Tag: homosexuality

Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I am writing a review on a movie that has me super stoked. I saw Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan yesterday night. It lived up to its hype in my head. Of course, I have seen better movies dealing with gay issues and gay lives. But most of these movies come from abroad. We have had brilliant movies like My Brother, Nikhil and Aligarh that touch upon LGBTQIA lives sensitively, but an all and out romantic comedy that deals with a very proud, out-of-the-closet gay man – never! Very recently, we have had Ek Ladki Ko Dekha To Aisa Laga, with such a brilliant script and supporting cast. But let’s admit it, though I have the greatest respect and admiration for Sonam Kapoor who takes on the role of a lesbian, and makes her the lead in a movie dealing with queer love and coming out, I just don’t like her acting.

So, that brings me back to this no-holds-barred out, gay love story! The movie deals with two boys, Kartik and Aman, who fall in love in Delhi and have to make a journey to Aman’s hometown to attend his cousin sister’s wedding. Aman’s dad finds out about his son’s sexuality and the resulting dynamic between intolerance and acceptance forms the crux of the movie. I won’t lie and state that the movie didn’t see things through the utterly rosy lens of a romantic comedy. It does however deal with a lot of issues, that become the winning formula of any Ayushmann Khurrana movie.

It is very important that an A-lister like Ayushmann has taken up a role that almost no one in Bollywood would touch. Homosexuals were to be made fun of, to be derided. How can I forget John and Abhishek in Dostana? But there was not a moment in this movie that was cringe worthy. Kartik, played by Ayushmann, is a bold, vibrant, out homosexual man, who leads the movie out through the messy mind of homophobia.

Most people find the first half of the movie appealing, but for me, it was the second half that held weight. It has a brilliant dialogue between Kartik and Aman, when Kartik asks Aman to stand up for himself and not get married to a girl. This is the most important conversation for me, because what one must always realise, or make very healthy attempts to, is the truth of who one is. One must always be true to who he or she happen to be. That is what Kartik tries telling Aman. To love yourself before you can ever possibly love anyone else.

Ayushmann had my heart when he wore the rainbow flag and gave a speech on the dangers of homophobia. The whole scene is over the top, but which self-respecting gay man hasn’t had to say these words to someone in their lives? Well, maybe not shirtless, but hey, who can say that hasn’t happened either? Ayushmann’s Kartik is where LGBTQIA people reach after a while: being sure of who they are and what they want from society. It is Jitendra Kumar’s Aman Tripathi’s shoulders that the movie stands upon. The small town boy who knows he is different, is in love, but cannot face up to parental pressures. This is his story. His journey.

Ayushmann and Jitendra have done lovely work. Many situations in their lives corresponded to either my life, or varied stories I have heard from the lives of my queer friends. Everything that Kartik says in regards to sexuality I have said at some point or the other. It was like hearing myself speak at times. The most important thing is when he tells Aman, twice, in the course of the movie, to completely and deliberately disregard what his father is telling him to do, because he must listen to his own heart. This is not Romeo telling Juliet to disregard convention, this is a Romeo telling a Romeo to understand biology. It’s a very important factor, that most of us do not notice.

Jitendra Kumar took on a role no one really wanted. But he has done lovely work with it. He has beautiful eyes and the vulnerability in them speaks volumes. He is the everyday, desi homosexual who is caught between his biology, his love and his family. And what a family! The supporting cast has done such a fantastic job! Gajraj Rao who plays Aman’s father, Shankar, and Neena Gupta who plays Aman’s mother, Sunaina, have outdone themselves. Their back story has such a layered sensitivity that again is briefly touched upon – having made choices ruled by convention instead of their own hearts. Some people may find Bhumi Pednekar’s cameo confusing, but being gay, one realizes how many of these incidences happen with straight girls and gay boys. (And it’s a nod to Shubh Mangal Saavdhan, their earlier movie together.)

The time given to this movie was too short. It moved too fast for me, especially whilst bringing in so many valid, heavyweight issues and dealing with them quickly. Most of the situations that needed a serious tone were made to seem totally flippant, like the scene where Shankar beats up Kartik. Homosexuals have been killed due to homophobia, and in this case, it was comic fare. I will also very grudgingly give this leeway, because to make something so serious occur would change the entire tone of the movie. Laughter is always easier to digest than tragedy – well, at least for me. I want a happy ending.

