© Mahesh Natarajan

Extract from 'Facsimile'

At his wedding, my brother-in-law insisted that I get a picture taken with his uncle, Seetharaman. Th ere was no way I could say no, not because I wanted to be good to him, but because I was the bride's brother and was expected to acquiesce.

I resented it. I posed glumly next to the man. He seemed equally disinterested in the picture. Finally, the photograph did not make it to their wedding album, but my brother-in-law mailed prints to my parents, his uncle, and a few others.

'Sunil in about thirty years, or vice versa,' was his caption for the picture.

I admit to a faint resemblance. Our eyes looked equally bleary behind our glasses. And both of us were a litt le chubby. We even shared similar warts on our noses. Th e way my hairline had started receding, it did seem that in about fi ft een years I would look quite like he did now.

What interested my brother-in-law was not just the facial resemblance. Seetharaman maama (Seenu maama, as they called him) and I were both confirmed bachelors.

My sister took the resemblances to heart.

'I think he is also gay,' she whispered to me one day. 'Of course, nobody talks about it, and I cannot ask, but it certainly seems so.'

She was the only one in the family who knew I was gay. I had not intended to tell her but, a couple of years back, when she was home from college, we went for a local play together. From my responses to the male protagonist she caught on, and soon confronted me.

Initially, I tried denying that my interest was anything more than an aesthetic appreciation.

'Oh, come on, Sunil,' she said. 'I have always suspected you were gay. You can tell me, you know.'

I told her she was right, but added quickly that I did not want anybody else to know.

'Of course, I am not going to say anything to anybody. It is your choice when you wish to come out. Even to Amma and Appa.'

She was true to her word. Whenever Amma frett ed to her about me, she said, 'Let him be. Or ask him. Don't bug me about it.'

I don't think she told even Ravi.

Uma was not inquisitive about my gay life, but referred to it in passing every now and then, as she did while speaking of Seenu maama's sexuality.

'What makes you think that?' I asked.

'Isn't it obvious? He is so like you!'

It was not obvious to me.

My mother did not like being told I was like Seenu maama. She worried that I would take him on as a role model.

'Just because they say you look like him doesn't mean you have to live like him, you hear?' she warned. 'Look at him. Living like a sanyasi in a small fl at in the middle of Vadodara! Doesn't have anybody to even ask if he has eaten. Who would know if he fell ill? He would simply have to lie on his bed, and the place would stink.'

She did not mince words when painting pictures of what my life would be like if I continued to be 'obstinate'.

'He seems happy enough.' I did not particularly want to defend Seenu maama, but felt I had to say something.

'Of course, you would say that now,' Mother said scornfully. 'Just you wait. I only hope it won't be too late for you.'

My father had little to say. When shown the picture, he said dryly, 'One more picture to sit and gather dust somewhere.'

Aft er their wedding, my sister and Ravi moved to Melbourne, had kids, and settled down.

She used to visit us twice a year before she had Ashwath. Now, with Ashwath in school, and Aditi just a baby, her visits were fewer. When she did visit, they were hectic aff airs with lots of relatives and rounds of temples.

She still managed to spend a week at home in Madurai with my parents, and I always took that week off to be with all of them.

Even those were full of activity. Two young kids took up all our time and energy. Family was always around and, when conversations turned to my marriage, which they invariably did with Mother around, Uma would look at me sympathetically. I knew she was always there for me, and would support me whenever I decided to come out, but there was litt le opportunity for us to talk at length.

In whatever litt le time we got to ourselves, we played a quick catch-up.

'No, I have not found a serious boyfriend yet; and yes, I am safe'.

It would have been nice to talk to her in detail about a few prospective boyfriends. So far, none had lasted more than three months, but I didn't think it appropriate to burden her with my turmoil.

It was comforting enough to know that she was there should I want to talk.

Every time Ravi and Uma came, they brought up the topic of Seenu maama. Invariably, as soon as Ravi saw me, he commented on how very like Seenu maama I was becoming, and how he really wished they could visit him.

'He asks about you every time we talk to him,' Ravi beamed. My sister nodded enthusiastically. 'He wanted me to tell you to call on him if you are ever in that part of the town.'

'Aiyo!' I groaned. 'Do you have to bring up Seenu maama every time you see me? Okay, I will look like him in a few decades, but can I please be myself until then?'

'Hmm, it is amazing how everything about both of you is so similar.'

Uma was like a bull dog, and never let go.

During their last visit, Seenu maama had called to speak to them. Much to my embarrassment, Ravi insisted that I speak to him.

'Here is Sunil, Seenu maama. Remember him? Uma's brother who looks like your Xerox copy? Here, talk to him.'

My frantic gesturing did not help. Th e phone was thrust upon my hand, and Uma and Ravi listened eagerly.

'Hello, Seenu maama,' I said reluctantly.

'Sunil?' he asked jovially. He seemed to be in good spirits. 'I hear you are doing well. Good. It is always nice to see youngsters doing well for themselves.'

I mumbled something in return.

My mother happened to come by. 'Who are you speaking to?'

'Seenu maama,' said Uma.

'Oh, I wanted him to advise Sunil,' she said. Th en she turned the speaker phone peremptorily, and started off . 'Seenu, I am Sasikala here - Uma's mother. How are you?'

'Maami, how nice to hear your voice!' he said, addressing my mother as he generally did. 'I am good, thank you. Of course, I get to talk to you only when Uma is around.'

'Yes, yes,' my mother agreed impatiently. 'Seenu, you are a family elder. I need you to do something.'

'Anything, maami. Just tell me.'

I was already scarlet with fury. I knew where she was going.

'Seenu, please don't mind, but I need you to give Sunil some good advice.'