 "Anjali Gopalan")
What does one do when one's petition to decriminalise homosexuality is granted by the High Court, leading to thousands coming out of their closets into a rainbow-hued freedom - only to have the Supreme Court (SC) dismiss the verdict after sitting on it for four long years? It must be, I surmise - as I wait for Anjali Gopalan, founder of Naz Foundation, India's foremost champion of LGBT rights and the face of HIV/AIDS activism in the country - profoundly frustrating. I'm at the Imperial Hotel's Atrium, known for its genteel high tea, and anticipating plenty of not-very-genteel conversation with my guest.
"The sense of shock in the community over the SC ruling that homosexuality between two consenting adults is a criminal offence, has been immense," Gopalan says soon after she arrives. "Why did the court wait for four long years to deliver this judgment, allowing a supposedly illegal activity to go on in the interim?" Naz Foundation, a key appellant in the High Court petition to revoke Article 377 in 2009, is working to challenge this. "We've filed a curative petition seeking to cure 'defects' in the 2013 SC judgment upholding the validity of Article 377," says Gopalan. But as she settles into her chair, wondering what herbal infusion to order (she's on a diet which allows her little else), it's clear that she's anticipating a long battle ahead.
I gaze longingly at the three-tiered fantasy of petits fours, wafer-thin salmon sandwiches and scones (yes, good old-fashioned English scones with jam and clotted cream) and eventually succumb to its calorie-laden charm. As assiduous waiters fill Gopalan's porcelain cup with a rosehip infusion and mine with some Darjeeling tea, I wonder at the insensitivity of the archaic Article 377, the most unpalatable British throwback on our table. "I fear its ramifications," says Gopalan. It is certainly a setback to the national AIDS campaign. "Can you imagine the plight of the gay AIDS patient? How will he access the free medication the government provides if he's deemed a criminal?" she asks. And then, of course, Gopalan points out, there's the bizarre anomaly of the same court recognising transgenders as the third sex. "What does the court think the transgender community does for sex? It has criminalised the very gender it has recognised!" The bigger issue, she says, is that this judgment underlines how the government is choosing to look at minorities. "This SC verdict is just going to create a culture of intolerance," she says. "It's not just let down the LGBT community but also our very Constitution."
Much needs to be done to protect MSMs - men having sex with men (MSM is more politically acceptable than the term gay, she informs me), lesbians and transgenders in our country, she says. "We have laws in place, but few services that back them up. For instance, I'd like to see safe shelters for women and men (yes, men face both physical and emotional violence when they come out of the closet). Often, they need protection, but our police force is not trained to handle them sensitively. Also, they should have access to free, good quality legal aid..."
Our cups get refilled as if by magic every now and again. The harmonious, relaxed atmosphere at Atrium seems a little at odds with our conversation on the turmoil surrounding sex and sexuality rights in India. Gopalan, who has been featured in the Time magazine's 2012 list of the world's top 100 influential people; awarded France's highest civilian honour - Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur, and nominated (and shortlisted) for the 2005 Nobel Peace Prize, tells me how the Naz Foundation began.
With dual master's degrees in International Development and Journalism, Gopalan began her career working with community-based organisations in New York City that provided direct services for HIV/AIDS and substance-abuse issues. "I decided to return to India and set up Naz in 1994, when I saw the tremendous gap in AIDS prevention and care services," she recalls. Her HIV clinic came up in 1994 and six years later, she set up the country's first home for orphaned and vulnerable HIV+ children in 2001. "Much of my work over the years has to do with training professionals and caregivers to treat HIV-positive children," she says. Today, the 30 children in her home go to school, take their medicines and play. "What we spend a lot of time doing, is working to remove their feelings of abandonment..." says Gopalan. Naz Foundation also runs a home-care system for HIV patients, with regular medical and nutritional inputs and monitoring.
Biting into a tiny chocolate eclair, I wonder why AIDS is no longer in the news. Is its incidence on the wane, I ask. Gopalan laughs ruefully: "On the contrary! We've burrowed our heads into the sand but that doesn't mean the problem has been solved. The indicators that predispose a population to contracting AIDS are all there - poverty, lack of education, rising numbers of MSMs and drug addiction," she says. "Eradicating it seems like a herculean task." The lack of awareness about AIDS is still a stumbling block. "I did a phone-in programme on AIDS on Doordarshan a while ago, where a caller from Kolkata asked me if one could get AIDS from mosquito bites!" she snorts.
That's why we need to break the resounding silence about AIDS, she says. "We have to educate younger people on safer sexual practices," Gopalan says. "I've done many sensitisation programmes in schools, but it is too tiring to sustain alone..." The other day, an AIDS-afflicted 18-year-old at Naz asked Gopalan, "will I ever have a girlfriend?" Gopalan was shattered. For the current-day tragedy of AIDs is that while better medicines (freely available through the government) have improved the life expectancy as well as the quality of life of HIV-positive children - a death sentence and deadlier shroud of prejudice darkens their days.
I ask what motivates her to carry on, even though her field of work is so heartbreaking. Gopalan tells me she's a passionate animal lover and has a rescue home in Faridabad. "My dogs, cats, donkeys, cows and even emus give me solace. Animals have such a wise, beautiful way of forgetting and forgiving, we have a lot to learn from them!" she smiles. She indulges her green thumb by growing organic vegetables for the children in the home. "In my experience, from the most horrendous events, something good always emerges. I was shattered when the brother I adored died before his 40th birthday. But he bequeathed Naz his house, and funds to keep us going..." Gopalan also started a unique outreach programme for girls, Goal, that grew from her helplessness and frustration when she saw how many younger women were getting infected. In a collaborative initiative sponsored by Standard Chartered Bank, its employees play netball against teams of girls from underprivileged backgrounds. "It's been a wonderful way to gain access into lives of young girls, and has enabled us to educate them about their health and safety too," says Gopalan. Naz has reached almost 10,000 girls through this and follow-up studies have shown that many of them have found the courage to postpone their marriages and aim for financial independence.
Tea over, we get up to leave. Gopalan's smile transforms her face as she has the last word: "You ask what keeps me going. The fact is that when you know you've touched a life, it is such a high! You get back much more than you have given..."
