That is so gay dude

 Homosexuality, a taboo subject in our country. Our government at least takes a clear stand on this by making homosexuality a punishable offence. But the rest of us are just two faced, our favorite line being "That's so gay, dude!" We change our profile pictures on Facebook to the colorful one introduced by Facebook as part of the "Celebrate Pride" campaign. We are willing to support the US government legalising LGBT marriages in their country, but we mock the homosexuals around us. Even talking about homosexuality is taboo. "How cool, dude!" most of us go for US legalising LGBT marriages. The same ones who exclaim "Is he gay?!" when a man wears pink, cares about how he looks, or when someone, according to the majority, lacks masculinity. How two-faced can we be?!

Why do I care? Because I know a heart-breaking story of an acquaintance, a set of parents who lost their beautiful daughter toward a terrible tragedy, owing to the kind of society that we have created.

A beautiful, quiet and intelligent girl. Let's call her "Leena." A friend of childhood friend of mine, Aaradhana. Leena always seemed distressed. Like she was in unspeakable pain. But she just had to meet Aaradhana, and she would be all upbeat and happy. Aaradhana never understood these extreme moods that defined Leena's 'weird' personality. But at 16, one doesn't care too much about all this. Leena started growing clingy toward Aaradhana, making her uncomfortable in the process. Aaradhana started staying away from Leena, ignoring her calls and refusing to meet her or hang out with her. However, they all passed out of school and Aaradhana moved to another town within Bombay. The two friends drifted apart. While in college, Leena met Dipti. They hit it off really well.

Now like a typical Hindi soap Aaradhana and Dipti were friends as well, having attended some coaching classes together or something. But she wouldn't hang out with Dipti and Leena, maintaining a respectful distance but being in touch at the same time.

 Few months into our brand new and exciting college life, we get a shocking news. Aaradhana called one evening with the news that I could have lived without. She sounded stricken. I panicked thinking something terrible had happened. Then she told me. "Leena killed herself last week." "She hung herself by the ceiling fan and died."

This sounded inexplicably unbelievable. She seemed depressed, but back then, I never knew how depression worked.

And then Dipti confessed to Aaradhana because she was dying of guilt herself. So Leena had been a homosexual and she loved Dipti.  Dipti had apparently reciprocated Leena's feelings. But then maybe Dipti panicked or was just confused. When a this cute guy in her class asked Dipti out, she started dating him.

After a couple of months, Dipti and her boyfriend decided to get married. Leena was heartbroken and she plunged into depression headlong. Living in a small town, in a middle-class conservative Maharashtrian family, she had always felt queer about her feelings toward girls. She thought that Dipti was her only friend  who comforted her, or atleast pretended to. They even fell in love with each other. And then Leena dumped Dipti. Just like that. That was the final blow for Leena. She had already been drowning in depression. All she probably had been looking for was "acceptance." She died, just like that. Leaving her parents shattered and clueless.

Aaradhana was aghast. 

At 21, she couldn't think of doing anything about this depressing story except meet Leena's parents and tell them how their daughter had always been a wonderful friend. Aaradhana herself was ridden with guilt. For now she knew why Leena had been clingy toward her. Leena had only been looking for a friend, a sister-of-sorts whom she could open up to. Someone she could talk to and who would accept her as a platonic friend, or like family, and not judge her for being a lesbian. And Leena gave up that hope, when one evening Aradhana commented on a lesbian couple in a movie, calling them "gross." 

I had almost forgotten about this miserable story. All the Indians on Facebook turning their profile pictures into the colorful variety to support the US law brought this back. This hypocrisy irks me. Because we don't show the same dignity to the homosexuals around us; most people are content just changing their Facebook profile pictures to offer support.

How would you feel if your kid, sibling, or a loved one confesses that he/she is gay?

How would you like the line "Dude, that's so gay" then?

It's time that we all be more sensitive. Unless we as a society are okay with the Leenas amongst us killing themselves, fearing social stigma and dissolving in depression.

It's a disgusting world.

An already gloomy "I don't want to leave my bed today" morning takes a nasty turn. When I step out to go to work, with my husband, we hear a painful wail. The source: our otherwise nice watchman was hitting a poor street dog that dared to enter our building premises. I am usually my nice self to the watchman, exchanging pleasantries and all that. I asked him "Maarte kyun ho unko!!" He goes "Madam woh andar aakaar sara kachra gira deta hai.." My husband, a dog lover, goes "Aapke bacche dusre building main jaenge aur unko kisi ne maar bhagaya toh aapko acha lagega?" The watchman says "Aise kaise maarega koi?!"

