When Love is a Crime

The Indian Supreme Court's ruling that overturned the landmark Delhi High Court verdict is a re-iteration of India's age old cultural stand against freedom of choice when it comes to one's personal life, more specifically... sex life. Interfering in other people's sex lives is a national pass time. We love to decide who other people should marry/have sex with. So in most Indian marriages, instead of Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, it is a case of Sab Ne Bana Di Jodi!

Sab Ne Bana Di Jodi

This is probably a cycle of abuse. Somebody else forced us into loveless sex, so lets do the same with others. Why should sex be a source of joy for somebody else, when it is a source of discomfort, boredom or pain for us? As a social collective, we are all survivors of passive sexual abuse and therefore perpetuate the cycle by punishing others.

We can't feel happy for others, especially when the source of their joy is a fulfilling sex life! We hate happy couples, straight or gay! Khap Panchayats, political goons, religious communities routinely bump off straight couples for the exact same reason they oppose homosexuality... They find it immoral for two consenting adults to discover joy in exploring each other's bodies. They equate love with lust and label all relationships that have not been designed/permitted by families/communities as immoral.

Equality?

So straight or gay, we are in this together! We have to fight for the Right To Love and this right has to be for everyone, irrespective of their gender. The current government is unlikely to take any bold legislative steps in an election year. Moreover, sexual minorities are not an important vote bank.

I'll go to bed with a heavy heart tonight, knowing that in my country, marital rape is legal, but sex between two consenting adults of the same gender is not. Since, when is love against the order or nature? In the land of the Kamasutra, why is love a crime?

He, She or Just Me

There was always something reassuring about Rituparna Ghosh’s movies. No matter how they ended, they always seemed to say, “It’s OK to be different.” His movies were a reflection of him and were therefore all about finding the courage to fight for what you believe in, regardless of the consequences.  

Many of his characters took on the challenge that Ghosh had made his life’s mission… to question the stereotypes perpetuated by the gender binary. These characters did it with such dignity and grace that after a point you looked at them just as people, not men or women, just human beings with dreams and extraordinary strength.

Meanwhile speculation is ripe that Sujoy Ghosh could step into Rituda’s shoes to finish Satyanweshi, a film based on one of Bengal’s favourite detectives, Byomkesh Bakshi. This is his last film, but that shouldn’t stop you from revisiting some of his best work.

Our pick is Ar Ekti Premer Golpo where Rituda plays two characters, a jatra actor who has spent a lifetime playing female characters and a gay filmmaker who is making a film based on the actor’s life. The film is a rare treat where you also get to see the legendary Chapal Bhaduri play himself. Rituparno plays the younger Chapal and the director Abhiroop. The film is a discovery of every element of one’s identity personal, social and sexual.

Ar Ekti Premer Golpo shines like a tiny flame atop a fast melting candle in a dark old crumbling house braving against a crushing storm. It is bright as a beacon of hope, yet vulnerable to its life being snuffed out by one strong gust of wind.

Rituparno Ghosh, you will be missed.

The Truth About Harrish Iyer

6000 e-mails, 1200 smses, 200 BBM messages, almost 500 calls… and still counting… That’s what the first 48 hours were like for Harrish Iyer after the Satyamev Jayate episode featuring him was first telecast this Sunday. Needless to say, it is all very overwhelming, for Harrish is a very simple man, not the publicity hungry media whore he is made out to be. Yes he has a publicist and a manager in me, but that’s because it is humanly impossible to keep track of the vast deluge of correspondence and media invitations he receives.

It all started as soon as Harrish appeared on Satyamev Jayate. Within minutes our phones started ringing. His friends, my friends, the press… There was a flood of BBM messages, Facebook and Twitter came alive. And then the e-mails started pouring in… an overwhelming majority from people who wrote in to say they were survivors too. Harrish diligently replied to as many as he could, but after a while it started to take a toll on him. Reading message after message where people… complete strangers bare their heart to you about their suffering… it gets to you… and sometimes the best thing to do is take a break.

I decided to take him out for lunch, and we headed for the food court of a mall nearby. We ate in silence for a while for that is what he craved most… there was too much going on in his head and he needed to calm down… We shared a Pav Bhaji pizza and a bottle of cola and decided to just walk to clear our heads and figure out a way to deal with the present situation. And that is when I saw how far Harrish is willing to push himself for what he believes in.

