Hopes for a resolution of the standoff arising out of the SC judgement on homosexuality perked up after Narendra Modi’s Independence Day speech at the Red Fort. No, he did not speak about the rights of gay men and women, but he did speak about rape, and in that respect, he chose, refreshingly, to adopt a stance that is not only forward-looking but deviates significantly from the Sangh parivar’s stand on the issue.

Modi, in a section of the speech that has been universally celebrated, urged parents not to put restrictions on their daughters, rather question their sons about the company they kept. “Those who rape are someone’s sons,” he intoned, in a classic reversal of the blame game that surrounds sexual violence in India and which always, in some respect or the other, focuses on women. He also launched a scathing attack on the practice of female foeticide by speaking of women who had chosen to forsake marriage to take care of their parents.

Early last year, in the wake of the Nirbhaya gang-rape, RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat had said: “Rapes occur in India, not Bharat,” in an attempt to lay the blame for sexual violence at the doors of westernisation and its attendant cultural influences. That Modi chose not to hark to this distinction in his address indicates where his priorities lie.

That said, homosexuality may not find the same support as women’s rights in this government. After the Supreme Court ruling on Section 377, Rajnath Singh, then BJP President, reiterated his party’s support for the ruling, calling gay sex “unnatural”. Among Modi’s ministers, only Arun Jaitley has publicly spoken against the Section which criminalises sexual acts “against the order of nature”, rendering homosexual acts illegal. This at a time when neighbouring Nepal is drafting a new Constitution which, reports from that country indicate, will not only decriminalise homosexuality but also allow for same sex marriage.

The fight for homosexual rights, lest we forget, will be a long drawn one. The LGBT community in India can draw inspiration from their counterparts in the US where, even though the debate has shifted to marriage, progress on the matter is painfully slow. Between the federal and various state governments, there are myriad laws that battle with the judiciary to produce a miasma of rules that make study of the movement at best tedious.

Even if homosexuality were to be legalised in India tomorrow, it would be many years before we begin to see the fruits of true equality. I know of gay people who are tired of this seemingly never-ending fight. Their long-held breath, which every now and then they allow themselves to let out, finds the relief short-lived. If one door opens, another is shut in their face. Little wonder gay people pooh-pooh social norms and some go so far as to recommend the establishment of kibbutz-style colonies where gay people live with and care for one another.

Be that as it may, what Modi did from the ramparts of Red Fort is a promising beginning. I have often felt that the fight for greater equality, be it premised on gender, caste, religion, region, or sexual orientation, is really a fight against received wisdom and old wives’ tales. Our sociocultural existence is littered with instances of the subaltern — to introduce, I agree, a needlessly academic word into the debate — being shown its place. Women must cover themselves appropriately; people from the northeast eat smelly food; gay men are sexual predators; and so on.

One such stereotype that anyone growing up in India has heard again and again is the curse of dowry that parents of the girl child have to bear. Yes, education and greater awareness have improved matters, but so insidious are claims pertaining to dowry that they continue to hold a certain diabolical resonance in collective consciousness. By attacking the dowry argument at its very roots, Modi reshaped the debate comprehensively.

This “reshaping” is called for more frequently, and across platforms. The Naz Foundation, which was the first to petition the Delhi High Court for decriminalisation of homosexuality, has been a pioneer in the field of gay rights. Yet, activism can only achieve so much. More important is visibility, not just of the sort found in oped pages and at seminars, but in mass culture. Several studies have shown the salutary effect that gay sitcom Will and Grace had on softening Americans’ attitude towards homosexuality.

Visibility in mass media makes those, so far seen only as the “other”, more relatable. True, mass culture in India, when it does deign to give space to homosexuals, tends only to caricaturise them. But that’s a start. When one says that there should be realistic portrayal, one does not imply that gayness must be “cleaned” of its traditional stereotypes. No, that would be problematic too. What one does ask for, however, is greater diversity in portrayal.

Second, there is an urgent need to remove the cocoon surrounding important movements that speak of, and to, only those they affect. A friend suggested a few weeks ago that I write a column about the recent suicide of a lesbian woman in Chhattisgarh which had not been reported by mainstream media. Indeed, when I searched Google News for “lesbian suicide India”, links from 2011 and earlier showed up. (Rest assured, if it is a dastardly event, chances it happened earlier in India are high.) There was only one mention of the Chhattisgarh story — inside a review of a film about lesbians (in Mint). My friend wanted me to write about the media silence.

My heart goes out to the lesbian but there is a real possibility of my pieces on gay rights being reduced to bleeding heart status, since I am gay myself, and therefore, it is natural, the assumption goes, for me to write about them. But you see, that should especially be avoided. I don’t want to become a gay writer, not because I am not proud but because I don’t want to reduce gay rights to something whose dead body is carried to the morgue by queens like me, with no breeder in attendance. A lesbian’s death is tragic because it affects us all, because it says something about the society we live in, not just because she was a lesbian.

Finally, and this might sound churlish, but there is no escaping the hierarchy that is naturally built into the concerns the media and others have the space to raise. In a country where women face a myriad of assaults on their dignity every day, how does one decide the priority of one’s umbrage? How does one pick the cross one must bear when the choice is among violence on account of gender, caste, creed, and sexual orientation?

One then, I believe, ought to build upon tiny day-to-day victories to help fashion a consciousness that is more open and generous. That the Prime Minister took a step in that direction is indeed worth celebrating.