Chennai Gay Pride 2010

Chennai Gay Pride – June 27

It was Chennai Gay Pride yesterday, on the 27th of June, and I went to attend the festival. The event wasn’t as large as I had expected, but it was still significant enough to attract attention from the local community and raise awareness about LGBTQ+ issues. I was expecting at least 1,000–2,000 participants, but the turnout was closer to 400–500. The parade began near the Labor Statue at Marina Beach at 5 PM and lasted for over an hour. It was organized with the support of several organizations working for LGBTQ+ rights in Chennai, with Shakti Center being one of the most prominent names involved.

Foreign participants

The Parade Atmosphere

The participants seemed genuinely happy and energetic, especially those from the LGBTQ+ community. Unlike the Delhi and Mumbai Pride parades, which had loud music and people dancing, Chennai Pride didn’t feature music. Still, participants sang songs in Tamil (which I couldn’t understand), laughed, danced, and hugged each other with joy. I noticed that there were fewer lesbian couples compared to Delhi and Mumbai, and overall the atmosphere felt a little less open. In Delhi and Mumbai, many participants walked hand in hand with their partners, making their relationships visible. In Chennai, however, most people seemed more reserved, perhaps reflecting the city’s more conservative, religious outlook.

People from the organizing committee

Conversations with Organizers

I spoke with one of the organizers who told me that last year’s parade had more people, but many were outside supporters. This year, though the crowd was smaller, more members of the community itself participated—which he considered an important step forward. Since the parade took place at Marina Beach, a popular weekend spot, thousands of locals watched. I handed out pamphlets and masks to curious onlookers. Interestingly, the use of masks was much higher here compared to Delhi and Mumbai. Some participants even wore two or three masks at once to completely cover their faces. When I asked them why, they explained that Chennai is still very conservative, and they didn’t want to risk being recognized.

There were families also

Attitudes and Challenges

Many participants expressed concern about how society perceives them. Some said, “If people see us in the parade, they’ll think we’re gay too.” This showed how stigma and fear of judgment still run deep here. I also spoke to Mr. Annirudhan Vasudevan, one of the parade organizers. He admitted that while the Delhi High Court’s decision to decriminalize same-sex relations had brought some change, it wasn’t enough to transform society. He said, “At least people are talking about it now. They know that something called the LGBTQ community exists and that we too have rights.”

I also think so

Annirudhan stressed that discrimination is widespread across India, and the community needs legal protection, medical care, and equal rights. He also highlighted the tragic case of Prof. Srinivas Siras from Aligarh Muslim University, who was suspended after being filmed in a private moment with a same-sex partner. The humiliation pushed him to take his own life, despite homosexuality being legal. This conversation made me realize how much more progress is needed—not just in laws, but in changing public attitudes.

Mr. Annirudh

The Pride Party

The night before the parade, there was a party at a four-star boutique hotel, Le Waterina, at Kotivakkam Beach. It was the most expensive Pride party I’d attended in India. Entry in Delhi was free, and in Mumbai it was ₹500 with reasonably priced drinks. In Chennai, the entry was ₹500, but drinks were very costly. At the party, I met locals who didn’t even know about the parade but had been invited to the event via SMS. Some hesitated to talk about the parade, reflecting again how cautious people are about revealing their identity. Still, I saw many of them at the parade the next day. One highlight of the party was a male go-go dancer—a first for me. Dressed in shorts and later removing his T-shirt, he performed for over an hour, and the crowd went wild. His presence added a new level of excitement to the celebration.

Go-Go dancer at teh party

Final Thoughts

Despite the challenges, I was glad to be part of Chennai Pride. The event showed both the struggles and the resilience of the community here. I hope that with time, Chennai Pride will grow larger, attract more supporters, and become more open—just like in Delhi and Mumbai. One thing is clear: LGBTQ+ rights will not advance without support from allies. It is our responsibility, as straight people, to stand with the community and help create a more equal world.

