Tale Share: You've Come Out, and You've Come Out again

We like labeling things. We like binaries. We like our equations simple. So we find it hard to digest that nothing is ever really binary. The colours in this world are in a spectrum, as is gender.

Now, that is a hard concept for people to get in the west itself, which, let's admit, is a tad bit ahead of us in the acceptance of the non "normal" than us. US legalised same sex marriage, did you hear? We Indians on the other hand, are still grappling with the fact that transgender are people. What I wish for a day when I don't hear, "Which bathroom will they use!?"

Anyway, I digress. The point is, when a natural selection of sex itself is hard for us to see as a spectrum, I really don't see much hope for gender identification, which is more of a conscious choice than nature selecting sex organs for us.

I came across this one short story, written by Shikhar Vyas on The Cake, set in this nice world with nice people, who are supportive, and willing to learn, and don't ask if you have sex with yourself if you are an asexual. This, I would like to share with you. You can read the complete article on the Cake's Facebook page, linked above. Here I give you some snippets that stuck with me. Read on.

Do I say anything?

I really want to say something. If I don’t mention it, who will?

Somebody has to queer this place up.

Your turn to speak comes, accompanied by the (by now sporadic) piercings of social anxiety.

“I’m Shikhar.” Some generic details. And then you say, stammering, “I’m particularly interested in the rights of sexual and gender minorities, queer rights.”

You sit down.

Is the silence regular silence? Is it awkward silence?

***

With you are about seven persons, discussing what you choose to call the “straight-boy talk”, which is code for compulsory heterosexuality and a certain quality of ownership and entitlement whenever matters sexual come up.

More discussion on sex and virginity. You are uneasy, and you eat quietly, quickly because you’re hungry, but you can also anticipate the retinue of questions which will soon crop up.

***

“No I’m not. I was in one, but we broke up.”

They ask why.

“We grew apart, I realized I didn't like him any more.”

The smallest pause, as recognition dawns, then everything returns to normal.

***

“Yeah. I'm not gay, I identify as queer, and more particularly as androphile.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I am attracted to men, but it doesn't imply that I am a man myself. Because, uhh, I don’t identify as a man.”