Attitude

RAINBOW RIOTS

Art and activism collide as we take a stand with Rainbow Riots, a musical movement bringing together some of India’s first openly LGBTQ artists

- Words Thomas Stichbury

India’s first openly LGTBQ artists

Three years ago, while attending Pride Uganda, Swedish musician and LGBTQ activist Petter Wallenberg found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, a number of guns, in fact. Not surprising­ly, he feared for his life. Armed police had stormed the celebratio­ns as part of a brutal crackdown. Being gay was, and still is, illegal in the African country, and the raid polluted the air that had temporaril­y been filled with joy and liberation with the stink of hate and violence.

“Police held me and my team hostage for two hours while they arrested and beat several [ other] people,” Petter recalls, summoning a memory that is no doubt deeply lodged in his brain. “We weren’t sure if we were going to live or die.

“Although we had machine guns pointed at us, I didn’t feel scared; I felt sad,” he continues. “During the raid, I saw rainbow flags being torn down and thrown on the floor, and I remember looking into the eyes of a stranger and thinking, ‘ Those are the saddest eyes I have ever seen’.”

Petter had travelled to Uganda for his passion project, Rainbow Riots, which he founded in 2012. The not- for- profit organisati­on fuses together art and activism in a bid to improve the lives of queer people in places around the world where their rights are under threat, or not recognised at all.

“My mission is to fight hatred with creativity. I envisage a world where no human will be in danger simply for being who they are,” he explains. “Queer people have always used creativity and culture to overcome hardship – extremely powerful weapons because they change the most important thing: a person’s mind.”

After the incident in Uganda, nobody would have blamed Petter for retreating from the front line of his fight.

Instead, the episode served to fortify and fuel his efforts. “It didn’t stop me. That night made me [ want to] dedicate my life to activism. I felt even more determined to get this message of strength and hope out there.”

In 2017, that steely, unshakeabl­e determinat­ion led to the release of an album, Rainbow Riots, a collection of empowering, uplifting songs recorded by queer artists from countries from Uganda to Jamaica, turning up the volume on voices that for too long had been silenced.

Alongside this, Petter launched Uganda’s first LGBTQ community centre, and the next wave in his campaign for equality, justice and love for all is a new EP.

Petter spent almost two years in the Indian

city of Mumbai, working with some of the country’s first openly gay, lesbian and trans singers, rappers and dancers.

Timing his visit perfectly, the songwriter and producer witnessed the overdue crumbling of Section 377. In place for more than 150 years, India’s British colonial law criminalis­ing homosexual activity was finally abolished a year ago, a legislativ­e fossil exploding into dust.

“When I arrived, as a gay man, I was a criminal. I stepped off the plane, I didn’t know anyone and had to go out and find people. After some detective work, I discovered Mumbai’s undergroun­d queer scene.

“A year into the project, the movement I had joined achieved the biggest victory for human rights in our time. All Indians are now free to love whoever they want. Suddenly, I was part of a revolution,” adds 39- year- old Petter.

“In February, I was invited to be one of the speakers at India’s first legally recognised Pride in Mumbai. I shouted, ‘ Love is what?’ and the crowd replied, ‘ Love!’

“The atmosphere was electric.”

That wind of change can be felt at a rate of knots while listening to the latest record – fittingly titled Rainbow Riots India

– which bubbles with bold, bigotry- bursting, Bollywood- inspired tunes.

Attitude caught up with four trail- blazing talents involved in making the album.

Each shared their experience­s of growing up in India, facing differing degrees of discrimina­tion and prejudice.

One common thread, though, is that the story doesn’t stop with the overturnin­g of Section 377.

There are still a few chapters to go before

end. in. g.. we reach a happy

Shooting to fame in the 2014 series of TV show Bigg Boss, the Indian equivalent of Big Brother, Sushant Divgikar was raised in a liberal household where his sexuality was embraced with open arms.

“I came out to my brother, who was so protective of me, and he told my dad. My father asked me: ‘ Are you gay?’

“And without a bat of an eyelid, I said, ‘ Yes’. “He gave me a huge hug and said: ‘ You’re not my gay or straight child. You are my child. Period.’ Those words still resonate in my ears and make me emotional.

