The Last Letter

  “Life isn’t fair. It’s just fairer than death, that’s all”

                                       - William Goldman,  ”The Princess Bride”

 

Dear friend,

                     How are you? I am sorry I could not mail you for so long. I was having a lot of problems. I am Vivan, the 18 yr old boy. Do you remember me? We talked for sometime through e-mails a month or so back.

      If you still remember me….. I want to thank you for your prayers. You were the only person who knew that I am a homosexual. Thanks for being there to listen to me. You were the only person who did not hate me for being gay. You were the only person who understood that being gay is not a curse; gays are not mentally retarded or physically handicapped. You were the only person who actually understood the pain and agony I was undergoing, probably because you have also undergone the same. Thank you so very much for being there for me and listening to me…

      My parents saw some gay pictures I had saved in my computer. They were very angry. My dad nearly killed me that night. He hit me with everything that he could get a hold of. He even threw a tube light on my head but I some how saved myself from it. He even kicked me on my genitals. I was bleeding all over and my elder sister saved me from him. I was bleeding all over- my nose, my head, my mouth and my ears. My parents did not talk to me for the next two days. My dad took leave from office to make sure I was not given food and my wounds were not treated. My sister was asked to live with her friends. She was not allowed to see me. For two days I was not given food, I used to drink tap water secretly when my father used to go for a bath or fruits when my mother was not around. I thought of running away but I love my parents so much that I did not want to leave them. I cried so much that the tears had dried but my crying won’t stop. After two days, in the middle of the night my mother woke me up. She gave me two bananas to eat and some snacks. Though my hunger had died, I was glad that my mother was showing some love to me. The wounds of my mouth had not healed, so when I ate the salted snacks the wounds became red and it pained so much that I made a strangled cry. My dad woke up and beat me so hard that my left wrist fractured. The third day he talked to Mrs. Sareen, a very popular psychologist and teacher in my school, for advice. She must have told him about some hospitals in Bombay. My parents took me there. The entire journey my wrist ached. My parents ensured that I don’t talk to anybody. Everybody in the flight could understand that there was something wrong, but nobody cared to ask. We went straight to the hospital. I was kept under supervision of two ward boys in a storeroom for the entire day. They treated my wounds and fracture. Every one who enquired about me was told by the wardens that I am crazy. People used to look at me with disgust as if I was one. The entire day I thought about my childhood, the happy times of my life, all the expectations my family had from me. I blamed and hated myself for being gay. If I was not gay, all this would not have happened to me.

That night my treatment began. My X ray scan was taken followed by urine and blood tests. I was given an injection to sedate me as I was not able to sleep because of the panic and shock I was suffering.

“GOD!!! DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO ANYBODY!!!”

        The next day I was woken up in the morning by the sound of an airplane. I saw the morning sun through my window. It was beautiful. The first thing I remembered was you,  it made me feel nice because I knew if I told you what was happening to me, you would understand. The second thing I thought about was my first and only lip kiss in the 8^th Standard with my friend Pavan. It was with him when I realized I am gay. Somehow thinking about my time with him and about you brought a smile on my face. And suddenly I started crying. The pain was unbearable. I turned to go back to bed but suddenly I felt dizzy and fainted. I gained conscience when the doctor sprinkled water on my face. I was tied to the bed. I could not even move my head. He gave me two injections. And then… the most painful treatment began… I was given electric shocks again and again and again. Even my lungs started to burn. As if the blood of my whole body used to boil every time they gave me shock. I wanted to shout, I wanted to stop them. I wanted to hide in my mother’s arms. But I could not say anything. They continued to give me shocks till I fell unconscious. My gums, legs and arms were swollen because of the shock treatment. I was not even able to walk or even hold anything. I can’t tell u how much it hurt.

      In the evening I was taken to a doctor, on a wheel chair who talked about my sexuality. I was having so much of pain that I could not understand what he was saying. My father was sitting behind me. I wanted to tell him that I am sorry that I am gay. I didn’t want him to be ashamed of me. But all I did was to stare at the doctor. He told me that if I don’t “change” he will give me another round of shock treatment. I agreed to do everything he said. He talked about a lot of things but all I could think of was my dad, mom and sister Anna. That night my  parents came to my room. My father told me that he will not consider me as his son if I don’t “change”. My mom was crying. She lovingly put her hand on my head and it felt like I should die this very moment. I am giving all the pain to such loving parents. I hated myself like anything.