For those who think Satyamev Jayate was Harrish’s first TV appearance, let me give you the low down. Harrish has been speaking up for fellow survivors of Child Sexual Abuse for over a decade now. He has been on talk shows hosted by the likes of Barkha Dutt and Richa Anirudh. 


He has also given several print and radio interviews and has been counselling fellow survivors for over 10 years. It is not easy… to go back into the darkest part of your life and relive it, just so that you can help another survivor confront his worst demons. Harrish has been walking what many would describe as nothing short of a mental minefield, only so he can carry others on his shoulders and deliver them to the other side.

At the mall people first stole glances at him, then started pointing, then someone developed the courage to walk upto him and shake his hand. Then one by one nearly 50 people walked up to him to introduce their families and children to him, to take pictures with him. Harrish patiently obliged, but asked them for exactly one thing in return… that they promise to educate their children about CSA.

Even now, Harrish’s work is far from over. The restless soul that he is, Harrish is now planning to hold awareness campaigns in schools, housing societies and public spaces. So if you want Harrish Iyer to speak to speak to parents and children in your school or neighbourhood, or if you are a mall manager/PR, please get in touch with me, Deborah Grey on greyfrost1013@gmail.com

We are prepared to do whatever it takes to prevent a child from confronting the horrors that Harrish did. If that means more media whoring, more appearances on TV and radio, more interviews to websites and publications... then so be it!

And while I'm still in my Maa Durga avatar... let me kill one more demon that has raised it's ugly head... the Demon of Doubt... Many people doubt the genuineness of Harrish's story. They think that he took 11 long years to break the cycle of abuse because he is gay and was probably enjoying the abuse.

Well first of all, YES... Harrish Iyer is gay! So what? He DID NOT enjoy the abuse. No 7 year old would enjoy forced anal sex! Also, homosexuality and sexual abuse are not connected in ANY WAY! Harrish was born gay... just like I was born straight! Homophobia has to be wiped out! People don't become gay after being sexually abused! Get your facts right and stop this mud-slinging campaign against Harrish Iyer or for that matter even Aamir Khan! 

The entire team of Satyamev Jayate has worked very hard to ensure that the subject of CSA was dealt with in a very sensitive way. And nobody willingly withheld information about Harrish's sexuality. The show was about Child Sexual abuse and not Homosexuality. Just as no body would introduce Deborah Grey as a straight journalist, why should anyone be expected to introduce Harrish Iyer as a gay activist?

It's time we looked deep within ourselves and killed the Demons of Doubt that plague our souls... 

When I'm gone...

"What will happen to him when I'm gone?"
Sounds like the familiar melancholy refrain of every Hindustani Maa about her son. Our Mother Indias don't trust their sons to look after themselves. Infact this is perhaps the root cause of most Saas-Bahu khit-pits.
"That is not his favourite Sunday T-shirt!"
"That's not how he likes his poha!"
"Did you add two spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee?!"
Mothers-in-law seldom trust their daughters-in-law to be able to look after their sons after the Saas breathes her antim saans!
But mothers of straight sons can at least leave their pyaara puttars in the (however seemingly inadequate) care of their bahus. What happens if your son is gay? 
This fear was written large over the faces of many mothers at a Gay Bombay meet I recently attended. The law still prohibits same sex marriages, thus leaving many homosexual couples with only two options. Either defy society and move in together or live, grow old and die alone. 
Adoption laws also don't help. A man can't adopt a baby girl and a gay man cannot adopt a baby boy. While the intention of our law makers is only to protect children from abuse, it leaves most gay couples childless, unless they opt for surrogacy. The law of the land, unwittingly or by design, punishes gay men by making it almost impossible for them to have a happy family life.
It takes me back to that scene in Mrs. Doubtfire where Robin Williams tells children about different kinds of families... "Some have a mommy and a daddy. Some have just a mommy or just a daddy. Some only have grand parents..." It would be prudent to extend the scope and include families with two mommies or two daddies.
Gender doesn't define families or hold them together... Love does.

Ek Akeli Jawaan Ladki

It's tough being a single 29 year old in a city like Mumbai... Try finding a house (bigger than a 1BHK) on rent, saying you want it all to yourself, and everyone from the broker, to the home owner, to the neighbours would 'advise' you to share the apartment. Do they fail to understand the concept of personal space? Is it inconceivable to them that a young single woman would be willing and able to spend that kind of money? Or is it something more sinister... the presumption that a well paid single woman, who is unwilling to share her personal space... is a hooker? They will either refuse to give you the house saying they are looking for a family, or in the unlikelihood that they do rent out their house to you... notice how each watchman, liftman, newspaper boy, domestic help, neighbour and sundry auntyjis will keep a hawk's eye on your male visitors.