My friends and I

More Pics:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/wHjjzmTWsTcVn2xVA

Mumbai Gay Pride 2009

I attended Mumbai Gay Pride on August 16th. This date was chosen because the organizers of the event, from the gay community, decided to celebrate their freedom one day after India’s Independence Day on August 15th. They felt that while India gained freedom on that day, the gay community had yet to achieve their own freedom. The event was organized by an NGO called Humsafar, which works with the gay community in Mumbai. I had already been in touch with Humsafar about my project, and they were very welcoming. Although I was in Gwalior for training, I took a 4-day leave and flew to Mumbai, arriving on the night of the 14th.

 

I had attended this year’s Delhi Pride on June 26th and missed having a video camera. This time, I arranged for one to record the Mumbai Gay Pride. I asked my friend Yogesh, who works in Bollywood, to help me get a camera, and he provided everything I needed. On the 16th, I went to Humsafar with a cameraman and a friend from the US named Ryan, whom I had invited to join me at Mumbai Pride. My goals were to cover the parade preparations, interview a few people at Humsafar and at the parade, participate in the event, enjoy the party, and make new contacts for future collaborations.

I was scheduled to start interviews at Humsafar at noon, but upon arrival, I found several media personnel already interviewing their team. However, they arranged for someone to show me around their office, which was impressive. They had an HIV and AIDS testing center, which I had not seen in other NGOs before. The Humsafar representative took me to the second floor where preparations for the next day’s parade were underway. About 20 people, including some hijras, were practicing dances. They had a drummer playing Punjabi dhol and a large sound system. I was surprised to see them practicing traditional hijra dance.

I spent some time observing the preparations; the enthusiasm and hard work of the performers were evident. The performers were either homosexuals or hijras who sought assistance from Humsafar. The office representative informed me that the CEO of Humsafar, Mr. Vivek Raj Anand, had just arrived and offered me the opportunity to interview him. I felt fortunate to have a 15-minute interview with him, during which he demonstrated his deep knowledge and commitment to the issues.

I believe the gay community has always existed in India, but many view it as a foreign concept. Therefore, when interviewing people about gay culture, I ask about its history in India and its presence in Hindu religious texts. I believe that understanding its historical and religious context can make it easier for people to accept and support it. My goal was to interview people and share these interviews online. I conducted the interviews in Hindi to ensure that people in India could understand them. During the interviews, one interviewee shared stories from the Ramayana and other Hindu texts that indicated the presence of gay culture even during Ram’s time.

He discussed the challenges he faced, societal discrimination, and his hopes for the future. It was enlightening to learn about the history of gay culture in India, especially within Hinduism. Mr. Anand expressed interest in having me work with the MSM (men who have sex with men) community in Benares. He offered to help with funding or projects through the UP government, which was something I was eager to pursue. However, he mentioned that Humsafar does not operate outside Mumbai and Thane districts. They could provide support such as funding or training but would not extend their work beyond these areas.

Since my NGO, Sanjeevani Booti, was not yet registered under section 12A, I would not be able to collaborate with him soon. However, Sanjeevani Booti has now completed its first year, so I can apply for this registration. Mr. Anand also mentioned his gratitude to Baba Ramdev on behalf of the gay community. Baba Ramdev challenged the Delhi High Court’s judgment on Section 377 in the Supreme Court of India. Mr. Anand believed the Supreme Court would soon rule in favor of the gay community, leading to equal rights. I share his appreciation for Baba Ramdev’s efforts.

I interviewed Mr. Anand, the manager of Humsafar, one bisexual individual, two hijras, and a few gay men. It was a valuable experience hearing their stories. Despite their different backgrounds, they faced similar issues, primarily discrimination. The Humsafar manager shared his struggle to obtain a passport with a gender marker reflecting his identity as a female or hijra. Government officials were unfamiliar with the concept of transgender identities, and he had sued the government over this issue. He is currently preparing for a gender change operation but faces obstacles due to the lack of a passport.

