are all either milky
white and pasty or brown and dusty, just like everyone else. But E is creamy
gold with shining skin that always smells fresh of Mysore Sandal Soap. His
hair is brown, straight and soft and never stays combed, but flays about
his forehead in uncontrolled wisps. Every six weeks, it begins to grow over
his collar at the nape of his neck and shortly after that, he comes back to
school with a ghastly crew cut.

I have been staring at E surreptitiously during class since the beginning
of 8th grade, ever since the class teacher changed our places and made us

‘partners’. We were mere ‘hi…bye’ acquaintances in 7th grade; now the
daily proximity has led to a mutual affinity that includes sharing tiffins in
short breaks, water bottles in case one’s gets over early and compass boxes
during geometry periods. It is the first time during my school life that I
look forward to Monday mornings; I rush out of the BEST bus that I take
to school daily and run up to class so that I can be there before E. Soon he
enters the class with his water bottle dangling around his neck, top button
always open and his tie knot askew. He places his faded brown
‘He Man and the Master of the Universe’
bag next to mine and eases into his seat.

Then our eyes meet and I feel a giant surge of happiness. I want to jump
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up and down and reach out and kiss him and do a hundred cartwheels all
over the school compound, but I avert his eyes and pretend to arrange my
belongings all over ‘my’ part of the desk.

During the Hindi language class, as the teacher drones on and on and all
the students have lowered their eyes to follow the chapter in their textbooks,
my eyes avert to E’s lap and the smooth thighs peering out from the shorts
that were a part of his previous year’s school uniform. His mother has not
stitched him a new uniform set for the 8th yet, though this is the year
that most boys switch to long pants. He has spurted in growth since last
year and now, when he sits in class, his shorts pulled up tightly around his
thighs, there is a tight outline around his crotch that I shamelessly sneak
peek at, whenever I can.

In my 12-year-old mind, I cannot yet comprehend the feelings that I am
developing for E. I have a crush on Suraiya. That I know. She is wonderful to
be with and when she speaks to me, it makes me happy. I blush whenever we
are teased together and it makes me feel respected and appreciated amongst
my friends, even though it is supposedly clandestine. But what am I to do
with my feelings about E? I never stare at Suraiya the same way as I stare
at E—have never thought of her at night and replayed the day’s instances
with her constantly in my memory, never felt the same thrill with her that
I feel every time my leg brushes past E’s as we sit together in class. Not even
when we held hands on top of the giant wheel that we rode together at the
previous year’s annual school fete. I had ‘proposed’ to her and though she
had laughed it away, at least she’d agreed to hold hands, so it had been
nice and all my friends had envied me for days. But with E, it is something
else completely. I just do not know how to explain it.

Fuck. I’ve started to love saying fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck. I wish that I had never started 8th grade. I wish I were back in the
6th. In Muscat, going ice skating on Friday afternoons followed by arcade
games at Sinbad, burgers at Dairy Queen and late night WWF with Hulk
Hogan. I miss all my friends from Indian School—Adrian and Kshitij and
Romil and Vasundhara who I loved defeating for first rank and sports day
and fancy dress and no knowing about shagging or the meaning of fuck
and E has caught me staring at him. When school ends, I ask him if he
wants to come to my place the next day, after school. He says no because
he would like me to come to his place instead. His mom works and only
Up Close and Personal
119

returns back home a few hours after E reaches home. All right, I shrug. We
both look pretty nervous.

We never ever talk about what we do. The first time, at his place, neither
of us actually knows what to do, or how, but we learn soon enough; our
bodies guide the way. Soon, we can’t seem to stop. We’re doing it in the
school bathroom, on the sofa in my house, in his parent’s bedroom on the
dresser, after school… Once during extra French tuition classes, which we
both joined together, we arrive early, and as we wait at the table for the
other students to arrive and for the tuition teacher to descend from her
room on the floor above, we make out under the table. When we emerge,
we realize that the house servant has been watching us from the door. He
has a big grin on his face. He always winks at us after that whenever he
sees us. It embarrasses E no end though I think it’s kind of kinky.

