Friends, I wrote it about 2 years ago...the language is s**itty but I shoud share thsi experience with people who care....
A DIFFERENT KIND OF FREEDOM
I had to come out to my friends. I mean: I HAD to. Otherwise, like previous years, this year also, I would have to pass an opportunity to participate in an event I had been waiting for such a long time. So, after a long wound-up-background of confusing hints and riddles, I finally got to the point and told them, I am g**y.
I could have told them as soon as they came to the US a month ago. But I thought it was probably not a good idea to tell them right away because they were meeting me after a long time and a sudden break of such news could have a different effect on our friendship. Therefore I waited until we warmed up with each other and it was just like the old days again. Before letting them to my secret, I just wanted to reassure them that I am the same guy that they had known for past 15 years.
Despite all that precautions, it was still hard and yet, not as bad as I thought at first. As doctors, they already knew about the hom*s*xuality, an anomaly on which, only Mother Nature has control.
Anyways, now that I had already dropped the bomb, I could not wait to tell them about this great event also, which was coming up next week. Not only that, with some cajoling, I even had them agree to go and see the “big event†with me. So, there we went, all the way to Chicago, a 5 hours drive from where I lived, to observe “The 36th Annual G**y Pride Parade.†Of course, I had to tell them that the trip was primarily for their sightseeing and observing the Parade was only a part of it.
We went to Chicago a day ahead so that we had ample time for sightseeing. As always, this time also, Chicago did not fail to fascinate me. With its outstanding architecture, clean streets, skyscrapers and history that epitomize the willpower of human, it is a great city. The next day was saved for visiting the Sears tower and the long awaited G**y Parade.
It was already 2 pm, the next day, when we got off from the bus on our way from Sears Tower. Since most of the streets in Boystown (a g**y established area) were blocked for the parade that day, we had to walk quite a while before we could get to the eventful Halstead Street. We made it there just in time to see the parade passing by. I had been to Halstead Street before and I liked it not only because it was the main g**y street but also it was clean and nice with good quality restaurants and bars and an ambient atmosphere. But this time, Halstead was different, with thousands of people crammed in to see the Parade, there was hardly any room to put a step; I could hardly tell where was where.
The sight was interesting. People were dressed in vibrant colors, singing and dancing in pulsating rhythms. Quite a few were dressed in drags. Same s*x couples were walking together hand in hand waving at the roadside crowd. G**ys, l**sbians, transs**xuals, transvestites, bis**xuals, straights, all kind of people were there. Windows of all the roadside buildings were full with enthusiastic spectators. All the shops and buildings were decorated with rainbow colored flags proudly representing diversity. All the restaurants and bars were operating out in the open and exuberance was in the air.
The most interesting thing was that when we reached there; about half of the crowd was not even g**y. They were ordinary straight people: mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, friends and relatives of g**ys and a lot of other free willing participants too. They were all there that day because they had in one way or the other seen and suffered the inequality of **xual minorities. They were there because they cared, they were there because they loved and they were there because they believed in the philosophy of live and let live.
My friends were excited to see the glitter of the parade. For them, it was an interesting exploration, an atmosphere they had never experienced before. But for me, it was a time of reflection, a time of sad happiness as I realized that 4 years ago, probably on the same day, I was crying alone in a bathroom trying to console myself that it was just a phase and it would be over, while the truth was that phase never got over. But standing there that day, I felt lucky to have found a place where I was free, not only politically but also socially and spiritually, to express myself.
As I was thinking this, my heart went out to hundreds and thousands of Nepali brothers and sisters who were suffering in their silences every day, every hour, every minute, and probably that very instant also, silently bearing the pain, while, the other side of the world was enjoying freedom. While in Nepal, being g**y or a l**sbian was a shame; here is US, people were not only open about it but also proud of it.
I think I went too deep into my own thoughts that I did not even realize when the Parade passed our block. May be we had reached there at the end of the Parade. I looked at my friends. I felt happy that I had such good friends, not only them, but also many others who tried to understand and accept me despite my different orientation. May be I was too happy at that moment and may be cried again, I do not remember. My blurry eyes could only see the arms of my friends close up my face.
They were hugging me.