I live in a luxurious 2BHK in an upmarket neighbourhood. Given that my house is on a higher floor with a breath-taking view, and that the resident demographic appears to consist mainly of young, well educated, urban, rich couples with small or no kids, I thought they would be open minded. I have my own business and on most days, I work from home. I have clients, friends and other sundry visitors coming in throughout the day and most of them are men.

Given that I am newly single and have a healthy sex life, I also have male visitors after daylight hours. One of my male visitors, Mr. Hotness, who was a permanent fixture in my bedroom in my previous home, visited me for the first time in my new home this weekend. He was not only going to spend the night, but also drop in frequently and at all kinds of un-Godly hours. I had to prep the building security guys about this. So I decided to go down to greet him at the reception desk in the lobby.

"Aaj sign kar raha hai, aage se jab bhi aaye aane dena... Mera bhai hai," I lied with a straight face. Thank God, Mr. Hotness did not raise an eyebrow or do anything to blow his cover. After all, it was already well past 10pm. Two auntyjis shared the elevator with us on the ride up to my floor. I could almost hear their thoughts, "Shakal se toh bhai nahi lagta... Raat ke 10 baje ke baad, paraaya mard ghar aaya!" Luckily they did not ask me anything.

Once inside the house, Mr. Hotness burst into peals of laughter as he hastily took off his pants. "You think anybody would buy that I'm your brother? Honey, we look NOTHING like each other!", he said with a characteristic twinkle in his eye that never failed to melt my insides. I promptly shut him off with a bar of sinful dark chocolate and went about fixing his drink. I led him into my bedroom, where we spent the rest of the night in a whirlwind of sexual fantasies, dirty talk and alcohol. Exhausted we both fell into a dreamless sleep.

The morning after is always tricky... We had to maintain a distance in front of the domestic help and this was going to be tough as we both woke up only when she rang the door bell. There was no time to set up a sleeping arrangement in the living room to make it look like Mr. Hotness had spent the night on the couch in the living room. Plus he is usually a little lost and disoriented in the morning, so he just stood in my bedroom, blissfully pant-less, scratching his head and stretching his limbs in all his glory in full view of my maid who I quickly led first into the kitchen under the pretext of first washing the utensils. She usually first sweeps and cleans the entire house. I quickly poked my head into the bedroom and hissed menacingly at Mr. Hotness asking him to wear his pants! I popped back quickly into the kitchen and guided my domestic help to the washing area insisting that she wash the clothes first. As she got to work with her back towards me, Mr. Hotness and I quickly transferred a mattress, a bedsheet and a pillow into the living room. He then parked himself in the balcony with a cup of coffee while I went about fixing his hair to make it look a little less like he had fallen out of bed. He wanted to go out and ring the doorbell and enter the house officially, but I knew that the maid had seen his nangi-pungi angdaai!

The maid finally 'officially' saw him when I asked her to leave without sweeping or cleaning, saying I was expecting some students who would anyway dirty the apartment. She gave Mr. Hotness one last questioning look and left without a word. We then promptly went back to the bedroom and stayed there for most part of the day, except when he followed me into the kitchen and looked lovingly at me while I cooked his breakfast. (What can I say, woh mere andar ki aurat ko jaga deta hai!)

There was no dearth of verbal and non verbal communication. He is quite an intellectual and can hold his own in controversial debates. We talked a lot that day... about how sex should be about pleasure, about why even hookers deserve respect, about how we looked great together... almost like a husband and wife... We even talked about having children!

I finally forced him into the shower and went about fixing his lunch. We ate quietly, with the measured serenity of two people who have spent a lifetime together. I urged him to spend another night with me... there was so much more we could do together... But he left saying he had a family waiting for him at home. He promised to return soon.

As I look at his still wet towel hanging nonchalantly from the arm of a wrought iron garden chair in my balcony, I can't but help myself from picking up the phone, calling him and telling him, "Harrish Iyer... Kabhi toh cheezein sahi jagah par rakh diya kar!"