I left the theatre feeling good. I know the script had flaws. I know it isn’t a brilliant movie. But it worked for me, because of the very fact that the issues the LGBTQIA community faces were not made into a trope. They were given due importance, without sounding too preachy. And even if it did sound too preachy, it’s necessary, concerning certain audiences are seeing soemthing like this for the first time, in this kind of light! The movie even gave power to the girl who Aman is to marry. Strong women abound in the movie: women with voices, be it Sunaina or Goggle, Kusum or Champa. Everything fell neatly into place – nothing like real life – but if Raj can have Simran, then Kartik should so definitely have his happily ever after with Aman, too.

Albus Dumbledore and the Convenient Closet

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

I have always been a fan of fantasy. Before I began my journey with the books of Tolkien, Rowling, Paolini, Guin, Pullman, I devoured Enid Blyton, Tintin, Asterix and then historical romances. Yep, I am a sucker for a happy ending and knights in shining armour. Then you have Strider, blazing through the North and rescuing Frodo. Gandalf the Grey standing at the bridge of Khazad-dum and yelling, well, you know. And then when I turned 23, at the pinnacle of heart break, a friend gifts me my first Harry Potter. In it, he inscribes, “to magic your pessimism away.”

I will never forget that. Twenty-two years later we still reminisce on that moment. But twenty-two years later, Rowling tweets, “Dress however you please. Call yourself whatever you like. Sleep with any consenting adult who’ll have you. Live your best life in peace and security. But force women out of their jobs for stating that sex is real?” With this she declared herself firmly on the side of a transphobe who refuses to acknowledge that people born as men can transition into women and vice versa.

There are so many things wrong with the world today. Too many to count. I have been disillusioned and crestfallen at the plight of humanity. Through the years, though I have been allowed to build certain notions about certain people. People who otherwise seem woke. I mention this because I have people whom I love and cherish, who love me in return, but who have blinded themselves to certain political stances that abuse basic human rights. These are people I live with and break bread with.

So, I understand that everyone has a right to their own opinion. But some opinions are just – so against open-minded thought. How can I not say that the opinion is wrong? One of my friends, who is well-versed in mythic structures, tells me how the west, rooted in Abrahamic thought, sees things as absolutes. These are black and white pillars, with not a shred of grey in between. And I would argue with him about Tolkien and Rowling…

Irrespective of the fact that Sauron is all evil, I point out that Gollum is an amalgamation of grey. Irrespective of the fact that Voldemort is purely black, I point out how Harry and Ron both show tendencies of the negative. For the sake of what I am feeling, I will restrict this piece to Rowling. She helped me leave the world that seemed so bleak, at a time when my heart broke by the shattering of a first love. She took me into a flight of fantasy that I had not felt since I understood Tolkien. I loved Hedwig and I loved Hermione and I loved Dumbledore.

I have been effeminate growing up. I have been ridiculed and harassed and bullied. I have been beaten and terrorised by my own father, for being a boy who was understanding a different sexuality. I learnt to behave in a certain way through fear and conditioning by my peers. I never thought that I needed to transition. I was asked this once by a very dear aunt. I knew I liked boys then, I knew I was gay and I did not want to transition into a woman. But I followed all stories of any alternate sexuality and I felt a bond with them, like most of us who are searching for camaraderie and similarity, in a world that doesn’t make sense and that is bent on rejection, instead of acceptance. I learnt that the world is built from many, many colours and mine could be my own and I could allow it to be different, at different times.

Life is fluid.

When I read Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone, I wondered why this stark differentiation between Slytherin and the rest of the houses? Would all Slytherins prove to be negative? When I read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, I identified with Remus Lupin. But Rowling had other plans for him with Tonks. Then I realised something unexpected was afoot, when Dumbledore takes Fawkes and disappears from his office in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. “He’s got style” could be said of so many queer people, after all. The hints of his relationship with Grindelwald made me squirm with joy. But nothing was ever – ever – overtly mentioned. I made arguments on the reason for this. I stood up for her writing.

As I read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, I was so consumed by the brilliance of Snape, I avoided the horror that was the portrayal of Voldemort. The dark in the villain let in not a shred of light. He became Palpatine, he became Sauron. There was nothing fluid there. It was just a void. That was the only book of the series that I read only once.

