living and loving the life of a photographer


29/Jun/2008
Where have all the flowers gone?

Protests drive democracies. While I have my doubts over the bigfatdemocracy that we are, there's no doubt whatsoever that I love a good protest on a Sunday afternoon. With the weather in Bangalore being as beautiful as it is, I'm happy to show up—and shoot—for any cause.


More images from the GLBT Pride

I arrived at the Brahmanic enclaves of Basavanagudi just in time to overhear a snatch of conversation between a policeman and a curious onlooker who demanded to know what the tamasha was all about. “It's a rally for those who live on the fringes of society,” explained the policeman, half-unsure himself. Some give-and-take has occured here due to my unreliable translation from Kannada, but it does demonstrate a certain lack of vocabulary to address gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders in India. (Here's a good blog post that sums up Bangalore's first GLBT pride.)

A lot of people refrain from participating in causes that don't affect them personally. I'm reminded of that poem by Pastor Martin Niemöller, which at first sounds like a cheesy facebook forward, but is actually a sound warning against the rise of every nasty -ism we've ever known. But what about those who are loathe to show support for their own cause? The only two gay dudes I know (both share a birthday, interestingly) didn't show up, citing the same reason I've heard so often: To what avail?

Apathy and minority rights make strange bedfellows. And speaking of bedfellows, it's important to shatter that Ahmadinejadian illusion: There are no homosexuals in my country. In a public demonstration, everyone gets a chance to clarify where they stand, through attendace and/or utterance.


More images from the GLBT Pride

What struck me most when the GLBTs marched from National High School to Puttannachetty Town Hall was how many of them there were. Their everyday invisibility makes their visibility today all the more dramatic. Sexual minorities from every socioeconomic strata, from flesh trade to advertising, were walking together within hand-shaking distance of each other. This is a major breakthrough in itself.

Some were beaming a just-came-out smile. Some saved their best clothes for this day and danced like there would be no tomorrow. One woman signed her name against the words “Free at last”. To that avail, it was a historic day.


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