“As for my mother, she just said: ‘ Oh, I already knew, I gave birth to you, what did you expect? That I didn’t know? I love you regardless’. But she did say that house rules still applied to me as much as they did to my brother — ‘ No boys allowed in your bedroom’,” he laughs.

Sushant, who lives in hip Bandra

(“the queen of the suburbs in Mumbai”), acknowledg­es that his upbringing won’t have been the norm for other LGBTQ kids, and that he was fortunate to have been surrounded by so much acceptance.

“I had a beautif ul childhood,” he notes. “My parents and f amily were so supportiv e, and they made it a lot easier [ for me]. All I can say is that I’m blessed.”

Pictured left in all his f abulous finery as drag alter eg o Rani- Ko- He- Nur, Sushant doesn’t go into detail about any hardships he has had t o face. His default setting is to brush them aside. “Yes, there have been instances of misogyny and homophobia in my life, but y ou tell me one country that doesn’t have it?” he ask s rhetorical­ly.

That said, Sushant, 29, does point to the far- from- rapturous reception he received on being crowned Mr Gay India, in 2014.

“The response was lukewarm as most people were still afraid, or apprehensi­ve about mentioning being gay openly. But I’ve always been proud to live as a gay man, and being honest and comfortabl­e with who I am has, for the most part, worked for me.”

When talk turns to the scrapping of Section 377, he is keen to hammer home the law’s British roots, based as it was on the 1533 Buggery Act.

“India was very celebrator­y about sexuality and sexual diversity until the British imposed this absurd and inhumane law upon us and other Commonweal­th countries,” he fumes. “We need to undo the conditioni­ng that the British left us with.”

But Sushant, who lends his vocals to tracks Love is Love and I’m Coming Out on Rainbow Riots India, is confident his homeland can right the wrongs of the past.

“Now is when we must all come t ogether and fight for equalit y,” he urges. “You can see the wheels of change [ already] turning for the better.”

Queer rapper Tropical Marca paints a much darker, disturbing picture of childhood, despite also having the support of his nearest and dearest.

“Being from an educated family and [ having a group of] friends who actually got what being gay is, I consider myself to be privileged,” he begins. “However, that privilege walked out of the door as soon as I did.”

A colourful fixture on Mumbai’s club scene, the Tropical Queen singer, who also performs in drag, insists he never felt anything less than comfortabl­e in his skin. “I always knew I was different. I just didn’t know what the word for it was. Society knew exactly what to call me: gay. I didn’t ever feel ashamed of myself [ though]. I was proud of the fact.”

But when asked if he was ever bullied because of his sexuality, Tropical ( real name Marc Mascarenha­s) recounts a youth that was pockmarked with extreme cases of abuse, including rape.

“Being molested at the age of three, bullied through[ out] high school and college, being gang- raped at 14…” he says, with a disquietin­g, nonchalanc­e. “Add to that, the nasty comments, so, basically, the usual.”

Casually shrugging off the trauma as you would your coat at the end of the day, perhaps as a coping mechanism, Tropical, now 29, sought escape in song.

“I found the stage and church choir at six, and I played like a kid at Chuck E Cheese,” he gushes. “My music is [ there] to inspire kids like me. It doesn’t matter what your story is, only you [ can] change it.”

So he jumped at the chance to appear on Rainbow Riots India. “When Petter asked me to be a part of it, to use music as a medium of love, [ I] was above and beyond. It is such a beautiful opportunit­y to let the world have a taste of our art, culture and passion towards making a better tomorrow.”

“‘ We need to undo the conditioni­ng that the British left us with’”

Although things are moving forward with the rolling back of India’s anti- gay laws, Tropical warns that the war has not yet been won. “More people have the courage to come out, but that has increased the suicide rates due to lack of acceptance by families,” he says. “[ Gay] sex has also increased and so has the risk of HIV. As the brand ambassador for PrEP, I have made it my personal mission to wipe

th. out HIV [ in India] in e next five years.” Growing up in the slums of Mumbai, dancer Paras Ramjilal realised from an early age that poverty wasn’t going to be the only hurdle that she would have to overcome.

