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Disclosure: I've been living in India for the past two and half years, but I spent my teens (high school and two years of college) in the US.Here's what my experience of becoming an openly gay Indian male has been like:Elementary school years: Like several gay men, I demonstrated a couple of gender-deviant behavior patterns even when I was a child. While my brother was off playing sports or messing around with his action figures, I would stay at home and read story books and play "ship-ship" or "family-family" with my teddy bears. My parents tried to get me into sports, but it never really worked out - I preferred books to the competitive and brute school playground setting. Also, being south Indian, I learned a little Bharathanatyam and Carnatic music as a kid (my dad was strongly against my mum sending me off for dance classes, but I enjoyed it and took a real shine to it), not to mention helping my mum out in the kitchen and learning how to cook simple Indian food like dosas and chapattis (again, my dad resented the fact that I - "a man" - was "allowed into the kitchen.").Middle school years: The dance classes stopped - the official excuse was that we moved to a different country and we couldn't find a teacher, but I suspect things were a little murkier, because there were several Indian families living there. My dad enrolled me for karate classes and I was admitted to an all-boys school. Largely deprived of female company, this is when I first became acutely aware of gender differences. I found myself checking out both guys and girls, thinking about the topography of their bodies and how similar or different it was to my own body. It was a beautiful experience: I gained a sexual awareness I never had before. I would fantasize about making love to both genders; my dreams were vivid. I developed a key "best friend" (Pranoy) with whom I shared everything. We kind of had our sexual awakenings together (I trusted him to the point where I told him I'd fantasized about kissing another bloke). And then my dad got a transfer and we moved to another country. I was admitted to a top ranked private co-ed school and I found myself in 8th grade, far far more aesthetically in tune than all my peers. Life as a mature, but deeply sensitive, middleschooler was hard. I managed to make a couple of friends (largely female, one of whom -Ditsa- I developed serious feelings for) and my teachers were pretty supportive. I started writing about my feelings - navigating through my sexual desires in the form of short erotic stories. My mum found out about the stories and threw a fit. Something in me broke, and my writing has never flowed as freely since. My dad got a transfer, and after a short stint in Germany, we shifted to Houston, Texas.High school years: By this stage, I knew I was "different" in many ways. I also knew my sexual orientation was different. However, I kept myself totally closeted. Several people could probably tell there was something off about me, but most of them ascribed that to me being a shy little uber-nerd. I never got bullied, and no one ever asked me if I was into men. I was just the smart Indian kid with the mixed foreign accent. However, in high school, I began to finally forge my wings: By day, I would be the overachieving International Baccalaureate candidate -taking eight IB classes straight and volunteering at a cancer clinic and working in a research lab (yada yada yada), and by night (and on the weekends) I lead a secret life: When my whole family was sleeping, I would go online and soak up as much information as I could on homosexuality as possible. I watched porn. I read stories. I watched shows like Queer as Folk (U.S. TV series). I went to the library and would pour over all the queer literature that was available. I became an informal student of social psychology, reading all I could about lgbt behavior and its representation in visual and print media. Essentially, I laid a very solid theoretical framework.Coming out to my parents: I had graduated with honors from high school and accepted an offer to attend Hopkins. In a couple of weeks I would be turning eighteen, and I wanted to mark that occasion by doing something special: I considered it my passport into adulthood, and therefore, freedom and independence from the tyranny of having lived with parents who were loving but over-controlling to the point of suffocation. And so, I went to the library, and issued all those LGBT books I'd been covertly reading - books which had titles like How to talk to your gay child: An introduction to gay parenting or various queer short stories and fiction (Christopher Isherwood comes to mind). I took these books and planted them all over the house. In the living room, in the kitchen, in my parents bedroom, etc. True to the nerd that I was, I hoped my parents would take notice these books and initiate the dialogue - it never happened. They clearly saw the books (I left one in the kitchen oven for crying out loud!), but they either intentionally didn't want to talk about it or they might have deluded themselves into thinking that it was some anthropology research project I was working on. The plan had failed. I knew I'd have to tell them myself. And so, on my 18th birthday, I spent one perfect day alone, by myself, away from my parents. I went out into the city, walked several miles to a dear friend's home and bid him farewell (we were going to different colleges - he didn't know it was my birthday, but it was magical all the same), ate Itallian food alone at Carraba's Grill -which was high-end for me - I'd never done it before, and finally I went and saw the midnight premier of Sex and the City. I returned home very late at night. My parents were up waiting for