Shaadi season

Yes, It's that time of the year again. The time when the drawer is full of wedding invitations of relatives whose names you've never heard of. The time when you get the opportunity to witness the level of intellect and double standards present within our society. The time when you return home at 2 am, eager to take a seat on the commode only to pass out burning liquids. It's 'Shaadi' time.

This festive season kicked of with my cousins engagement where I heard a song whose lyrics roughly translated to:

'The groom is wondering how the bride will be' (because he hasn't actually ever seen the bride).
'Tell him the bride is like a piece of gold' (because women are shiny material objects, gifts of sorts).
'Whichever house she goes to, she'll make that house a piece of heaven' (God forbid she ever wishes to step outside that piece of heaven without the company of a male relative).

I think about how I sat quietly through the song and I'm impressed at my display of patience and maturity. My usual self would have either kicked the speakers till they became unable to play this damned song ever again or burst out laughing finding such ridiculous lyrics hard to believe in. But I realize that I must stay calm and maintain a certain level of discipline and continue to wear the fake smile on my face as I shake hands with relatives, whose faces I remember only vaguely, as though it's a great pleasure to meet them again. 

Despite the ghastly Parathas that have resulted in me spending a great number of hours each day in the washroom passing out God knows what, I've made it through the bulk of the season. I had an interesting discussion with my family the other night on our way to a 'Baraat.' The groom was a son of a close friend of my fathers and we were following the grooms car to a wedding hall. I'm not quite familiar with the customs of each function and I don't really care but in order to remove the awkward silence that persisted in the car, I decided to question my mother on the topic. She told me that during a 'Baraat' the 'lerkay wale' (friends and family members of the groom) go to pick up the bride and bring her home. I question 'Why can't the bride take the groom home,' and the car bursts into laughter and I sit there, puzzled, unable to understand the humor in my last statement. My mother jokingly asks if that's what I want for my wedding. I reply with a 'Why not?' and the whole car is perplexed by what I'm saying and alas, awkward silence continues till we arrive at the wedding.

I don't understand desi weddings. They seem so sexist, defining the roles of man and wife before they even meet. I'm not going to say they are very hetero-normative (even though they are; I can only imagine the confusion a gay couple would go through if they were have a desi wedding) because I understand that our society simply isn't there yet but to learn that our society isn't even willing to treat husband and wife equally is disheartening, if not infuriating.

My older brother doesn't want to get married anytime in the near future and although I understand, my mother seems almost unwilling to accept this reality. She tries time and time again to convince him to get married and after he refuses she jokes and says that one day, she'll pretend like she's taking him to a relatives wedding, but it'll actually be his wedding. For his sake, and for our societies sake, I hope she is in fact joking.

With One Foot Out of the Closet

Around two months ago, I came out to a friend of mine. Surprisingly, we weren't that close. I didn't know him too well at the time but I knew enough to know that my sexuality would not bother him. He would never judge me. 

He was complaining about how messed up his life was and how he felt that no one could relate to his problems because other people's problems seemed minute compared to his own. I argued that we all have problems, even myself. He asked me to elaborate and I did. I did not plan on coming out to him, it just sort of happened. I still don't know why I decided to tell him, maybe it was just to prove that I had greater problems then he did or maybe, I just felt ready.

Coming out to him didn't really feel like such a big deal. It felt good and after having come out to him, I came out to a whole bunch of my friends and all of them have been accepting. It was more difficult, however, to come out to myself (I know it sounds so cliche, but it's true). Even though I had my first sexual encounter at the age of fourteen, I don't think I actually accepted my sexuality till much later.

When I was younger (back when I still believed in an invisible man who watches over everything), I, like many other people, tried to 'pray the gay away.' Needless to say: It didn't work. I eventually gave up prayer altogether for reasons not related to my sexuality. I've maintained that my belief in God has always been weak and I was perhaps, destined to become an atheist. But maybe that's not true. The other day I went to the mosque for Friday prayers (Yes, I go for Friday prayers to make my mother happy) and when I raised my arms for dua, I automatically whispered 'God, please make me straight.'

I found this quite surprising. I realized that at some point in time, I actually believed that if I pray, my homosexuality would go away. Sitting in that mosque, it all came back to me. How I hated myself for such a long period of time. The day I considered committing suicide. Why? Because some invisible man in the sky didn't approve of me?

Maybe my sexuality may not have been the last straw that lead me to abandon my religious beliefs, but it certainly sowed the seeds. I couldn't be happy with myself and be religious at the same time. Some argue that Islam doesn't forbid homosexuality but to be quite frank, I don't think it matters. Just the fact that I could hold such strong views of hatred towards my own self due to my religious views is just, for lack a better word, CRAZY!

I don't want to hide in this closet anymore. I describe myself as a 'coming out of the closet whore' to my friends because I just can't stop coming out to them. Each day I come out to someone new and it's dangerous. Homosexuality is a taboo in Pakistan and if I tell the wrong people, I could get killed. I just can't stop myself. I want people to know. I want the world to know. I'm no alien, I'm not an incarnation of the devil, I'm just a homosexual. I don't want anyone to go through that period of low self esteem that I went through. The clerics can hate us all they like but they can't change us and God can't change us. I don't want to stay in this closet anymore but I know that as long as I live in this country, I can never completely be out of it. I have one foot out of the closet but the other will always remain inside.