I DO: An attendant arranges a bridal veil for a same-sex pair of mannequins in a New York shop window. (AP)

Many of them may be many decades older than the age of consent, but that has come with the long wait. In New York, on Friday last week, within a few hours after the law legalising same-sex marriage was passed, wedding plans likely to add an estimated $284 million to the state’s economy were made, a report says.

“Peter, will you marry me?” asked Dan Gallagher, 46, who dropped down on one knee as he finished running through Central Park on Saturday with his partner of 14 years, Peter Shearer, an emergency medicine physician. Walter Bridgham, 47, a manager at Macy’s, and Argus Galindo, 46, a magazine subscription manager, also cheered the law’s passage with a crowd outside New York City’s Stonewall Inn, where a police raid in 1969 sparked the modern gay rights movement. They have been a couple for 20 years.

In Calcutta, the scene is somewhat different, for the young and old alike. Legal sanction to homosexual marriage in the country seems far away — some feel it is absurd to even think about it now, though two years have passed since Delhi High Court’s historic judgment that read down the provisions of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC). The section criminalises sexual acts “against the order of nature.”

The Delhi High Court verdict had its advantages, says Pawan Dhall, a gay rights activist. “After the verdict, several petitions have been filed in the Supreme Court in favour of the verdict. Parents from Calcutta are among the petitioners. Even if marginally, the situation has changed for the better in the past two years,” he says.

RAINBOW PRIDE: Activists mark the second anniversary of the Delhi High Court judgment at Academy of Fine Arts on Saturday. Picture by Sayantan Ghosh

Sappho For Equality, an organisation that works for homosexual rights, went to the police after Swapna and Sucheta, two girls from Nandigram in a relationship, committed suicide.

“We didn’t have the means to go to the state machinery and seek their support earlier,” says Malobika, co-founder of Sappho.

But one or two petitions at the Supreme Court and one act of cooperation from the police in two years is not a very happy statistic.

Sappho still doesn’t announce its name at its office. The high court verdict is yet to translate into law — Section 377 is yet to be repealed.

Most of all, the verdict has made no difference in the daily lives of the gay community.

“Gay relationships are fine as long as they are secret. It is only when you force them out in the open that there is a problem,” says activist Anindya Hajra of Pratyay Gender Trust.

Gay people are still best not heard and not seen. Especially in clothes they are not supposed to wear.

Land of promise

Living together remains tough as ever. Some want to go — to the US. Kunal Chowdhury, a 28-year-old student and gay rights activist, hopes that he can join his boyfriend in the US later this year. His boyfriend lives in New Jersey, not New York — but well, it’s the US!

The couple do not plan to get married at the moment. It is enough for them that they will be able to live together.

“I have some friends in New York, who always wanted to get married and now they will be. A marriage has certain benefits. It gives security and helps a legal claim to property. When my partner and I think of adopting a child, the marriage law will come helpful,” he says.

His partner, an IT professional, is fighting his demons there. “His colleagues don’t know. He says the young Americans are tolerant, but his seniors not so much. He is especially apprehensive about the reaction of his Indian colleagues,” says Kunal. “He is afraid that if word leaks out about his orientation it might affect his growth in the company. He is scared to go to a gay pub or take part in any social gathering.”

The US is not an uninterrupted stretch of the free country, not for Indians. “I am trying to read up on the legalities and talk to lawyers and support groups in the US in case there is a problem for my boyfriend,” says Kunal.

The law of the land has shown its willingness to treat homosexuals on a par with other individuals. The Delhi High Court Verdict on July 2, 2009, declared that “Section 377 of the IPC, insofar as it criminalises consensual sexual acts of adults in private, is violative of Articles 21 [Right to Protection of Life and Personal Liberty], 14 [Right to Equality before Law] and 15 [Prohibition of Discrimination on Grounds of Religion, Race, Caste, Sex or Place of Birth] of the Constitution. We hold that sexual orientation is a ground analogous to sex, and that discrimination on sexual orientation is not permitted under Article 15.”

“They call us 377 on the streets now,” says 21-year-old Priya Basu with a wry smile. The gay community had stormed the streets to celebrate the ruling.

But visibility is the problem. It is one thing to take part in a pride march, another to come out in one’s own environment. Families tend to accept gay persons as long as they do not pronounce themselves gay.

“My partner’s family and mine are both uneasy about our relationship. So we have to meet outside,” says Priya.

Outside is not fun always and the verdict does not help. “About two years back one day we were sitting on a bench at the Lakes. A girl came and sat beside us and we heard her talking to someone on the phone. In a few minutes, she was joined by 10 men. They surrounded us and began to abuse us verbally. One of them said: ‘Just because it is legal now, you think you can do anything!’ ” Priya adds.

“In taxis or restaurants, people often turn to stare at me and my boyfriend or listen to our conversation. Some gay friends were harassed recently. When they went to the police, they said ‘You belong to good families, why are you engaged in this dirty activity?’ ” Kunal says.

“Ok, so the verdict intends to decriminalise homosexual relations, but what rights does that give me?” he asks. Others are not sure whether the verdict can be upheld outside the jurisdiction of Delhi High Court.

It’s the same old story of shame, guilt and what-have-you.

Marriage matters

Law doesn’t change society in a day. Besides, the Indian society is different from the West.

“We are very family-oriented. Not just for homosexual relationships, even a straight couple attempt to hide their relationship,” says Hajra. “But speaking out is important,” he asserts.

Asserting one’s independence in ones personal life, but not always by making a statement, is important.

“Gay people should stand up for their politics, their rights and their entitlement. They should try to bring about a change in the social mindset, not in some grand way, but rather at a micro-personal level,” says Santanu Ghosh, 30, who lives with his boyfriend. “Of course, doing this involves a good deal of risk in our society, so the leap must be carefully deliberated upon.”

And what about gay people marrying in this part of the world?

“I personally don’t support the institution, but I feel marriage should not be meant just for heterosexuals. The choice should be available for those who wish to get married. But I don’t see it happening in the city or the country any time soon. It took so many years of the movement to get the Delhi High Court verdict passed. Even in New York, it took more than 30 years to get marriages legalised,” says Hajra.

Marriage entitles one to rights: to property, to children, to memory. All this a gay person is entitled to as much as one who is not gay.

Maybe it’s not such an impossible idea after all. “I don’t think it is absurd to think of gay marriage in India in principle, but rather it may be premature to think of it at this moment when the law is yet to fully decriminalise consensual homosexuality,” says Santanu.

“But please do not always portray us as victims,” he says.

(Some names have been changed on request)