After the series ended, after the Deathly Hallows broke its records, after the hoopla died down, she calmly mentioned that Dumbledore was gay, in 2007. When I heard the news, I was over the moon. Gradually, I heard the arguments of how she had kept Dumbledore in a closet according to convenience and how she outed him as per similar suitability… of course, I once again had my arguments ready. She didn’t need to explain his sexuality when she had hardly mentioned anything much about his past in the first place. And Dumbledore was hardly a happy character, he was manipulative, a recovering fascist, a person who believed in ultimate sacrifices from those who could only be conceived as ‘casualties of war’. Although there was one question, I never really asked –

Would it have made a difference to me, as an out, proud, gay man? All those years ago, while getting over a heart break, and worrying about society, and coming out and father figures letting me down… would it have made any difference to read if someone I admired in a fictional work, that was breaking records all over the world, that was bringing children back to the written word? Would it have? Would it have made a difference knowing that the Dumbledore, I grew with in the course of a decade, was gay? That Dumbledore who had a twinkle in his eyes, who wore outlandish clothes and said the most bizarre and beautiful things, who helped the main three at every turn, who so, so many looked up to, was gay?

Simply put, yes.

On a blog, a writer stated, Rowling “has fetishized Dumbledore’s gay pain so much that she is unwilling to write any healing for him.” Which is a complete fact. Both the homosexuals, in the series, suffer and probably, justifiably, but there you have it – crime and punishment. Where is the rising above? Where is the buoyancy of spirit? Where is the resurrection? Where is the coming out – if not of sexuality, of love? Queer identity, by its history, finds momentum by acts of bravery and expression. But I forget, that happens in the real world, in my world.

On 19th December, 2019, I read Rowling’s tweet. At first, I thought I mistook the meaning behind what was written. Then I searched for context. I found it. I understood it. Then read the tweet again. I was shaken. At that point in time, I understood that she did not understand. She, like so many others in life, did not comprehend the beauty of difference, of diversity and the spectrum of existence. None of us can know it all. Most of us try. She was not one of those. Hermione Granger would probably look at her creator and cringe … because irrespective of the fact that Harry Potter and J K Rowling share the same birthday, to my chagrin, I find that Rowling has more in common with James Potter.

That being said, a writer I value a lot, a mentor, realised how I was feeling. He appreciated my perspective and tried to help me align world views. He quietly sent me a WhatsApp message: “Someone who hates Nazis can be awkward with homosexuals. We don’t have to punish her. Why does she have to carry a flag for gay people, when it’s not her lived experience. She did her best. We can’t love people when they do ‘approved’ behaviour.” He ended, “The jackfruit does not bear grapes.” And I felt as though I was Harry, at the end of one book, in the series, and he was Dumbledore, (a confident, wise, out gay man) talking to me of the lessons I needed to learn after experience.

I have wondered what the ones with alternate sexuality who are also fans of the series are feeling. When someone with a voice as big as Rowling’s speaks out against one’s identity, how does one consign to the fact that hers is just one voice? But that is just what we have to remember! No matter how big or dynamic it is, another voice should have no impact on who you are or who you wish to become. It is a voice, with great power, but we have to understand, it speaks from its own limitations and experiences. Every human being is flawed. Dumbledore is flawed. Rowling is flawed. And so, ultimately, the voice that you have to listen to must always come from within you and based on your own experiences.

Edited: 29 November, 2024

Abandon

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I was reading up on abandonment issues. When I got to the research part of it, I was faced with a lot of terms such as personality disorders at worst and helplessness at best. The crux, as it always is, goes back to parenting, the social situation at home. I think the first abandonment happened when I had to leave Bandra. I still remember sitting in the truck and moving away from Ganga Vihar, and my grandmother, who I loved incredibly, weeping at the balcony.

I never expected company from my mother, who raised us without a word of help from her alcoholic husband. So I depended on my nanny, who moved with us to the new home. It was just her, my sister and me. But she had dreams of going abroad, and so she left us within the year, after she had helped in raising me for thirteen years.

