I am Lesbian, and Yesterday Meant Nothing To Me

Yesterday, when the verdict on Section 377 started coming in, I was at work. I had been following its movements since a couple of months, but because work has been especially hectic of late, I didn’t know when the judgment was expected. I only realised it when a couple of friends sent me congratulatory messages filled with unicorns, glitter, rainbows, the red dancing girl emoji, and GIFs to the same effect. It was sweet of them to do so. I said my thanks but I knew that yesterday’s rulings would have no impact on my life whatsoever. Even though I identify as lesbian.

Don’t get me wrong. What happened yesterday was monumental. Way overdue. A bit baffling that it took so long to get to something so basic, but brilliant nonetheless. And I almost cried looking at the people celebrating in the streets and those showing popular support all over my Instagram and Twitter feeds. What I am saying is that it doesn’t change my life at all. And that’s possibly true for a lot of us.

Even when, a decade ago, I mentally accepted the fact that I am attracted to girls, I knew that my parents would never be okay with my sexuality. I come from what I think is a relatively progressive upper middle class Gujarati family in Mumbai. I have never been ‘given permission’ to work—it’s been assumed I will give my career its due importance, which is more than I can say for some other families in my community. They’re even proud of how successful I am as an investment advisor, telling everyone who will listen about my promotions or bonuses. I was given top-class education, am free to travel wherever and whenever I want to, and stay out late into the night. I enjoy my drinks even when it’s more of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ situation at home when it comes to alcohol, which is perfectly fine with me.

But the idea of who I am dating or would marry is another thing altogether. I am 28. For the past four years, my parents have arranged for me to meet a string of Gujarati boys with the hope that I will like one of them, magically fall in love with him, and want his babies. I have been in a steady relationship since the past couple of years with a girl who is a student at an IIM. But I have gone ahead and met these boys just to keep up the illusion. They would then be rejected as too bizarre or too boring or too *insert an adjective here*.

You see, my parents mean everything to me. I love them to bits. And they love me too. But them accepting me as lesbian is just not a possibility. I am not being defeatist or negative. I just know that’s the truth. I know their thought patterns and where they come from, and this is not a reality in their worlds by a long shot. The idea of ‘what will the world say?’ is so deeply entrenched in their psyche that they might not stop loving me, but they will self-inflict grief to such a degree that I will not be able to take it.

And honestly, I don’t blame them. This is who they are, and while they have broken through a lot of outdated traditions and rebelled in their own ways, they have not been able to come this far. The fact that Modi who has tweeted thrice since yesterday has not even acknowledged this groundbreaking change is taken in my parents’ passively pro-BJP worlds as something that is too trivial to bother sparing a thought about. Plus, my closest friends and cousins know of my orientation, so it’s not like I felt the need to tell anyone about it yesterday.

The law also doesn’t mean much for me because booking a hotel room for my girlfriend and me, or travelling with her, or hugging her in public or giving her a peck on the cheek has never been an issue. That’s one thing I feel grateful about when it comes to being a girl in India—noone raises an eyebrow when girls do the above mentioned things. Sure, I might be less worried about cops in plainclothes catching us making out, but that’s the extent to which yesterday’s history-making verdict affects me. My girlfriend who comes from a much smaller town and a very different background shares my sentiments as well.

Now, can I go back to my work, please?