Give me your hand, and then a ring

In 2013, I attended my first gay party at Karma Lounge on Charni Road, and it was an unforgettable experience. The venue was alive with vibrant energy, filled with men; many of them were dressed in black, just like me.

- Rohit Kamble

I arrived with a group of friends I had met on a WhatsApp group, and in that moment, I felt a sense of liberation. Surrounded by people who shared my sexuality, I felt accepted and understood in a way I had never experienced before. It was like finally, finding a place, where I could be my authentic self, embracing my identity as a gay man.

I hoped to find a connection among the crowd — someone whose hand I could hold tightly. A friend had once described ‘love’ to me as a hand you keep holding, long after it has got sweaty. I longed for that kind of connection — a deep and meaningful bond with someone, who could see and cherish me for who I truly am.

Ten years have passed since that first party, and here I am, still surrounded by familiar faces in the club. Even now, the sequins continue to sparkle; the music pulses through the air. But I am still without a partner. Each time I leave the club, I tell myself it’s the last time. But come Friday, and another black outfit falls off my closet, waiting to be donned and accompanies me to yet another party. After a decade of dating, casual encounters, three failed relationships, and an exorbitant amount of money spent on fancy clothes, drinks, and unnecessary cab rides, I am exhausted. I wonder... what’s missing? Why haven't I found the right guy to embark on a new chapter with? Is there a secret recipe for monogamy that I am yet to discover? Most of the gay men I know are not in committed, wholesome relationships, either. So, I doubt that I am alone in my loneliness. And if that's the case, shouldn't we be supporting each other — beyond physical and carnal desires?