I'm never really sure as to what to think of the queer movement in India. Yes, there's the reading down of 377, Tamil Nadu offers SRS to hijras, and so on. . . but I'm not optimistic. I really don't like the angle that some of the activism and initiatives have taken. Also, whinging gay men are really insensitive and annoying, a problem with which I have experience from Good as You. And transphobic gay men whining about some issue with PR, whilst very much valid, are not a demographic to whom I always extend my sympathies. Well, not without just cause, anyway. I'll try and get to the point without being so pointedly vague and awkward.
So, activism. . . My experience has mostly been with Sangama and their offshoot organisation, Samara. You know, those hijras, kothis, and the random creepy men who follow them around at events like Pride, even though they refuse to involve themselves with the planning of such events. Don't misread this, I have a great deal of respect for the work that Samara in particular does, and I've met some really lovely and interesting people who work for them. On the other hand, that patronising fuck who calls himself a doctor should go and work elsewhere, I'm really sick of the heteronormativity that many hijras seem to espouse and enforce, and it would be nice if they actually tried an initiative that didn't revolve around stereotypes (hiring hijras as traffic police has a perverse sense of humour about it, considering their reputation for standing at intersections, and training them as beauticians is not much better). Oh well. I guess it's nice to always have a place for sex workers, particularly transgender ones, to stock up on condoms, drink tea, and things like that. I'll leave them to that, I guess.
And then there are the Pride events. I have to say I'm more impressed with Bengaluru Pride than with the one Pride event that I've attended in the US (then again, I'm particularly bad about not going to things there), but I'd really like to see the group planning it and the attendees being more connected. As it stands, it doesn't seem like there are many hijras going to the planning meetings, and few people who aren't urban, middle or upper class gay men or lesbians. It would be nice to have more participation from those demographics. It would help to integrate the community to a degree, and perhaps break down a few misconceptions and create some understanding.
Anyway, this all leads to the other issue: young, middle class gay men who whine incessantly and seem to focus their social life around Planet Romeo and similar things. And their generally transphobic, afraid to be associated with hijras and kothis, or perhaps just put off by them. Someone I know from a group in Bangalore was apprehensive about going to Chennai Pride a couple of years ago, because he was "afraid that it would just be a bunch of trannies." I was rather put off by this (my response involved a brief rant on the subject, and how he shouldn't be concerned because after all, I hang out with faggots fairly regularly), and it really makes me think about how there is no open/safe space for queer women and transfolk who aren't heteronormative. If such a space were to exist, there would be no need to put up with transphobic and sexist faggots. . . perhaps a more controversial wording could not be had.
But the problem is that we really have no need to divide the community like that. I see no reason to give in to the sentiment of the gay yuppie offended by his 'trannies' in the context of a group supposedly open to the community, but dominated by other gay yuppies, and maybe the two bisexual ones. Dominated so much by them that when I first attended a meeting there, I thought it might be better to just introduce myself as an ally rather than a member of the community. I don't think I mentioned anything. On the other hand, it is important to also have distinct spaces for particular identities, but I guess I find that inadequate at the moment. Then again, I'm not even in Bangalore right now, so what the hell should I know about it?