I am on the phone with E. Fourteen years have passed since 8th grade
and I’ve remembered his birthday and have called up to wish him. We drifted
apart after school—I went abroad and he, to the world of architecture.

We managed to meet up once a few years later when I was back in Bombay
and it seemed like just the good old times, laughing, cracking each other
up. He asked me then if I was happy. ‘I guess’, ‘I replied’. ‘Are you’? ‘I guess’,
he repeated. But we never met up again.

He sounds different when he answers the phone this time. Distant. Careful. Emotionless. I have heard that he is engaged to be married but don’t
bring it up, waiting to see if he will, instead. He doesn’t. ‘Please don’t call
me up again’, he states at the end of the conversation. ‘My life is different now’. I am not surprised. Marriage is a different cup of milk. Unlike E’s
immigrant Parsi ancestors from the 8th century, ex-lovers might find it
difficult to dissolve effortlessly. Better instead, to drink it sugarless.

‘All discourse is “placed” and the heart has its reasons’.

—
Stuart Hall
, 19901

ARRIVAL SCENE ONE: DARK STORMY NIGHT

What is ethnography without an arrival scene or two? (Or three?) Cambridge, Massachusetts. December 2003. It is a dark, stormy

night. A chilly wind rattles my dorm windows as the snow swirls around in concentric circles like a dervish. I brew myself a steaming
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Bombay

cup of
masala chai
, cuddle with my laptop and type
gaybombay.org
into my Internet browser. It is strange that I have never visited the site before. The computer screen loads a cluttered white, lavender and pink homepage and I cannot help feeling nostalgic. I love America but at this very moment, I want a delicate
khaara
biscuit to dunk into my
chai
, not an oversized American cookie; I want to see pigeons and taste the sea breeze instead of snowflakes when I go out for a walk, be amidst brown faces and hear the unique cacophony of Bombay languages on the street that Rushdie calls ‘hug-me’ (Hindi, Urdu, Gujarati, Marathi and English) in
The Ground Beneath Her Feet.
2 I want to be home instead of on a homepage.

The website is dense and information-heavy. The homepage has the Gay Bombay logo on the left (the letters
g
and
b
in small case, joined together), with a permanent picture of one of the Gay Bombay kite-flying events and a constantly changing (upon refreshing the page) gay-themed art picture below it. The two images are separated by links with information about Bombay, the gay community at large and the history of the Gay Bombay community. I click on the one titled
About
Gay Bombay
and read…

In the pre-Gay Bombay days, we realized there were many young men who were gay but felt out of place in the gay cultures they stumbled upon. Some groups addressed only sexual needs through solicitation and discussion of sexual conquests. Others saw being gay as an immensely enjoyable

‘side-activity’ to an otherwise heterosexual existence. Still others equated being gay with cross-dressing and being effeminate. And then there were those for whom being gay meant activism, politics and the law. Many young men not belonging to any of these schools of thought went into their shell feeling frustrated, alone and miserable. We chose to address these young men by creating a group that was different. Since the venture was mainly web-based, most of those who participated in the activities belonged to a certain segment of society—this was not intentional. To address the non-web-based community, a personal interaction venture,

‘The Sunday Meets’ was initiated…

Gay Bombay is a self-evolving informal group, a product of like-minded gay people from Mumbai (mainly, but not totally) coming together in good faith to create a safe space for men who are romantically and sexually attracted to men. All of us at Gay Bombay have experienced the joys and sorrows of being ‘different’. We wanted to make things a little easier Up Close and Personal
121

for those who have come after us. So we created this space where gays can—

(
a
) Exchange views using the GB mailing list

(
b
) Participate in (and even help organize) offline GB events (
c
) Meet and interact in broad daylight at GB Meets.