Yup, my 'after dark male visitor' was none other than BEDARDI BAALAM (a.k.a Harrish Iyer), an Equal Rights Activist who is best known for his quirky campaigns for the rights of Homosexuals. He has also campaigned for the rights of Children, Animals, Homeless People and even Hetrosexuals! The visit was to ideate on and build the website for his campaign for Women's rights. Watch this space for more. What can I say... I'm happy, and he's gay!

And today, April 16th, is his Birthday... Big kiss!

Bachche ki Maa!

I'm not particularly maternal, though many who have seen me in the company of infants, children, sundry young people, would vouch for my ability to become one of them and yet retain a slender but strong element of control. They know they can have fun with me, but they also know that it's always on my terms... Infact, it is this quality that has helped me in both, the newsroom (with interns) and in the classroom (with my Journalism students).

I'm quiet skilled at changing diapers and many pre-teens have benefited from my relationship advice (eg: If he can't deal with your pimples, he doesn't deserve the dimples!). I have always felt protective about young people... They are so vulnerable, one emotional scar is all it takes to turn them into conniving, evil adults! Even at 30 (OK... OK... 29!), many would agree when I say that I have retained my innocence. It is this innocence that makes me look for innocence or its remnants in everyone... cops who ask me to pull over, hoping to make a quick buck from a lady driver, faces hidden behind a thick veneer of make-up in the bylanes of Kamathipura, the sweet-talking political party spokesman, the journalist who once tried to steal my story... I believe... If you dig deep, somewhere we have all retained a part of our innocence, our hearts are horcruxes and our innocence is the last vestige of our fast fading soul...

But one often forgets that it is this innocence that nourishes the depleting soul, it is what keeps us young... it keeps us alive... One innocent remark, a twinkle in the toddler next door's eye, the toothless smile of the old lady selling Oranges on the train... They all have a therapeutic quality... Much like love! Yes... When I'm vulnerable, I allow myself to become... just for a fleeting instant... a helpless romantic!

And on one such occasion, I was caught off-guard by the most romantic question in the world...

"Deborah... Will you bear my child?", he asked me with an unabashed and earnest sincerity...

"Why darling?", I asked... fighting back mutinous tears that stained my cheeks with kohl...

"Deb, you know I can't adopt a girl child as it is against the law for a single man to do so in this country", replied Harrish. "... and I wanna be a father!", he continued in a heartbreakingly measured, calm voice...

"I can hire a surrogate... and I was checking out this website where everything is perfectly legal. Married women from economically backward families are artificially inseminated after getting their approval and also the approval of their families. They are then looked after and given nutritious food during the course of their pregnancy and paid for their services once they deliver the baby. They give a written undertaking relinquishing their right to the child and since I will be the biological father, the baby is legally mine...", he said... hope brimming from the corner of his mouth contorted in the most beautiful mix of pain, hope, fear, happiness and love...

Excited at getting my full attention, he continued... "But Deb, then I thought... why can't I have a baby with you?"

"Hmmm... Let's see Harrish... with your dimples and my wit, we do have a world beating combination... If you father my kids, I can rest assured that they will be sexy little devils, and you can breathe easy as they will be blessed with my linguistic skills!", I said.

We both relished the delicious idea for the one beautiful moment before reality slammed it to bits...

"Harry bunny," I said, "I have two spinal injuries... so bearing babies is a bad idea... But you know what... I'll sign whatever documents required to become the legal mother of your children!"

The optimistic little muffin that Harrish is, this instantly perked him up and he was back to his quirky self, "Matlab... Tu sach me mere bachche ki Maa banegi?"

"Haan... Harrish Iyer... Main tere bachche ki Maa ban-ne ko taiyyar hoon!"

And just like that... we sealed a deal held most sacred in all religions across the world...

