The Mother Of All Pink Parties

What.A.Party. If there was one question this party could ask all other parties, it would be this: Who’s Your Mommy?

Last night, the queer community and the allies came out (no pun intended) in full force to celebrate the 2-year anniversary of the reading down of Section 377. And I have to say, we sure know how to throw a fucking party.

Brainchild of Ma Faiza (doubt she needs an introduction), the bash was held at the much-loved music club, Blue Frog. The setting was perfect. Outside, there were stalls – tattoos, hair, make-up, clothes, accessories, and more. Unfortunately, the cops shut them down for want of licences. Inside, the air was thick with anticipation and filled with thumping music.

A very cute host (who reminded me of Alan Cummings) took the crowd through the night’s performances. Not surprisingly, I felt like I was at The Planet in The L Word. Cat calls, wolf whistles and loud applause punctuated performances by Queens (with their feather boas in tow), a stand-up comedy act by our very own Tappy Tippy, and performances by Alisha & Alisha. And then, Ma Faiza took the stage. From there on, it was something else. Words won’t do justice.

The floor was P.A.C.K.E.D. Fuck the floor, the entire place was packed. Outside, inside, loos, bars, tables, wherever, everywhere. There were people waiting *outside* Blue Frog, Waiting for people to leave so they could get in. People were forking up 500 bucks just to get in even when there were just minutes left for the whole show to end. It was insane. I’ve seen this kind of crowd at Blue Frog only on two other occasions – the Dub FX gig and the Indian Ocean gig. Last night was up there with those two. I personally think that last night gave the folks at Blue Frog a sweet taste of the power of Pink money. And I wouldn’t be surprised if they start throwing LGBT parties in the coming days. If they don’t, they’re fools.

Since my gaydar pretty much doesn’t exist, I don’t know who was family and who were just friends. But it didn’t matter. The sheer number of people blew my mind. It was a hint of the change that is happening all around us in India. The wave that is sweeping across our society, cultures and mindsets. It was a testimony to crumbling taboos. And every cheer was the sound of societal norms and labels being blown to smithereens.

It was crazy. It was awesome (Both understatements of the year). I’m still getting over how good it was. And to think that I was actually considering not going. Heh.

I *CANNOT* wait for the next one.


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Lady Jughead lives and writes in the city she loves and hates, Bombay. Without meaning to and harbouring mixed feelings about it (You’ll see the irony in just a bit), she’s forever wandering in the murkiness that exists between straight and gay, clear and clueless, butch and femme, cute and hot, and genius and insane. All of which leave her with a question that often occupies a significant portion of her cognitive capacity – is she Just Perfect or is she falling fast into the deep chasm of obscurity called Just Average?
Lady Jughead

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