When Dhall “came out” in the mid-1990s, he was confronted with reactions like “You don’t look like a homosexual”. These days, he finds himself surrounded by people who are ‘out’ and willing to be counted. “Especially in urban centres like Kolkata, there are many more people who, even in public domains, don’t mind divulging their sexual orientation,” says Dhall, who has over the years been closely associated with the organisation of Rainbow Pride Week events in Kolkata. “A generation of gay and lesbian people left India to live a freer life in the ’80s and ’90s. Now I am happy to see so many young men and women openly declaring their sexuality and right to love openly,” says Suniti Namjoshi, a Canada-based feminist author poet.

For lesbian and bisexual women, however, the space for courage or fun is painfully sparse. While nightclubs in Delhi, Bangalore and Mumbai host gay nites on a regular basis, for women there are few places to get together. “We are silenced, not closeted,” says Maya, a member of Sangini, a Delhi-based support group for lesbian and bisexual women. “Public spaces are inaccessible for women. We don’t even put up stickers advertising our helpline number at any public place, be it a coffee shop or cinema, because we know a woman will not stand up in a public place and scribble that number down. There is always the fear that too many people are watching.”

Another Mumbai couple, Garima and Baneen, were handed an eviction notice after their landlord saw them on television at a gay rally during the World Social Forum. Sapna is appalled that the lesbian movement in India has no public face. “I was really upset when a television series on homosexuality had only gay men facing the camera. It’s high time we claimed our space,” she says.

... contd.