“I was 12 when I felt that I was different from the other kids,” she reflects. “I had feminine behaviours and the feeling of [ being] a girl.”

A “totally confused” Paras eventually came out as trans to her family and was immediatel­y met with resistance.

“They were in total shock and not accepting of it, especially my brothers, who were ashamed of me. My mother eventually supported me.

“I hardly had any friends,” she adds. “And those who were so- called friends started to ignore me.”

Treading water against a tide of transphobi­a, Paras struggled to find a “proper job” despite having a post- graduate degree and plunged to desperate depths just to survive. “People didn’t regard me as human or as a part of society.”

“I faced discrimina­tion at every turn,” she reveals. “The only options I was left with were begging and sex work, like many members of my community.”

Paras, 23, continues: “The place of sex work was usually the highway. Clients were [ typically] drunk and would abuse me verbally and physically if I didn’t have sex as per their needs. Most of them preferred to have sex without a condom, and wouldn’t pay the agreed rate, or would demand sex without [ paying] money.

Catching a break, Paras currently works in a bank, and found a new rhythm in life, quite literally, when she joined Dancing Queens, India’s first trans- woman- led dance group. After launching 14 years ago, the troupe now has more than 30 members.

“Since childhood, I [ have] had a craving to dance, but there was no platform to show my talent,” she recalls.

Paras, who features in the music video for Never Look Back on the EP, hopes fans will “understand that trans people are a part of society, and that we have the same rights [ as everybody else].”

In April 2014, India’s Supreme Court made the landmark ruling that transgende­r people should be recognised as a third gender. It was a huge sea- change, but Paras calls for more to be done for her trans brothers and sisters. “[ Hopefully], the government will come up with a bill to take care of all transgende­r issues, including education, health and equal

sh. e. sa. job opportunit­ies,” ys.

Vinodh Philip formed Rainbow Voices Mumbai, India’s premier LGBTQ choir, in the summer of 2014, and they’ve been hitting all the right notes ever since.

“The choir aims to be an advocate for equality, compassion and inclusion, to spread a message of love and acceptance through the transforma­tive power of music, and to provide a safe space and platform for queer musicians and singers to express themselves without fear or prejudice,” he beams.

Made up of singers from “all different walks of life”, Vinodh, 41, says they have become his chosen family. “All of us have stories of struggle, and we’re now one another’s support system, giving shelter and comfort, sharing joys and challenges, whether it’s to do with tough times at work or with relatives who don’t understand our sexuality.”

Pitching in on a number of tracks on Rainbow Riots India, including Be the Change, Vinodh believes the choir’s role is more vital than ever in striking a chord with the public following the dismantlin­g of Section 377.

“The LGBTQ community is still looked down upon in Indian society. Just at the start of this month, a 19- year- old boy committed suicide after he was harassed and ridiculed for being gay,” he sighs.

“We have a long way to go in terms of civil rights, [ namely] medical benefits, housing loans, adoption, civil unions and same- sex marriage laws.

“But as Rainbow Voices Mumbai, we’ll continue to be the musical rainbow warriors

ri. gh. ts.,” fighting for LGTBQ Vinodh maintains. Back in August, Petter invited Sushant, Tropical Marca, Paras, Rainbow Voices Mumbai and his other collaborat­ors to his homeland to perform at Stockholm Pride, making them the first queer Indian singers and dancers to headline an internatio­nal Pride.

Hungry to make more history, Petter doesn’t know where the rainbow will take him next.

“As long as there is hatred to fight, my work is never done,” he vows.

Rainbow Riots India is out now on Spotify, Apple Music and all other digital platforms rainbowrio­ts.com

“‘ The only options left open to me were begging and sex work’”

 ??  ?? MAKING THEIR VOICES HEARD:
Petter Wallenberg and members of India’s first LGBTQ choir, Rainbow Voices Mumbai
MAKING THEIR VOICES HEARD: Petter Wallenberg and members of India’s first LGBTQ choir, Rainbow Voices Mumbai
 ??  ?? BREAKING DOWN BARRIERS: Paras, left,
and Avika from Dancing Queens
BREAKING DOWN BARRIERS: Paras, left, and Avika from Dancing Queens

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