I also interviewed a Muslim gay man with two hijras. This was my first interview with a Muslim gay individual. He shared that his family would never accept his desire to marry a man, leaving him with the choice to either escape or remain unmarried. The hijras provided fascinating insights into their community, revealing that there are two types of hijras, each with different customs and levels of respect. I had always been confused about the distinction between “hijra” and “gay.” The hijras explained that educated people use the term “gay,” while uneducated people use “hijra.” They also discussed the challenges faced by the hijra community in India, which mirrored those faced by others I interviewed.

They mentioned the existence of two types of hijras: those who marry a hijra goddess and can live with their families, and those who bless and dance at weddings. One of the bisexual interviewees was a male sex worker. It was my first encounter with a male sex worker, and our conversation was eye-opening. He recounted his experiences and challenges, including an amusing story about mistakenly offering condoms to a policeman. The first day focused on observing preparations and conducting interviews at Humsafar. After finishing the interviews, we waited for an auto-rickshaw when I met Sourendra, a 25-26-year-old who was also gay and frequented Humsafar. We went to a litti-chokha (a famous Bihari food) party with my friend and interviewed Sourendra over dinner at 1 a.m.

I regretted bringing Sourendra to the party because his presence attracted unwanted attention from other guests. Despite the discomfort, Sourendra was open and energetic, discussing his experiences with discrimination and societal expectations. He shared an intriguing story about the existence of gays and hijras during Krishna’s time, which I had never heard before. After the parade, my friend Bijay took me to a renowned restaurant near August Kranti Marg. Following a few beers, we went to Bijay’s hotel and later to a party at a disco. The Mumbai party was distinct from the Delhi party, being organized by participants rather than the parade organizers.

Despite the Rs. 500 entry fee, the party was lively and had a larger turnout, including more lesbian couples. I drank too much and got drunk, witnessing many gay couples showing affection. The Mumbai Gay Pride seemed more organized compared to Delhi’s. There was a van with banners, posters, masks, and t-shirts, though the t-shirts sold out quickly. They also distributed bottled water and had volunteers collecting trash, making it a cleaner event. Many people watched the parade from their balconies, and some joined spontaneously. The Mumbai parade featured more transgenders and hijras than Delhi’s, with a group performing traditional hijra dance.

The parade ended at August Kranti Marg with speeches from social workers and NGO members about gay rights and future plans. I also interviewed a gay couple at the beach nearby. Regarding Section 377’s repeal, I found that everyone I spoke to was happy about it. A participant explained that such laws are crucial for societal change, and while Section 377 did not directly impact gay culture, it altered societal attitudes over time. With its repeal, there is hope for equal rights in the future, even if it may take decades. After the parade, Bijay and I went to a disco party. The Mumbai party, organized by participants, had a higher turnout and was different from Delhi’s.

Although I had to leave early for a 6 a.m. flight back to Bhopal, the party was memorable. Ryan helped me pack and get to the airport. Despite the craziness, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip, meeting new people, learning about their experiences, and establishing connections with Humsafar. They have invited me to the parade next year, and I plan to attend. My friend Sanjay, who initially thought my project was crazy, changed his perspective after hearing the interviews. He now supports equal rights for gays.

The stories I shared about gay culture in Hindu religion helped shift his view. I believe that if more people learn about the historical presence of gays in Hindu culture, acceptance will grow. The main issue behind discrimination against gays in India is a communication gap, especially regarding sex practices, compounded by the 150 years of Section 377. This law deeply affected societal attitudes, but historically, gay practices were part of Hindu culture. The British altered everything, and as we slowly address the issues they left behind, I hope we can also overcome this outdated system.

Delhi Gay Pride 2009 – parade

I attended the Delhi Gay Pride on the 26th and was thrilled to experience it firsthand. Having heard so much about the vibrant and festive nature of gay pride festivals, I was eager to see it for myself. I arrived in Delhi on the 24th, and Adam and Megan joined me for the parade. Although they had initially planned to go to Benares, they changed their flights to come to Delhi and be part of the event with me.