Sex and Politics

It's Election Day and all I can think of... is sex! Two of my dear friends are debating if the LGBT Community should start a political party or field independent candidates, who will openly speak up about and address concerns of the community. It is an interesting back and forth on Facebook. I am also a part of the marathon argument (which is technically not an argument, coz we're all saying the same thing!)
Well first, LGBT Community sounds like something from outer space. I thought we were all Mast people! (Remember the slogan at this year's Gay Pride Parade... "I'm Gay! Main Mast Hoon!"). If you want to become a part of the mainstream, shed your 'special interest group' identity.
Next, if you are serious about politics, understand that you have to work for everyone and care about the concerns of hetros too... Personally, I think both, hetros and Mast people have the same concerns. Mumbai potholes don't spare Mast spines and Mast people aren't the only victims of crime and disease.
As far as sex is concerned, it all boils down to the Right To Scr@w (RTS, if you will ;-)) Some people have it, some people don't. Do Mast people think hetros have it easy? Dig deeper into the lives of pados ke Sharma ji, Chaddha sahab, Varma aunty, Kavita Bhabhi... Do you think all is hunky-dory in our great Indian arranged marriages? All your life you are taught not to talk to strangers, then you are expected to sleep with one?! Most Pati-Patnis 'do-the-due' under family/societal pressure, just so that there's someone to carry forward the family name. Almost all pregnancies are unplanned, most kids are the by-products of failed contraception! And that is precisely why we as a society are terrified about talking about sex... coz most people don't enjoy it... It's a chore... a formality... Raat ko attendence lagaani hai!
People don't understand love, passion, pleasure... Romance ki toh waat lagi hai! We are hardwired to believe that we should live to make others happy. Low self esteem is a virtue in out collectivist society. When will people understand, ki hum ek baar jeete hain, ek baar marte hain, aur pyaar bhi sirf ek baar hota hai! When you live double lives you die everyday and you keep falling in and out of something that sure as hell ain't love! Sachchaa pyaar kabhi kurbaaniyaan nahi maangta... maangta hai toh sirf ki tum jiyo... jee bharke!
In short, straight people need to be liberated as much as Mast people! And if we need to take a political stand to sort out our sex lives, I'm all for it!

I'm Gay... Main Mast Hoon!

I'm blessed to count Harish Iyer as one of my closest friends. Most of you know him for his unabashed and tireless campaign for gay rights. To many, he is the face of Gay Pride in Mumbai. Few know that he has a private mini army of female journalists pals who dote on him (and are secretly jealous of his dimples!) I'm one of his many 'Kalam wali Bai' buddies and love it when he wears our friendship on his sleeve, much like his heart.
When we are not busy handling each other's PR, we brainstorm about how to make the world more Gay-friendly. With the 2012 Mumbai Gay Pride Parade just round the corner, Harish and I realised, one of the biggest reasons homosexuality is still discussed in hushed tones by a majority of Indians, is because we think it is a part of Western culture. This is mainly because we don't have one decent word for gay in Hindi. 'Samlaingic' doesn't count as it sounds more like Sanskrit, a bit like the name for some incurable disease. Infact most Indians see homosexuality as some kind of disease and many a religious/spiritual guru has offerred a cure! Most common words used for gay people, like gud, mittha, dheela, fail to convey the meaning. Infact, these are just derogatory words that aim to emphasis how un-manly most gay men are. That got me thinking... What if we came up with one Hindi word that is not offensive, a word that conveys the essence of being gay in a fun and meaningful way, we might just be able to make the concept slightly more relatable. That's when I came up with Mast (like fun... bindaas)... It is nothing but the Hindi translation of the English word 'gay' and it fits!
Also look at the name of the parade... It is the Gay PRIDE Parade... Pride is what you call a group of Lions. The courageous leaps that the Gay community has taken over the last few years, should leave little doubt in anyone's mind, that this is a community of Lion Hearts! Not a herd... not a pack... but a pride...
So from now on, feel proud when you say Main Mast hoon... Sherdil hoon... Gay hoon!

That Woman

It is only right, that I begin my blog with a piece on the woman who inspired its name. Silk Smita made plunging necklines fashionable… she immortalised them… Silk used plunging necklines to wield a power that many before her, had failed to even comprehend. 


She wasn’t the first woman to use her sexuality to get attention, but she was certainly one of the most memorable… for she was fully aware of its raw power and she used it unabashedly. The intent was always there… her eyes were always more naked than her bosom… Every bust-thrust was deliberate, every gyration pre-meditated. 


I remember first watching her in Sadma, wondering what was someone like her doing in a ‘serious’ movie. As I grew older and watched many of her other gems, usually on late night cable TV, I understood where her real power came from. It was her unique ability to be an enigma even when she was stark naked. They don’t make them like that anymore. 

I hope Vidya Balan doesn’t let her down. The promos of The Dirty Picture look promising, but I’m going to reserve comments till I see the film. Meanwhile, I hope this blog does justice to the memory of Silk Smita… Plunging Necklines will be as wholesome, as lust-inducing and as stark as one of the most powerful women of our times. Here’s to a gutsy gal. 


May you rest in peace.