      The next day I was given bath after 4 or 5 days. My dad brought ‘Dosa’ for me and the taste was heavenly. I was taken to the doctor. The doctor talked a lot asking me about any sexual experiences, masturbation or molestation. Then he showed me pictures of beautiful girls and asked me how I felt about them. He then started showing me photos of nude girls, telling me fantasies of how I should make love to them. I started crying but he went on mentally pressurizing me. I tried to run out of the room but he called the ward boys who took me to the shock treatment room. I was once again given shock treatment. After I fainted, he sprinkled water on my face and once I gained consciousness, he started his treatment again. This went on, I can’t tell how long. I was bed ridden for the next 3 days and had already lost the track of time. My whole body was in pain. The nurse used to put water in my mouth sometimes. My thirst and hunger was eating me, but the pain in my heart was slowly killing me…..

        Why was God doing this to me? Where did I go wrong? Am I so bad that I should be given so much pain? Why has God made me like this? And many more questions seemed to stare at me awaiting an answer. My past, present and my future were staring at me. As if the time had come to a stand still. I was feeling lonely. I would have killed myself if I could get up….

      These three days were full of silence. I thought a lot. I thought about how I used to jerk off thinking about my Physics teacher or some handsome men. How I got an erection seeing my class mates. There was no doubt I was gay. I liked men. How can I “change”? Is it impossible for me to change? I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want electric shocks.  I don’t want to have this pain. There are so many gays in this world. Being gay is not a sin! Oscar Wilde was gay. Alexander was gay. Caesar was a bisexual. Alfred Marshall and Adam smith were gay. Iliad and Odyssey talked about gay sex. Kama sutra talks about homosexuality. Even God Zeus made love to his daughter’s husband. There are European cities which are full of gays. A lot of countries show tolerance towards gays! So why should I be hated for being gay?

      I woke up early morning. There was pin drop silence. The sun had not risen. I gathered strength to sit up. Somehow I felt stronger. What next? This was all I could think of. I remembered the lines I once heard: “if where you are, makes you who you are, then what you want to be is what u eventually become.” I thought,” I am not a bad person. I have not done anything wrong! God made me gay! If this world and my parents can’t accept it, I can’t help it either. I am not going to kill myself everyday or live with the fear of being hated! I am gay- this is me! And if you have to love me, love me as a gay, love me for who I am. And if u can’t – you don’t love me enough.  I don’t remember when I fell asleep….

      That day the doctor woke me up. I hated his face! Motherf****, daughterf****, sonf****, bloody bast***! I can’t tell u how much I hated him. I wish I could kill him!

The warden took me to the washroom, cleaned me up. I was given lime water to drink till I vomited, so that all the acids were thrown out. Then I was given food. That motherf*** doctor asked me to cooperate with him in “changing” me or he will continue giving me shocks. He said I am wasting my youth. Every word he uttered made me mad. I was angry! I was going to attack him and kill him but just then, my dad came in! It felt as if I was seeing him after generations! All the anger turned into emotions and I started crying. I shouted to dad and begged him to forgive me. I was his son. I know it was hard for him to see me suffer. I told him “I am sorry”. Even he started crying, and ordered everyone to go out of the room. He said he will take me home if I tell him that I have “changed”. I could not believe it. My dad who was proud of me one month back hates me so much!!! He wants me to “change” as if I had a choice. Can’t he feel the pain I am suffering? Is this not my life?  At that moment, everything became clear to me! He wants me to change because he does not want to give up on his expectations. He is scared my homosexuality will change his life too. The problem is not me, the problem is he! It is hard for him to bear the shame of my homosexuality. That was the most painful moment of my life! I am ready to sacrifice everything for my parents. I could die for them. But my sexuality is a part of me. God made me like this. How can they blame me for being gay? Do I have a choice? If they really want my happiness, if they really love me enough, why don’t they accept me who I am! True love is only when you accept a person as who he is! I will hide it no more! I will not give up on myself! My homosexuality- bliss or curse; it is what makes me complete. I am not going to endure this much of pain. I give up! My heart ached so much that I could not speak. I just turned my face from him. He went out of the room crying…

      I was alone in the room for a very long time. I wished all the men and women would turn into homosexuals and this idea made me laugh! And suddenly I was laughing uncontrollably for a long time.  Then suddenly I stopped. What was happening to me? Was I becoming mad? I wish I could die, and I started crying. Then the doctor came in again. He showed sympathy towards me and told me that I need not be sad about being gay. He said that there are a lot of gays in the world. I looked at him amazed. ‘So he knew all about gays and still he is giving me this treatment! I tried to get up to beat him but lost my balance and collapsed. I scolded and cursed him and his family. He stood there for a long time and when I stopped shouting he kicked me on my chest. The wardens came and put me on bed. I cried and they tied me to bed so tightly that I could not even move. Eventually I went to sleep.