They had arranged for band performances to provide music. When I arrived, around two thousand people were already present. I asked the organizer about the expected turnout, and he mentioned that while last year they had anticipated about 500 attendees, they ended up with around 1500. This year, they were hoping for about 2500 participants. He also noted that media support had been strong the previous year and was expected to be similar this year. Indeed, there were numerous media representatives covering the event. The police were also present, though it was unclear whether their assistance was a formal obligation or a voluntary act of support, but they were definitely helping.

I spent my time wandering around and observing the festivities. Initially, I had planned to speak with the participants, but once I arrived and saw how joyful and immersed they were in the celebration, I decided against interrupting them. What struck me the most was that the parade included not just gay individuals, but also many straight people and families. There were numerous foreigners as well. I spoke with a few of them about their reasons for attending, and they all gave similar responses—primarily, they were there to support the cause.

The organizing committee had provided masks for those who wished to conceal their identities, and many participants, including straight people and families, chose to use them. While I understand that gay culture is still not fully accepted in India, which might explain why some in the LGBTQ+ community wore masks, I was puzzled by the presence of masks among straight participants. If they were so reluctant to be seen, I questioned why they were participating at all. I believe that it’s important for everyone to step forward and openly support the cause; only through such visibility and advocacy can the gay community in India achieve the recognition and acceptance it deserves.

I overheard some LGBTQ+ individuals speaking with the media. When asked about their experiences, they all shared similar sentiments: they feel ridiculed and believe they lack equal rights. As the parade began, the atmosphere was charged with energy, joy, and happiness. The band had started playing, and everyone was in high spirits. Many people danced with their partners, while others danced alone, waving the rainbow flag high. The parade was scheduled to start at 5 PM, but as with many things in India, it was delayed. This was the first time I didn’t mind the delay.

Finally, around 5:45 PM, the parade began. The vibrant energy, joy, and happiness I witnessed were only matched by a previous experience I had in Mehndiganj in 2007 during a rally against Coca-Cola. There was loud music, people jumping, shouting, dancing, and laughing—it was exhilarating. The atmosphere and the people filled me with an incredible sense of energy. A massive rainbow flag, carried by nearly twenty people, was a highlight of the parade. They jumped and danced with it, creating a stunning visual effect. The music was vibrant, and the whole scene was absolutely exhilarating.

The participants of the parade were very modern and liberal in their attire. Many had customized masks, caps, hats, and outfits. I saw several girls dressed in just shorts and bras, adorned with tattoos—something quite uncommon in India. The hijras also attended, dressed in a way that was noticeably different from their usual attire. As the parade began to move, more and more people joined in. A large number of students arrived, and by this point, the crowd had swelled to around 3,000 participants. Many onlookers stood along both sides of the road, watching the parade with interest.

I noticed people emerging from restaurants and shops, eagerly joining the festivities. The participants carried a variety of banners, posters, and flyers, each with different slogans emblazoned on their clothing and bodies. Many participants had their faces painted in vibrant rainbow colors. I had brought around 100 HIV & AIDS educational pamphlets to distribute among the crowd, and Adam and Megan kindly helped me with this task. We handed out the pamphlets quickly, but I noticed an interesting pattern: while some people were hesitant to take a pamphlet, others were very eager. A few individuals even approached us specifically asking for one.

One elderly man took a pamphlet and returned to Adam, expressing a desire to discuss the material inside. Adam asked the elderly man to speak with me, and he approached me with a question. He asked if I worked in HIV & AIDS, to which I confirmed. He then inquired if I supported the gay community and gay rights, and I affirmed that I did. However, he raised a surprising point. He questioned how I could support gay rights while working on HIV & AIDS, asserting that gays are responsible for the spread of HIV worldwide. His tone was somewhat agitated, and while I wanted to engage in a discussion about his perspective, the parade was moving, so I handed him my business card and suggested we continue the conversation at a later time.