I was annoyed and saddened by then. We just tried telling him really nicely "Un becharonko maaro mat bhaiyya.. mare baigair bhi bhaga sakte ho (if you must!)" and we just left.

I don't blame the watchman. We are conditioned to look down upon and just kick those who we think are lesser beings. I don't blame anyone. I blame the dogs. They aren't supposed to live in a world like this! They are nuts to be born here! 

This world doesn't deserve to have unconditionally loving beings like dogs around. 

Stopping to spend time..the kind that matters.

“Amma, am hungry..” “Swadi, you just finished lunch! Okay, will make you something.”

“Swadi, its 7:30! Get up will you, you lazy bum. You have to leave for school!” “Amma, just 5 minutes more. Pleeeeease!”

“Swadi, stop worrying so much. You are gonna do real well in tomorrow’s exam.” “But Amma, I have like the whole syllabus to learn through the night. Will you stay up with me?” “Yeah.. I will, Kunja… Tell me if you want chai..”

 “What’s up, girl? Dressing up so much for your chemistry lecture?” “Amma, I like this guy in my class. Am asking him out for coffee!” “Oh my god, Swadi!”

“Swadi.. heart breaks can be mended with chaat you know.. Maybe, ice cream will be even better.. How about you chuck the long face and step out with me for some chaat and ice cream?” “Love you, Amma.”

It has been 4.11 years since I had such conversations with Amma. It will be 5 years in a couple of weeks. I am not even going to write about how much I miss her and so on. That’s a given. She was the anchor of our lives, and the confidant of so many more she loved. She taught us too much, loved us too much, and left us too soon. She was magic. Even when she left us, she left back lessons to learn. Lessons that make me what I am today.

No, Mother’s Day is not reminding me of her. Mother’s Day compels me to tell you all some things I never talk about. And to remind me some lessons that I keep forgetting, running along with life at a break-neck speed.

 I took her presence for granted. I never thought she would just disappear before we had seen it all together. We had too much fun, while she was around, despite all the hardships and everything.

But then, every time I go to a beach, I think about how she left before any of us could fulfil her dream of watching the sunset at Kanyakumari, sitting on a rock (as she would say). Too humble a dream, now that I think about it, after travelling to bloody Bali for two weeks. I have come such a long way in life…. Makes me feel even lousier. Not in the sense that she would have died peacefully had she seen the sunset at Kanyakumari. No. It would still have been unfair. Life being snatched away from a soulful woman like her, so full of wisdom, love, unending wit, mischief, charm and life.

I feel lousy because I was so wound up in the so-called turmoil of my being and life that I did not think about planning that small trip to Kanyakumari for Amma. The gleam in her eyes while enjoying the sea waves would have been worth this life time. I have made peace with it though. Or I am in the process of doing that. One has to. Besides, I meet her most nights. In my dreams. She is a part of every good dream. And some day, we will travel to Kanyakumari and watch the sunset together---albeit in my dreams.

But you don’t have to do that. Give your mother the gift of experience while you still have the chance to do that. Heck, take her to Goa! Reschedule that trip of yours to Ladakh and take her to a place that she has never been to.

Parents compromise too much… on most of their dreams and ambitions.. Obviously because their lives practically revolve around their kids’. That’s nature I guess. At least in our culture. And we get too embroiled in our lives, forgetting to spend time with our loved ones.. the kind of time that matters. It’s a battle. A battle of learning to prioritize the priorities.. I am still fighting that battle. And this is just to remind you all that, mother’s day or Tuesday, thank them all while you can. I am trying to in my little way:

When I say “Love you, Appa” to my 73 year-old father, I can hear the laughter in his voice through the phone, although he is too embarrassed to reciprocate in words. But that unseeing smile makes my freaking day.

When I call my mom-in-law from work to thank her for the bhindi sabzi and rotis in my lunch box, the conversation is a little stilted, coz I am almost in tears, overwhelmed with gratitude and emotions that I haven’t felt for 5 years. But her reply of “You are MOST welcome, Swathi” is reassuringly loving. Almost undeservedly so.

I am trying. I have a long way to go.. too much love to reciprocate.. to many thank yous. Some people do it so easily.. They know to prioritize their priorities :)

Someday, I hope I am able to make the “Kanyakumari-like” dream of all my loved ones come true. Someday.

 You do that too, while you have the chance to…

Much love.