I had a dream. I saw that I was running a race and my parents were cheering for me. I won the race and when I was about to touch my parents feet, Pavan (my first kiss) came and took me in his arms and kissed me. Everybody started clapping. My dad smiled and said, “Son, Life is full of unexpected things, you can never know what life gives you but you have to take the best out of it and never stop daring, never give up.” I was woken up at night by a ward boy. He was young and sympathized with me. He did not know why I was here. He spoke to me for sometime. I was smiling when he went away. After he left, I suddenly realized I was lonely again.

The next morning my Mom and Dad woke me up. My mother told that she can’t bear my condition. She indirectly told me that I should lie to dad and tell him that I have “changed” or else she would die. The doctor was on leave for two days, so my mother and I had some time to convince dad. My dad was not really happy but he too wanted to get out of this mess. I was too weak to move or do anything. So I was admitted to another hospital for recovery. My fracture had become really serious. I was advised bed rest for a month but I recovered in a week.

My dad is not convinced by my assurance that I have “changed”. My mother is very worried about who will carry our name forward, a name taker through marriage as I will not be able to reproduce. But I am trying to convince her that science has the answers to her questions. She is not pro-adoption and unable to understand anything about homosexuality, but trying her level best to understand me. I got out of the hospital a few days back. I am living with my cousin and her husband. Anna (my sister) is not very happy with the news that I am gay. I have not met her for such a long time but I know she will understand me. My dad is taking me back home soon. I know things are not going to be the same between dad and me. But I know that big changes need big sacrifices. My mother and sister will support me. I would say it is a good starting as I have already suffered the worst. I know gradually my mother, sister and I will be able to convince my dad and make him accept my sexuality.

I don’t know how long will I take to email this letter to you and I don’t think I will ever be able to meet you. I don’t want to meet you also, because I want to love a boy of my age. I don’t remember your age but I know you are 4-5 years older than me. But I want to be your friend and maybe have sex also, but I don’t want to love you. Please don’t get hurt. I like you a lot. I will not be able to forget this time of my life. It was the worst, but my mind is very clear now. I know I will be fine and gay lifelong. There is no fear, no suffocation… And soon there will be no lack of love…

I am Vivan. If you still remember me, please reply. You are my only gay friend.  And thank you a lot for being there..                                                                                                                                         

                                                                                                           Yours Vivan

 

 That was the last time I ever heard from him. I sent him several emails to know how he was, and if he was being treated well by his family. But when I failed to get a response, I decided to seek help from another online friend who happened to live in the same town. Coincidentally, the guy turned out to be Vivan’s classmate and admirer. He was, to my utter surprise, Pavan- the first kiss boy of Vivan. Pavan used to visit Vivan’s house and update me on his health and recovery. But still there was an unflinching desire burning in me, a thirst to talk to my Vivan, to listen to his stories of torture and tribulations. I wanted to steal him from his family and take him away from everyone who hated gays. I wanted to pamper and cuddle him, prepare warm soup and feed him while we sat in our own little chalet overlooking two mountains. I wanted to be with him and make him forget his past.

 A month had gone by. One afternoon our mutual friend Pavan called me. I picked up the phone with an ineffable alacrity as if my sixth sense had shrugged me up from slumber. He was quiet for a few seconds and then wept bitterly. I felt bile rising in my throat and I felt choked. “Vivan is no more…..he was on his bike when a truck ran over him…Death on the spot…He had a friend with him who survived. He was serious but doctors say he will survive…it happened yester…………….” The rest of the words seemed to fade away somewhere as if I never cared for the rest or for any other life form. I didn’t remember when Pavan hung up; I was still holding the mobile in one hand and a piece of black forest cake in the other. It was his favorite too…

 For everybody, he died in an accident; we all knew that he was a reckless biker. He told me how he enjoyed speeding his bike with his shirt unbuttoned only to seduce the other boys around. But for me he neither died in an accident nor committed suicide. He was murdered 2 months ago by his parents, by our ignorance, by us…

                             He lost his life and I lost my ‘first true gay friend’ forever…