He never reached out to me again, but it was disheartening to hear him blame the gay community for the spread of HIV & AIDS. While it’s true that gay men are at a higher risk of contracting HIV compared to heterosexual individuals, that doesn’t mean they are solely responsible for its spread. Many argue that gay people often practice safer sex compared to straights. I believe that the Indian government’s handling of HIV & AIDS programs and the corruption within the public health sector play a larger role in the spread of the disease, rather than the gay community itself.

I also spoke with a gay man who was interviewed by a journalist. He mentioned that he had been in a gay relationship for the past five years and was proud of it. He pointed out that gay individuals are often more knowledgeable about safe sex and STDs than heterosexuals, highlighting that education and awareness are crucial in managing health risks. The journalist asked him if he had informed his family about his sexuality, and he shared that while his father was aware, his mother sometimes referred to him as part of the hijra community. It’s clear that many people still confuse gays with hijras, not understanding the differences between them.

When the parade reached Jantar Mantar, it came to a stop for a series of speeches by social activists, gay rights supporters, NGO representatives, and a few participants. Some of those who had been wearing masks during the parade removed them when they took the stage. It was striking to see the shift in their demeanor—from being shy earlier to confidently expressing themselves in front of the crowd. The change in their confidence was palpable and marked a powerful moment of visibility and solidarity. The speakers declared loudly that they were no longer shy and were proud to be gay.

The speeches covered various topics, including Section 377 and other LGBTQ+ rights issues. As a symbolic gesture, the organizer invited everyone to light a candle. I joined in and lit a candle myself. With the parade concluded, the focus shifted to the party, which was set to begin at 9:30 PM at M Lounge bar in Sector 15, Noida. It was around 7 o’clock, and the organizers asked participants to regroup at 8:30. They had arranged several buses to transport everyone to the party venue. I was eagerly looking forward to the celebration.

The God got sick :)

Yesterday was an important day for the Jagannath Temple to celebrate a festival called Rathyatra. People from all over India visit the temple to participate in a ritual where the deity is bathed with water throughout the day. It is believed that by evening, the deity becomes unwell due to the prolonged bathing. Typically, sweets are offered in temples, but once the deity is said to be sick, offerings change to parwal (a type of vegetable) and basil soup. This soup is then distributed among the people as a blessing. Following this offering, the temple is closed for the next fifteen days.

Parwal and basil soup is an Ayurvedic remedy commonly prescribed for cold and cough. The idea is that this medicinal soup will help the deity recover. During these fifteen days, the temple gate remains closed, except for a daily opening to offer the basil and parwal soup. After the fifteen days, it is believed that the deity will have recovered, and the statue is taken out of the temple on a chariot and brought to Lord Jagannath’s Sasural (in-law’s) temple near Rathyatra, to allow the deity a period of respite after the illness.

In Benares, the deity is taken to the Sasural temple, while in Puri, the statue is brought to Lord Jagannath’s aunt’s temple. The statue remains there for two days, after which a large fair is organized. In Benares, the statue is paraded on a chariot and placed on the main road near Rathyatra Crossing for three days. After the fair concludes, the statue is returned to the temple. These are the only three days in the year when the Jagannath Temple in Benares is without its statue. This festival is known as Rathyatra.

While the fair in Benares is significant, it is not as large as the one in Puri, which is enormous. Last year, over ten million people attended the Puri fair.

Sex worker children rights rally

I participated in a rally organized by Durbar to advocate for the rights of children of sex workers. The rally began at Durbar’s office in Sonagachi, a well-known red-light district. Seranna, the rest of the crew, and I arrived at the office around 6:30 in the evening. The rally was scheduled to start at 7:00, and we were all very excited. Upon arriving, I noticed hundreds of policemen stationed around the office. At first, I was concerned, but it turned out they were there to ensure our safety. By that time, about 3,000 people were already gathered, most of them children of sex workers. They were lined up and holding various banners, ready for the event.

There were also many Hijras and transgender individuals present. A group of children of sex workers was set to lead the rally with music and dance, which I found to be a fantastic addition. The rally kicked off around 7 o’clock, and by then, there were approximately 5,000 people in attendance, making it a massive event. Starting from Durbar’s office, the rally meandered through the narrow alleys of Sonagachi, the largest red-light district in India. Seranna and I were at the front, enthusiastically cheering alongside the children of sex workers.

