“Hence, unless society accepts queer people, the families would find it hard to accept them. Prijith adds that families cannot be blamed, as they are driven by society’s norms. Even under the Special Marriage Act, only heterosexual people can marry. “There should be a legislation ensuring dignity for queer lovers. It is unfortunate that such couples have to approach the court to live with their partners,” he points out. “Such cases often end up in courts, which usually reunite the queer couples.
Prijith P K, former president of Queerythm, an NGO based in Thiruvananthapuram, says the high court intervention is not something new. “We just want to be treated as normal human beings.” “After the workshop, many people accused us of promoting homosexuality,” she says. Talking of “hate”, she recalls being harassed for organising a gender sensitisation workshop at a college, along with Navya. As the ‘pride month’ is on, Ponnu says she has been receiving support as well as “hate” from society, especially social media. “There are many who were disowned by their parents, their education was stopped,” she notes. Ponnu believes she and her partner “are more privileged”, as they received parental support. “More laws supporting the rights of queer people should be made so that they can also lead normal lives in society,” adds Sreeja. Now, Ponnu occasionally stays at our place and Navya also goes to her’s.” Sreeja says the high court ruling is “a huge relief”, and believes it will help change the mindset of the people who are yet to accept her daughter’s sexual orientation. “Though it was not acceptable to me at first, I eventually agreed, as I wanted my daughter’s happiness. Though she didn’t share about the same-sex love initially, I was aware of her feelings,” says Sreeja, adding that Ponnu was known to the family. “My daughter had made me aware of the LGBTQ+ community by showing their videos. Like Sreeja P P, a social worker based in Kozhikode, who supports her daughter’s Navya same-sex relationship with Ponnu. However, I was shamed by friends and relatives.” Then, my parents realised I was serious, indeed. I went through excruciating emotional stress, which triggered health problems. When I confided in my parents last year, they did not take me seriously. Familial wrath is just one hurdle, says Sheetal (name changed), a lesbian based in Kochi. We also want to live with the same rights, dignity enjoyed by the heterosexual people,” Priyesh asserts. “I wish homosexual marriage is legalised in our country. “I am waiting for my mother to accept my relationship. Priyesh told his mother about his relationship with Ajith A, his partner. Though my mother accepted the reality, she is scared of what society would say,” he says. She said that I had mental issues and even referred me to a psychiatrist. Things were not that ‘cool’ when he came out to his mother and sister. Later, however, they accepted my identity,” recalls Priyesh. As expected, my friends trivialised it, saying it was just a false notion that I was having. In 2015, I came out to my friends that I was a gay. “I was confused, but I was sure that something was different in me. Priyesh Anu, a resident of Killiyoor in Neyyattinkara, realised his sexuality at the age of 23. This is not a lone case in which people in love had to go through trauma due to their gender identity and sexual orientation.Though homosexuality and queer identities have gained acceptance in society at the surface level, within the boundaries of family and home, the prejudice is often appalling. The couple’s only solace was Dhanya, a common friend from the LGBTQ+ community and a member of the Vanaja Collective. Following a struggle with her parents, the police intervened and Adhila was shifted to a shelter home.
But, they were subjected to emotional and physical torture. The families tracked and convinced them to return home, promising to accept their relationship. Facing resistance from their parents, the couple eloped and sought shelter at a Kozhikode-based NGO, Vanaja Collective, which works for the welfare of marginalised communities. Adhila and Fathima had been in a relationship since their school days in Saudi Arabia. The couple was forcefully separated by their parents, and the court intervened after 22-year-old Adhila, a resident of Aluva, filed a habeas corpus petition for the ‘release’ of her partner Fathima, a 23-year-old Kozhikode native. Trashing taboos, the Kerala High Court recently passed a landmark verdict reuniting lesbian couple Adhila Nazrin and Fathima Noora.