I recently wrote a piece on how romance in Kolkata still retains an old-world charm at its core — still comprising sunset boat rides at Prinsep Ghat, flicking through pages on College Street and scenic tram rides through tree-lined corridors.
I realise, albeit late, that this doesn’t stand true for everyone.
Each quintessential prem kora experience illustrated in that piece falls within heterosexual conformities. Witnessing the queer community partaking in similar experiences is a rarity. Even though the city appears to have moved with the tides of change, acceptance continues to be a privilege only a few enjoy. The queer community has a difficult set of challenges to navigate, especially when it came to relationships, but the reality of the challenges they face is something one could not imagine.
‘Thank you, Catwalk’
Kripal, a 25-year-old who’s a part of the trans community, spent three years in Kolkata while pursuing an undergraduate degree at St. Xavier’s College, Kolkata. Her love life has been tumultuous. She lost a part of herself to a toxic relationship, people she met on dating applications haven’t always been kind and society, that is, her dating pool, made a host of assumptions simply because she’s trans.
“My dating life has been rough. I once dated this guy who made sure that every time we went out I had to be dressed up from head to toe. Even if we were going on a walk, I was made to wear a full face of make-up and a glam outfit,” she shares. Kripal grew up around females who were tomboys. She believes that they moulded her into the woman she is today — a woman whose feminine side has never overpowered her personality. “I liked this about myself. But he didn’t. So I had to lose a little bit of myself, so he could live with himself,” she said.
At times, Kripal’s flings were abusive. But she was well-prepared. “When I started using dating applications, my friends warned me about abusive men. They told me about their experiences, which prepared me for the worst. A friend of mine was okay with experimenting with BDSM, but her partner took it too far. There was a lot of non-consensual slapping, fisting and kicking that came from a place of anger, not romance.” When Kripal experienced a similar encounter, she fought back: “I kicked him right in the nuts with my heels and walked away.”
“Thank you, Catwalk,” she laughs, valiantly finding humour in catastrophe.
“Society associates the trans community with sex workers and that is difficult to go through. Many people also assume that we’re promiscuous and ‘up for anything in the bedroom’”
She says that on several occasions, her dates have asked her for a ‘rate’, with the assumption that anyone who is a part of the trans community is also a sex worker. “You won’t believe the number of times I’ve been asked this question. Society associates the trans community with sex workers and that is difficult to go through. Many people also assume that we’re promiscuous and ‘up for anything in the bedroom’,” she reveals.
I ask Kripal if she has a romantic memory that brings her some joy. “Unfortunately, no. And I’m not looking for it anymore, either. I’m going to focus on my career,” she replies.
‘That was my one fun date’
Soham, a 23-year-old student at Ambedkar University, has one wistful memory. “I once went on a date where we walked from St. James’ School to Esplanade, spending time with each other, talking and laughing. That was my one fun date,” they smile. Soham has been dating ever since they were 17-years-old, but only has a single memory they’d like to cherish because the gay community can be difficult to navigate, at times.
“A lot of times, straight men use us to experiment with their sexuality. They use us to see if they like the experience of being with a man without telling us that this is what they are doing”
“A lot of times, straight men use us to experiment with their sexuality. They use us to see if they like the experience of being with a man without telling us that this is what they are doing,” they explain. “The choice of whether we would like to participate in this ‘experimentation’ is never given — we’re simply informed of it later.” The tragedy is that it takes something as simple as honesty for this situation to end in flattery instead of disgust.
‘Bisexuality is just a phase’
Society often dismisses bisexuality as a ‘phase’ and many a bisexual person has been asked to ‘pick a side’, or ‘make up their minds,’ and even been told that they're not queer enough.
Debanandini, a 19-year-old Kolkatan, says that even though they’re bisexual, they’ve never felt comfortable enough to explore it. “I’m in a relationship with a man and I’m bisexual. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I often get a lot of flak for it. I’ve been told that my bisexuality is just a ‘phase’,” they elaborate.
“If I were to date a woman, would I then be considered bisexual?” they ask.
‘The person who hurt me was the only person who loved me’
Jeff (name changed) grew up gay, but started dating much later because he wasn’t out of the closet until he was well into his 30s. “My parents beat the daylights out of me as a child, attempting to beat the ‘gayness’ out of me. When my partner raised his hand on me for the first time, I thought that was normal because I was so used to being beaten,” he shares.
“My parents beat the daylights out of me as a child, attempting to beat the ‘gayness’ out of me. When my partner raised his hand on me the first time, I thought that was normal because I was so used to being beaten”
He remained in an abusive relationship for close to three years because the person who hurt him was also the only person who loved him, for him. He tells me that his parents chose religious beliefs and ‘what other people would think’ over him. “Coming out to my family was a very difficult thing to do. I didn’t have the courage to do it for the longest time because I knew that as soon as I did, I would be completely alone.”
I ask him about a happy romantic memory that may have stayed with him.
He doesn’t say anything, he simply laughs.