Just a few minutes into the march, we reached the heart of the red-light district. Sex workers were visible everywhere—on the streets, on the rooftops of brothels, and peering out from their windows. Despite being well-dressed, their unhappiness and ill health were palpable. None of them wanted their pictures taken; they would immediately turn away upon seeing a camera. This reaction was disheartening and underscored their fear of exposure, which is a direct result of their marginalization and separation from society. It was a reality I hadn’t fully anticipated.

I also took a look inside some of the brothels, and what I saw was hard to believe. The conditions were appalling—filthy beyond imagination, with no proper ventilation and bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. The grim state wasn’t limited to just the brothels; the entire neighborhood was in a state of severe disarray. Many of the people I saw appeared to be drug users, visibly suffering from physical and mental ailments. It felt like a scene from a third-world country. Although I was aware that Indian sex workers face harsh conditions, I had no idea it was this dire. I had previously seen some brothels in Varanasi and nearby districts, but this experience made me realize just how extreme the situation can be.

Children of sex workers

The conditions in the brothels are deplorable: there is no proper ventilation, inadequate food, and no access to healthcare. The workers are confined to the brothels and, despite these harsh conditions, they barely make a decent living. In India, sex work is extremely undervalued. Some of the sex workers I interviewed for the documentary revealed that they sometimes charge as little as Rs. 50 per customer, from which they have to give half to the brothel owner. It was a grim situation. We handed out many pamphlets detailing the rights of sex workers and their children, but I couldn’t understand the content as it was all written in Bengali.

Children carrying banners

One intriguing observation was the prevalence of effeminate behavior among the children of sex workers in the cultural program and parade. Many of them identified as hijras or exhibited effeminate mannerisms. They would sometimes sing hijra songs. I had heard from sex workers and locals in Kolkata that children of sex workers are often abused by their mothers’ clients, which might explain their effeminate tendencies. While I’m unsure of the exact reasons, such a large concentration of hijras and effeminate individuals from one neighborhood is unusual in my society.

Women hiding their face from camera

Many locals in Kolkata informed me that some clients visit brothels and request young children. The brothel owners exploit this demand by forcing the children of sex workers, sometimes as young as 6 or 7, into sexual acts. This often happens without the mothers’ knowledge or consent. Even if they find out, they are powerless to stop it. The children are repeatedly subjected to sexual abuse whenever a client requests a young child. It’s heartbreaking to learn about the exploitation of sex workers and their children.

Participants at the rally

Some people suggested that because the children of sex workers spend most of their time with their mothers, are isolated from male influences, and are often abused, it can affect their development and lead to effeminacy. I can’t say for certain if this is true, but it might be partially accurate. Despite these challenges, the children were wonderful with their dancing and music, and some of them played the drums as well. Midway through the rally, we were joined by the renowned hijra activist Laxmi Narayan Tripathi, who is well-known for representing hijras and transgender individuals across Asia.

Some more banners

She was brimming with energy and enthusiasm for the rally. She jumped, clapped, danced, and shouted with such fervor—it was incredibly fun to watch. I thoroughly enjoyed being part of it. I joined in the dancing and tried my best to sing along to their Bengali songs, though I struggled with the pronunciation. I especially enjoyed when they sang the Hindi song “Hum Honge Kamyab” (We Will Be Successful), and I sang along with them. It was a truly amazing experience to be with these children fighting for their rights. Eventually, we reached a large park where the parade concluded. Various speakers took the stage to share their thoughts and address the community.

Participants at the rally

A few sex workers, social activists, and Laxmi addressed the crowd. They vowed to continue fighting for their rights with unwavering determination. The rally concluded, and we had caused a significant traffic jam. I thoroughly enjoyed the event, from the spirited participation of the sex workers’ children to the overall atmosphere of the rally. I am certain that I will return next year to support them again.

Laxmi Narayan Tripathi addressing the rally