‘As a Gay Man, I Can’t Stand Gay Parties. Here’s Why’

As an overtly extroverted kid, I used to be the life of every family function. I had a real sense of rhythm, and it undeniably got me a lot of attention at weddings and baptisms. A fat kid who can move is always a delight to watch. I know that because I was one.One of my cousins’ boyfriends wanted me to audition for Boogie Woogie, which is perhaps the most ‘90s thing you can tell a kid to do. During my college years, I became a wedding emcee to continue working at parties. It was easy money, food and booze, and of course, late-night dancing.Then, I came out of the closet.And almost overnight, I stopped going to these parties because I was aware that the same people who adored me now looked at me differently. My extended family happens to be huge; I have relatives who I’ve never met and never will because they passed away before I could remember their names.Apart from procreating like rabbits, the one thing my family loves to do is gossip. Every now and then, a cousin would message me asking “What’s up? Didn’t see you at so-and-so’s wedding reception! How are things?” Now I know they mean no harm, but for an openly gay man who’s transitioned out of his hardened Christian beliefs, I find it hard to go back to the same setting.How I Stumbled Into the Gay SceneIt was around that time, when I was 21, that I miraculously stumbled into the gay party scene.My first understanding of what a gay party looks like was from American sitcoms. We’ve all seen one of those. Our straight hero unknowingly stumbles into a gay bar with his female crush/roommate. The men around him are all ripped, wearing pastel shirts (some are even shirtless because why the heck not), and plot twist, for a change he gets hit on more than the girl. Cue laugh track. It might be a slight exaggeration, but it hits very close to home.Back in India, gay parties have always happened in shady pubs and under the radar. When I first researched a party that I could possibly go to, the name Voodoo popped up. I quickly shut the browser as one of my colleagues passed by. I looked for the place again a couple of months later, only to find that it had shut down, following a raid by the cops.However, there has never been a dearth of queer organisations sorting the nightlife options out for Mumbai’s gay population. Gay Bombay and Salvation Star have been organising parties for several years now, and both cater to different kinds of crowds – though what goes down at these parties is more or less the same. Cash entry, loads of alcohol, bodies writhing against each other, men making out on the dance floor and smoking sessions that devolve into much more in the quiet allies in the wee hours of the night.The women usually tend to feel outnumbered by the free-flowing testosterone on display. As such, smaller LGBTQ groups such as Yaariyan and Gaysi began focussing on community building and educating people about queer rights and sexual health, while also ending the night with a DJ spinning some tunes. Gotta have a DJ spinning some tunes.I was drawn towards the latter, mainly because I was broke to pay cash at the entry – and as a queer performer, I found myself fitting into the mould more easily.The Night All Hell Broke LooseAt one of these events, where I was hosting a bunch of quizzes and games that focussed on STI (sexually transmitted infections) awareness, the team was handing out safety kits that included condoms and lubes and a guidebook to safe sex. The night was going great, and then the music kicked in, and all hell broke loose.The organisers themselves were perplexed as to how to handle the situation. A major chunk of the crowd, now dancing on the floor, was clearly not there for the earlier part of the evening. There was one guy who just eerily planted himself outside the bathroom, a tradition he apparently follows at every event. What’s worse, there were two men who were making out at the bar for a good hour. I had to wiggle my way around them to buy myself a drink.If it made me uncomfortable, you can imagine what the staff at the pub felt. They just gawked in sheer horror and amusement. I was screaming at the mic about the gazillion infections that one can be exposed to, not less than an hour ago. It seemed futile. I remember going home very defeated that night. But maybe that wasn’t it. I realised that deep down, I was a little jealous. I had no one to go to a party with. No one to lock lips with.Historically, the gay community has been less kind to fat dudes like me. It’s worse for people who are fat, femme and introverted.But I thought my extrovertedness would take care of it. I would go to more parties and hit the floor. But here’s the thing, at a wedding function, I was the best dancer. But at a gay party, everyone can twerk like no one’s business. What can I say, some stereotypes are true. “Well, there goes my USP,” I thought to myself. For a while after that, I decided that this wasn’t me, I just didn’t belong in that setting. I hate to say this – I almost missed the sanity of a Catholic wedding.Why I No Longer Enjoy Rolling Into a ClubI recently met someone I had been crushing on for a while. When he finally agreed to go out on a date with me, I was ecstatic. He told me he was going to be at a party that weekend and I couldn’t pass up on the offer. If it only meant being around him more.I finished a stand-up gig and reached the venue at 11.30 in the night. The party had reached critical mass by the time I rolled in. My date had a bunch of straight friends accompanying him, so our circle was fairly kosher. Also, dancing in a small circle is recommended if you don’t want to get slapped in the jaw by a flailing hand or stepped on by other men unaware of personal space on the dance floor.There was this one dude who was clearly not friends with anyone in our group but kept circling around us and popping in the middle of the circle to show off how well he can groove. And in the adjacent circle, there was a burly dude who was eyeballing our centerpiece here. The next few minutes happened too fast. The burly dude and smooth criminal were feeling each other up in the middle of our circle, visibly grossing everyone out and forcing us to disband and sit at the table.It didn’t end there. Burly dude then came to our table and leaned against it, so the other guy could smack him to the beat of the song, while their friends watched and laughed matter-of-factly. Like it happens every time.Now I might come across as a prude at this point, but this is how it went down and it shook me. I have always rallied for equality and sexual freedom. But my belief is that the dance floor is a holy place where you make love to music and the liberation it offers.Frankly, I enjoy the company of lesbians for that very reason. They are there to have a good time. Gay men, on the contrary, act starved for sex and these parties are the perfect haunts for them. Also, if you have money, then nothing’s stopping you. Except the cop who rolls in at 3 and asks you to vacate.We are at the cusp of attaining our sexual rights in India as LGBTQIA individuals. Yet the gay men, especially (because they are still men after all), fail to understand that there is a time and luxury afforded to us in the metro cities that several people in this nation and many countries in the world are not used to.I hope to one day roll into a club and enjoy the music like I used to when I was 13, and I hope that one day there will be equal number of people worried about sexual health conversations as the number of people who care about what Madonna number is playing next.(Navin Noronha is a comedian, improv artist, writer and podcaster, who exists in a constant limbo between emotionally vacant and sentimentally charged. He tweets at @houseofnoronha. This is an opinion piece. The views expressed above are the author’s own.The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)

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‘As a Gay Man, I Can’t Stand Gay Parties. Here’s Why’

Despite its inclusive setting, gay parties have always managed to make me feel like an outsider.

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