Somewhere Under the Rainbow

Aninthitha Nath, Class of 2021

Twiddling my rainbow pin, I sat on the metro, eyeing the route to Rajiv Chowk. Colours flooded the compartment — blue and purple ribbons on wrists, faces already smeared in rainbow, and eyeliner melting in the unexpected warmth. Jostling my way out, I followed the colours to Tolstoy Marg, looking for some familiar faces. A quick call confirmed that my friends were towards the front of the parade. I wormed my way through the sequins and posters, until an excited squeal confirmed that I was in the right place. “Oh honey, this couldn’t be gayer”, my friend exclaimed, and I chuckled. I stood under a flagpole and waved away the billowing smoke while they painted rainbows across my face.

We marched under the balloon arch, hips swaying to the beat, and clicked pictures of every poster we came across. It was all so shiny and exciting; the sheer magnitude and diversity of the crowd was enough to make me hover above the ground. People were loud and queer, and the novelty never wore off. Pride is a lot of things to a lot of people: a protest, a party, an open stage, but to me, it was…gay, in every sense of the word.

“1 2 3 4, open up your closet doors, 5 6 7 8, don’t assume you kids are straight”, we shouted till our voices were hoarse. I looked down at my phone, and hesitated. My fingers edged towards the chat but kept backing off at the last minute. I took a deep breath and forwarded all the pictures I’d taken to my family. They weren’t homophobic; they knew, and were very accepting of the community. They even wished me luck when I made an offhand comment about going to Pride. That unwarranted hesitation still lurked, and I didn’t exhale until the little dots on the screen gave way to, “Nice pictures kanna, you look very happy. Enjoy!”

I took my friend’s hand and crossed the road. Police barricades had stopped the traffic for us and I couldn’t help but think how this was the “Move I’m gay” vine come to life. It was heartwarming to see groups of school kids in their uniforms. The fact that they were out there to support the March meant that times were changing for us and conversations about the LGBTQ community weren’t completely hushed up.

The crowd swept us away under a giant rainbow flag, and we moved along holding the flag up for a stretch. It felt safe under the rainbow, filtered sunbeams dancing on the faces in the crowd.

Somewhere under the rainbow, were entwined fingers.

Somewhere under the rainbow, were gentle caresses.

Somewhere under the rainbow, was love.

And maybe someday, it’ll be over the rainbow.