STARS FOR THE PINK PARADE - Published The Statesman 09

Looking back on this year’s Kolkata Pride, Niki Seth-Smith considers how celebrity support could benefit the gay community.

On the seventeenth of September, the Centre is to take a stand on the decriminalization of consensual gay sex in India. That is, if the government abides by the Supreme Court order. It appears unlikely that the ruling on Section 377 will be reversed, but the fear is palpable and prompts an urgent question: Who will support the LGBT community and its newfound and much-belated ‘right to exist’?

In Bengal, Kolkata Pride has been uniting the gay and transsexual community with its supporters since its inception in 2003. As a straight British woman, I was part of the celebration of new hope that marked this year’s Pride, falling just days after the ruling on Section 377. While buoyed up by the victorious spirit of the march, I was struck by the near-complete lack of supporters from outside the LGBT community and its network of help groups and organizations. Surely now, with the gay rights debate finally in the limelight, the community is in more need than ever of advocates and champions from outside the fold.

Kolkata Pride 2009 fell on a typically rain-drenched fifth of July. Cowering under our umbrellas, my friends and I watched a rag-tag group slowly filtering into College Square. I peered out at the Leapord skin-clad figure before me. As she talked excited Bengali to my friend, I tried not to stare at her adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“She doesn’t know when the march will begin. It should have started by now,” my friend translated.

As we waited out the downpour, I swatted up on my ‘LGBT India’ terminology. There were the hijras, I was told - a strong community often referred to as the ‘third sex’ but who normally identify as female. Right, I thought, that was Miss Leopard Skin covered. But apparently, it’s not that easy. “It’s difficult to know,” my friend explained, “who are hijras and who are khotis, who also take the feminine role in sex. Some associate themselves with a more global notion of transsexuality - it’s a highly complex scene.”

What I did know, looking around me that day, was that my friends and I seemed to be the only ‘conventional’ independent women at the march (I chuckled to myself; I’d never described myself like that before). I’ll clarify: We’re straight and had come of our own accord – not as part of an organization or as a friend of any-one belonging to the gay or trans community. Where were the other straight men and women of Kolkata come out to celebrate this historic moment? Where were the celebrities who could have drawn the crowds? An obviously upper class, smartly dressed lady was heading towards me. A fellow supporter? But before I could smile, a camera was thrust in my face.

“Why are you here?” she barked.

“Because of Section 377 being repealed. Because India’s decriminalized gay sex… sort of, well, hopefully…”

The woman glared at me. She’d wanted a snappy sound-bite from a Western woman, not the ditherings of an idiot.

“Tell me why you’re here. There must be a reason.”

I looked into the camera blankly. Surely it was obvious? Because I’m in favour of gay rights. Because it’s an occasion I want to celebrate.

Now, nearly two months on, I’m proud of my cack-handed TV moment. The overturning of Section 377 was never a clear-cut ‘thumbs up’ to gay sex and identity. As soon as the ruling went through, it was challenged by the Centre; the debate is still brewing and may well carry on getting itself into tangles long after the seventeenth of September deadline.

As for my ‘reason’ for being at the march, the question angered me. Not least because the reporter seemed to have a point. Looking around me at our colourful, crazy band of 400 marching down College Street, my friends and I seemed to be the only ones that didn’t have a definite ‘purpose’ in being there. All the way to Chowringhee, the spirit of the march blazed in sparkling technicolour - outrageous lycra dresses, tongue-in-cheek banners and mad-cap dancing defying the incessant drizzle. But somehow my heart wasn’t in it. Those several hundred had a cause to rejoice all right, but where was the average Kolkatan citizen rejoicing for and with them?

Compare Kolkata Pride to my native London Pride and you’ll better understand my surprise at the absence of ‘casual’ supporters. On the fifth of July, just as Kolkata Pride was setting off in the rain, the fortnight-long London Pride was staging its glorious finale. One million people had marched from Baker Street to Trafalgar Square, with Sarah Brown (the Prime Minister’s wife) heading the motley tribe. After-parties had raged at the clubs every night, while live theatre and comedy jam-packed the streets with rainbow-coloured revelers. By focusing on entertainment, London Pride 2009 was able to attract hundreds of thousands of straight men and women - some of whom might not otherwise have stopped to reflect on gay rights and identity.

Could celeb power have drawn the masses to Kolkata’s Pride? When I put this to Pawan Dhall of Saathii (Solitary Action Against The HIV infection in India) he readily agreed. However, he was quick to point out the difficulties in persuading celebrities in India to risk association with the gay community. An increasingly vocal group of A-list celebs have chosen to bear this cross: notably actresses Shabana Azmi and Celina Jaitley. But shouldering the cause is vastly different from identifying oneself with the community. For example, while Sanjay Suri played the gay title role in the landmark feature My Brother Nikhil, he was quick to refuse playing another sexual minority for fear of being typecast. And roping in a celebrity, according to Pawan, is just the beginning of the trouble. “A lot of stars here aren’t familiar with the issue,” he says with a cheeky glint in his eye. “They get themselves into a trap and suddenly realise what they’re saying. NGOs need more skills in celebrity management.”

While Mumbai and Delhi do their best to suck up India’s small reserve of sympathetic celebs, Kolkata’s LGBT scene has enjoyed its own time in the limelight. Pawan fondly remembers the crowds at Saathii’s 2007 art exhibition, Dohri Peeda ('Twice the Pain'), inaugurated by theatre and film actor Koushik Sen. Of course, another Sen, Bengal’s own Armatya, has addressed the subject in several public lectures. And though not all have approved, many Kolkatans will have seen Sapphire Creations’ The Alien Flower - the homosexual-themed ballet which weathered the public outrage provoked by its 1996 debut to become an accepted part of Kolkata’s cultural history.

But while spectacle and star factor may up the head-count, will audiences engage with the debate or merely watch their idols’ (no doubt mesmerizing) lips? The fact is, the Armatya Sens and Sanjay Suris of this world lead completely alien lives in the eyes of your average Kolkatan. While we may worship celebrities, we can only relate to them up to a point. It’s easy to accept the actions and beliefs of such demi-gods while damning our neighbors on the very same grounds.

This is the argument that has since plagued London Pride 2009. The statistics may speak of unreserved success, but the fortnight has been slammed as “a huge party without politics” (as LGBT magazine On Top phrased it). Gay rights activist Peter Tatchell made headlines with his comment that ‘most of the content was about entertainment and partying’ - so ‘ignoring’ and ‘downplaying’ the political weight of the occasion. While an unprecedented number of straight men and women attended the Pride, no doubt a fair few were too busy pratting around in Dolly Parton wigs to engage with the causes at stake (equal marriage rights for gay couples being the headline issue).

Clearly, Kolkata Pride could benefit from a dash more Masala. The Delhi Court ruling on Section 377, whether it’s repealed or invoked nationwide, has made huge strides in drawing public figures into the debate. In the ensuing tug of war, the more stars on ‘our side’ the better. But while nothing persuades the masses like celeb endorsement, such shortcuts to awareness can easily backfire. The dream would be to attend Kolkata Pride 2010, look around me, and not know who is straight and who is gay. But such a turnout would have to stem from genuine concern, not from the urge to glimpse Celina Jaitley’s thighs.

Niki Seth-Smith is a British journalist with The Statesman. ‘Stars for the Pink Parade’ is the first in a series viewing Kolkata through a Londoner’s eyes.