13 August,2023 06:57 AM IST | Mumbai | Mitali Parekh
Pic/Nishad Alam
I have been thin and lean since childhood," says Sukhdeep Singh, "and suffered from a weak constitution. I'd fall ill every time the weather changed or even if I drank cold water. Even my sisters would tease me, calling me weak like a girl."
Growing up in Barrackpore Kolkata, among one of the six Sikh families, Singh's cultural identity was tied to his religion. "Until I was in Class VI or VII," says the now Noida-resident, "I would go to the Gurudwara every week with my parents, and for all the important days and celebrations including Guru Nanak Jayanti. But eventually, I stopped, because this was the 1990s, before cable TV - on Sunday mornings, Doordarshan played cartoons and Chitrahaar."
At 16 and 17, as awareness of his sexuality dawned on him, he saw no gay. Sikh men around him. "I was a student at IIT Dhanbad then," says the now 35-year-old, "in a hetero-macho, hormonally-charged environment surrounded by boys who were constantly talking about women. I would fake an interest or make excuses, and leave the conversation."
When he got on to the Internet in the early 2000s and became part of the LGBTQiA+ community, a new insecurity popped up: Would he, a turbaned and bearded man, appeal to other men? "I didn't feel attractive but there was no question of trimming or conforming," says Singh, who does not believe in a god anymore though he did as a child. "Frankly, it took a lot of sleeping around. Initially, I would look for reasons why a partner wanted to be with me - I couldn't believe it was because he was attracted to me." A few short romantic relationships also helped calm down his insecurities.
He also found a website called Sharbat in which he read the accounts of other gay Sikh persons, their discussions around their identity, and felt less alone. He began writing in Gaylaxy about his own experiences and found that his articles were widely shared and intensely debated. "Sikh men are considered the epitome of masculinity, and you are looked down upon if you are effeminate; even within the queer community, you are assigned a lower status if you are penetrated," he says, "This happens in many other communities too. But on the forums I found, Sikh men argued that the core values of Sikhism are brotherhood and equality, and this extends to homosexuality. There is nothing in the holy books that bans homosexuality."
His experiences culminated in the 2010 film, Sab Rab De Bande in which a Sikh transgender person, lesbian, two gay men and a granthi discuss and reconcile their cultural and religious identities with their sexuality.
Singh has resisted the compulsion to conform, and has never been to the gym to bulk up. He goes to the gurudwara occasionally now - on Baisakhi or Guru Nanak Jayanti. He is not part of the activities of the community, but his identity as Sikh is as strong as his pride as a gay man.