BEYOND THE RAINBOW

There are now pride marches in Bhopal, Lucknow and Panaji, Nagpur, Guwahati and Chandigarh. These parades feature traditional wear and folk dance. The tone is not one of rebellion, but a reminder: we’re here, we’re part of the community too

DUAL IDENTITY

In Lucknow, they march in silk saris and pagdis. In Chandigarh, they dance the gidda. Guwahati’s gay walk is silent. In Nagpur, they wear kurtas, pajamas — and masks. The LGBTQI movement is moving to smaller cities and towns, and taking on interesting new avatars. Signs in regional languages, literature carefully translated to avoid shock or offence, meetings held at chaurahas — the effort is to include the community rather than rebel against the mainstream.

“When I attended the march in Delhi last year, I was shocked by the differences,” says Mao Debojit Gogoi, 20, a student from Guwahati, laughing. “Delhi’s was loud, there were outrageous costumes and so much make-up. Guwahati’s was quiet and calm, like a smoothly flowing river.”

In the metros — Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata and Bengaluru — the pride marches are between 8 and 18 years old, and have grown bigger and louder in that time. Giant flags, rainbow-coloured wigs, selfies with tongues sticking out and costumes that range from unisex rainbow drapes to unicorn hats.

Big city marches are almost aspirational — they look like marches anywhere in the developed world; people straight, gay and from across the sexual-identity spectrum participate; it’s a big bash open to anyone who is, or wants to seem, liberal / enlightened / woke.

In Mumbai, 14,000 participated in the 2017 march. Bhopal, Lucknow and Panaji hosted their first LGBTQ pride marches in 2017. Chandigarh hosted its fifth, Guwahati its fourth and Nagpur its third. Each of these drew between 50 and 300 people.

As with the costumes, the marches have names that invoke a sense of regional identity and pride. The Lucknow pride parade is called the Awadh Gaurav Yatra; Nagpur’s is called the Orange City Pride March; Chandigarh’s, the Garvotsav. The costumes, signs and language are all part of an effort to remind onlookers — we’re one of you.

Activists from Mumbai and Kolkata have been helping organise the marches, and they’re having to do things very differently here.

“In the smaller cities and towns, there is a conscious effort to move away from the Western image of the cause. We realised that we needed to portray this as a desi movement if it was to gain momentum or acceptance,” says Pallav Patankar, a gender and sexuality consultant from Mumbai. “In these areas, the emphasis is on reminding onlookers that it is the bias against homosexuality that is a Western import; that our myths and epics, our history, embraced the sexuality spectrum long ago.”

REACHING OUT

In smaller cities, the movement has found that it benefits from being associated with