BENEATH a huge plasma screen showing the latest fashion shows from Paris, a well-muscled man in a sleeveless T-shirt gyrates slowly to the music with a shaven-headed man in a tight striped shirt. In the shadowy corners beneath the mezzanine lounge floor, fashionably dressed young men embrace in the safety of the Indian capital’s only gay nightclub, Peg N’ Pints.
Here and there, the darkness lights up with the flash of a mobile phone screen as numbers are exchanged before the flirting, chatting and dancing resumes. Sitting at tables on the balcony above the dancefloor, others unable to shed the stigma surrounding their sexuality gaze down at the revellers with a mixture of nerves and admiration.
"All I tell my parents is that I am going out with friends," Sanjay, 26, a fashion designer, giggles coyly, sipping from a Bacardi Breezer bottle. "If they knew where I really was, they’d go mad. I’m not sure they even believe in homosexuality. They would think it is a perversion that needs to be cured."
If the Indian Government is to be believed, Sanjay’s parents are in the majority. Last month, when a court asked the Government to answer a public-interest petition calling for the legalisation of homosexuality, it responded with a harshly worded statement saying that the practice could not be legalised because of the strength of social disapproval.
"Law does not run separately from the society. Indian society is intolerant to the practice of homosexuality," the government affidavit read. "Deletion of the law can well open the flood gates of delinquent behaviour and be misconstrued as providing unbridled licence for the same."
That case, say critics, is a cultural absurdity. For while homosexuality may be stigmatised now, it was not ever thus. "Those bureaucrats who claim that homosexuality is an alien concept to India have clearly not read their history, which documents the prevalence of this subculture in ancient India," Patricia Oberoi, a sociologist at Delhi University, said. "They are prisoners of Victorian Christian attitudes, not Indian ones."
Homosexuality was only criminalised in 1860 when British colonial rulers brought in a law, Section 377, decreeing that "whosoever voluntarily has sex against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal, shall be punished with imprisonment for up to life". In effect, the law puts homosexuality on the same footing as bestiality, rape and child abuse.
In practice, few prosecutions are ever brought against homosexuals for consensual adult sex, but gay men and activists say that the law is frequently used to blackmail them, mostly by policemen, who comb the streets for gays cruising for sexual partners, threatening them with exposure or prosecution if they do not fulfil certain favours.
Shaleen Rakeesh, an activist from the Naz Foundation, which is leading the legal challenge to the law, said: "Gays are being beaten up, raped and having money extorted from them by police under the cloak of this law. The existence of the law makes them easy targets for intimidation." He also argues that the law impinges on the ability of HIV outreach workers to target gay men who remain afraid of stepping forward and identifying themselves as long as the law remains in place. "Our workers have been repeatedly harassed by the police, preventing them from doing their job. India is on the brink of an Aids crisis and the police are only helping to contribute to that."
Section 377 has also been used to defend medical practices used to try to "cure" homosexuals, often at the request of parents. Two years ago the Naz Foundation brought a case on behalf of two gay men who had been subjected to such treatment as electroshock and aversion therapy in an attempt to change their sexuality. The petition was dismissed on the ground of Section 377.
For the wealthy elite who can afford to cruise in the safety of Pegs N’ Pints, the law is less of a practical impingement than a reflection of the attitudes of a society that refuses to acknowledge their existence.
"Changing the law would not change people’s attitudes but it would be a start," Rajesh, a public relations executive, said. "The Government is right that Indian society does not accept homosexuality but that doesn’t mean the law has to follow. The law should protect minorities, not persecute them. There are enough ordinary people ready to do that."
Perhaps the greatest challenge for homosexuals is resisting the pressure to marry in a culture that celebrates matrimony as the crowning achievement of every young person’s life. At 39, Rajesh has still not summoned the courage to come out to his parents, who since his late twenties have been parading young women in front of him in the hope of arranging his marriage. He has always resisted the pressure, but many do not.
Activists estimate that more than 95 per cent of Indian gays and lesbians do marry, some suppressing their sexual orientation while others cope by living a double life.
Not all is gloomy on the gay scene, however. Despite the Government’s reaction, Naz’s petition remains before the courts and with it, the chance that the law may yet be rescinded. Gays have found themselves powerful advocates in the liberal Englishlanguage media, which have been heavily critical of the Government’s heavy-handed response to their petition.
The Times of India, once the voice of the Establishment, printed a series of articles on gay life in India, urging the Government to lead the way to enlightenment by striking the ban from the law books. The Indian Express called the Government’s response to the petition the work of a "nanny State" seeking to control the private lives of citizens in a manner that "goes against the grain of libertarianism that is an essential part of Indian democracy".
In the meantime the explosion of internet use in India has changed the lives of many young gay men and women who had spent years believing they were alone. "It has been a revolution," Nikhil, 25, a marketing executive said, checking out the talent on the dancefloor. "I came from a small town and it was through the internet that I found out about this place and the whole gay scene in Delhi. Otherwise, there is no way I would have found the friends and support I have here."
While many remain in the closet, or at least on the web, others are marching proud. In June, gays in Calcutta led the first Indian gay pride march, striding down the street decked in jewellery and lipstick and waving banners proclaiming "Let us love and be loved".
In the wake of the Government’s statement, thousands logged on to the internet to post their protests on gay discussion groups. One poignant message alone summed up the sentiments of thousands still living secret lives in fear of persecution or blackmail. "At least people should know that we exist," the e-mailer wrote. "We do not want sympathy and we do not want support. All we ask is for our right to live our life the way we want to without hurting others."
TOLERANT PAST
