Can we not have a conversation?

I was visiting my friend’s place recently, to meet her two kids, one girl of eight and a boy of three or four. Before going there I was trying to buy gifts for the kids, and trying too hard to buy gender neutral gifts. In a fairly “liberal” world that we think we live in, I found it incredibly difficult in even kid’s gifts that would not impose gender on them. Anyway I ended up buying chocolates, thinking everyone irrespective of gender and race loves chocolate.

When I got to her place, I was warmly greeted by her eight year old daughter, in her cute pink leggings and bouncing pigtail. Though she and I seldom met, she loved hanging out with me and we always managed to have a great time. While we reestablish our friendship and my friend was busy making me tea, I hardly noticed the shy little boy standing in the corner and looking at us. I did not even notice his presence until the time came when I realized I actually did not give the kids their gifts!! So I pulled out the packs from my bag and immediately one of the packs was proudly owned by my pig-tailed friend. When I turned to the boy holding the pack out for him, his eyes did light up but he was too shy to come and get it from me. Right then when was thinking how can I make friends with this little chap, I heard his sister harshly taunting him “are you a GIRL or what?” before I could believe my ears, she turned to me and started telling how embarrassing he was, he liked to play with her dolls, liked to wear her clothes, and even sometimes wanted to wear lipsticks, “what a loser he is!” While this eight year old spilled her embarrassment with her brother, I time traveled in past, suddenly I felt the clothes on me are too big and I did not have graying hair or glasses anymore, I was standing in my parents’ drawing room and my father shouting at me “For god’s sake be a MAN”. I did not know what did I do this time, I just felt tears welling up in my eyes, I looked at my sisters for support, and saw them giggling at me mocking. I tried hard to figure out what did I do wrong? Was it because I wore my mother’s necklace the other day when no one was home? Or may be somehow they got to know how I loved wearing my ma’s black and golden sari?  Or maybe because when my sisters and I were playing picnic I chose to be the mother and cook for them? I raced my four year old memory but still could not find what did I do wrong this time? I wish I had the brain of a thirty three year old back then and could say DAMN IT! Maybe I find colorurful outfits more attractive than my dull blue shirt and half pants, maybe I feel close to my mother as she never tells me am weird and so wear her stuff and feel connected to her. Whatever be it I just caould not figure out what did I do wrong and stood there in complete embarrassment. While all these thoughts were storming my brain my friend brought a tray with food and tea, and the aroma of tea dragged me back to present, where I saw the kids enjoying their chocolates, oblivious of all the insults and hurts that just happened two minutes back.  

My friend and I quietly start sipping on our tea and she sensed what was going in my head. After all she has been a big support in my coming out process. So before I could start a conversation, she told me she was fine with the possibility of her son eventually coming out as a gay man, and she would support him always. But this was not the right age for him, he would have to wait until he grew up and understood what it meant. After all I cannot expect her to talk to a 3 year old about SEX! “Wait”, the key word here, wait till he grows up, wait till the society around him tells him he is weird and is wrong and needs to be fixed, wait till he tries to kill himself as he is mad and confused, and finally when the wait is over, that magical day comes, when suddenly he gathers all his courage and wisdom to go against everything and in spite of fearing losing his closest friend, his mother, he tells her while they eat breakfast “ma I like men”. And then she will support him, will embrace his brokenness and his fear of everything around him.

 But he has to wait till that point, as homosexuality is of course all about sex and we cannot have that conversation to a 3 year old! I at least feel glad that when and if the time comes she will be there for him, that’s a big relief.

But while she kept telling me how inappropriate it was to talk about sex to her son till he can decide for himself, my mind got stuck on the phrase “wait till he understands”. When did I first understand that I like men, when I was five and at my cousin’s wedding I saw this 25 year old guy and I really wanted to talk to him? When I was eleven and my neighbour, who was twelve back then, came to me and asked me if I wanted to play a new game that he “invented” and then undressed me and kissed me and I did not know what it was but still loved it and wanted more? Or when blood rushed to my penis making it hard and weird when I heard my sister telling us how her handsome class mate looked in his shorts showing off his muscular-hairy legs? When did I first realize that I do not belong to the statistically significant 95% of the society? When I was told as a three year old that as the only Banerjee male kid I will one day marry a nice girl and will make my family proud by having male kids with her and I felt then and there I do not want to do that and at the same time felt wrong and guilty for already disappointing my whole family? When did I realize that I was wrong? When someone told me I should not like art as am a man and should only talk about sports and I knew I had no interest in that but still kept pretending that I liked it. Not entirely because I was scared to “come out” as that phrase had no meaning back then, but as I sincerely believed I was wrong.

I realize I have no specific date when I realized that I like men, but what I know is I always liked them, it was long before I became a sexual being, long before I started understanding words like heteronormative, gender identity and sexual fluidity. I know I cannot be critical to my family and friends as they had no clue about my sexuality until I told them, or maybe they did not want to know. But at least they have been loving and understanding enough to give me their warmth and support when I came out. But I think I can ask them for a favour, do not wait till your child is broken and is twenty something, till they attempt suicide several times, till they convince themselves that they are wrong and pretend straight, do not wait so long that they are too scared to fall in love. Just have a conversation, as for sure homosexuality is just not about having a sex talk with a three year old.