The time was a tough one. I was coming into terms with my homosexuality, the transition into adolescence, a new home, a new school. I was the victim of severe bullying. Boys would follow me into the bathroom and ask for sexual favours, outside in the playground, I was singled out. I am sure it didn’t lead to any feeling of abandonment, but in my head, I remembered thinking that I was being punished because I had left my grandmother who had loved me so.

My father didn’t help matters. He was an alcoholic ever since I could remember. He never held a job ever since I could remember. So he would be home when I would return from school. He knew I was gay and he detested the thought of it. How did I know this? He would lie on a divan in the hall, and begin beating the wall with his fist. He would amble about the house and he would pick fights with me needlessly, which would end up getting physical.

So the move began most of this issue in my head. But as I grew, I achieved more confidence. I loved reading and I would consume everything I would get my hands on. I loved movies and they became my escape as well. My focus shifted to animals, because they wouldn’t leave me. My favourite movie became The Black Stallion, where the bond between the horse and the boy was unassailable.

The first boy I fell in love with pursued me. He wanted to be in a relationship with me. He was a student of music and was here for studies from abroad. I knew getting into a relationship with him would end badly. I told him so and also mentioned that I wouldn’t want to get hurt by it. But as it so happened, he was the first guy who held me and made love to me and there was no going back after that.

He moved in with me and we loved each other for the better part of eleven months. I remember sleeping and waking up with a start dreaming that he had left and I was left alone. The feeling of loss was so severe that I used to wake up in tears. The inevitable happened and he left for his home, and to this day, I can still remember him walking away in the airport and I was left standing behind a glass partition.

The depression and the anxiety that followed for a year later was something that has prevailed in my mind. I lost thirteen kilos over the course of that year. The rest of the abandonment was a gradual process. Broken promises and a measured weaning off of communication lead to another abandonment, where closure was something that wasn’t given to me but which I had to find by myself over the years that ensued.

During that time, my best friend married. She was busy setting up her own new life and left for abroad as well. I have never felt abandoned by her, probably because I was assured of her love and fondness for me. It was an upheaval though, because we lost touch for the better part of three years, but it was one I could deal with.

The point of this sojourn through the past is to understand myself a bit better right now. I just took a couple of tests and this is what they had to say:

Your romantic attachment style: Intense and Preoccupied
You have described yourself as preoccupied in your attachments. This suggests that you have more intense interpersonal relations than many people do, that in your romantic relations you sometimes feel really quite close, and at other times you feel almost estranged and cut-off. You probably have a hard time asserting yourself in a way that makes you feel you are really in control of your emotions. You may find that you often feel let down and as if you are giving much more than you get in your romances.

It’s possible that your partners feel as if you don’t really know who they are, even though you feel you are very intimate with them. You probably have a higher level of emotional arousal than most other people, both positive and negative, and this gets expressed in your romantic relationships. You may find it hard to be without a lover, and yet find that when you have a lover, the intensity puts a strain on the relationship.

Being preoccupied in romance is a matter of degree. A good lover thinks of the beloved often and holds the beloved in her or his thoughts. Mindfulness is a virtue and being mindful of one’s lover is highly regarded and a tremendous asset in close relationships. But there’s a difference between mindfulness and preoccupation. If you feel that perhaps you have been too preoccupied in love, it may be time for you to consider professional help. Being overly preoccupied in love is a condition that can often be successfully addressed in psychotherapy.

Remember that attachment styles exist in degrees, and in this test, the degree to which a style is true for you will make a difference in your interpretation. Everyone has to have some style or another, and the features of any one style only become maladaptive when they exist in the extreme.

There is also the result in which I scored a 100 out of 100 for abandonment. Apparently, I have what is termed as the ‘abandonment wound’. I don’t really think these are all that conclusive. I don’t really trust in most things anymore. It’s almost like planning your day according to astrological patterns. There may be some truth in the stars, but one can lead one’s life according to their predictions. Science is still so new and still so scary, almost like a volcano that keeps spouting new lava – viewed from afar but felt in the atmosphere.

I have no real idea of what is going on in my head. All I can do is be self-aware and these write ups are my way of dealing with what is happening inward. There are times when I hear a song and I progress inward. Hoping to understand myself more and realise what makes me who I am. And hoping that once I do understand myself the adapting into something else doesn’t happen soon. I wish to get to know Harpreet and what makes him tick. I believe he is someone, who is worth knowing, after all. Someone worth taking the time to understand and love.