me. "Mum, dad, I'm gay."Their response: Shock, indignation, fear, anger, sadness, tears, irrationality, tantrums. The next month was hard, now that this topic had been broached. I desperately wanted them to make efforts to understand all that I had been through. My dad desperately wanted to know "who poisoned you with all these Western ideas?" I immersed myself in research full time, leaving home early in the morning and returning home late at night just in time for dinner and bed. A month went by, and it was time to fly to Baltimore, MD to begin my life as a freshman at JHU. The issue was quietly slipped under the rug, but I knew it wasn't over.. I hadn't gotten the acceptance or the supportive response I needed. Everything was fine on the surface, but on the inside I was fermenting with troubled thoughts. My parents consoled themselves by telling themselves that I would go to Hopkins and become a 'dignified' research scientist. I consoled myself by telling myself that I would go to Hopkins and explore academia and begin a new life, unencumbered by their oppressive influence.College: During freshman year, I remained largely closeted again, though this time with much more obvious tell-tale signs: I attempted to take up Bharatanatyam again, an altercation I had with someone (a guy I had a crush on) in our college desi singing group resulted in me to quitting the group, I went to Eisenhower Library and checked out all their books on queer theory and LGBT themed films. I also discovered the college gsa (DSAGA), and secretly started profiling their members (I was still too shy to come out and attend their meetings outright). I discovered craigslist. I started taking risks, and went to a gay youth meeting anonymously (B'More Proud). This is where I first "came out" to the public as the Q in LGBTQ for "queer/questioning" - some of my college buddies from DSAGA were there and recognized me. I grew emboldened. I started discussing gay rights with peers. I sought out conversations on the queer experience with DSAGA members one-on-one (I was still too timid to come out officially). I attended departmental colloquia on queer theory (the only undergrad in a room full of professors and graduate students). Finally, I decided to come out. I told my closest friends in college first (Maggie and Joy), and then I started attending DSAGA meetings and events. I changed my Facebook profile information section to Interested In: Men and Women. By sophomore year, I was largely out of the closet.At a crossroads: While all this was happening, my academic journey was a colossal mess. I had started out with ChemBE, grew disenchanted with it very quickly, and then dabbled with other subjects: Math, Physics, Chemistry, French literature, English literature, Philosophy, Anthropology, and Biophysics. I sat in on various classes. Academically, I was polyamorous. My transcript looked like a directionless mess. I was very confused about what I wanted to do with my life and which domain I wanted to earn an undergraduate degree in. The uncertainty was getting to me, and the clock was ticking. There was too much pressure. I decided to take a leave of absence to go travel and figure out what I want to do in life.India: I initially spent a few months teaching in Ghana, but eventually arrived in India. My parents were shocked by this transformation. I told them I needed "time off" to figure things out. True to form, they went ballistic and sent me spiraling into a private med school. Since I'm reliant on them for funding, and my dreams of becoming an academic had been suspended, I was unable to protest loudly enough. I resigned myself to the mental incarceration of becoming an Indian med student. However, as my self-confidence and resentment with the system grew, I started rejecting the institution and the robotic people within it. I spent most of my time outside of med school. I continued to teach English at a local shelter home, and went on to take up a volunteer position with an ngo called Make a Difference, eventually rising to become the president of the city chapter. I also started dating guys (real Indian guys) for the first time in my life, and was surprisingly open about it. Relationships have their ups and down, and I was thrice lucky and unlucky. I got involved with the lgbt rights movement in India through online groups like QueerCampus and GoodAsYou. I attended Bangalore Pride in November'11 and Mumbai's Queer Azaadi March in January'12, and recently I've started my own little group for gay malayalee men called Queer Keralam: https://www.facebook.com/groups/lgbtkeralamI now live my life as a totally out and proud gay Indian man, and I look forward to getting even more involved in human rights movements - particularly women's rights, lgbt rights, and child rights and education. :)

During my college years, my father died by the time I was 19 after approximately 4 years of battling sickness. Immediately after he passed, my mother began several years of fighting breast cancer and I learned two weeks prior to the beginning of my senior year that she only had six months to live since she had an inoperable brain tumor.The six month estimation turned out to only be two months, and my mother actually died on her birthday in the wee hours of the night. Against my wishes, I had stayed in school and tried to remain focused on obtaining my degree, so I was on campus when this occurred and my aunt who notified me made me agree to wait until the morning to come home.That morning, I quickly notified my professors of what was going on and began driving home, singing along with some music while glancing periodically at the wrapped birthday present in the passenger seat of my car. I tried to pretend that I was going home to present her with her gift and she was going to love it, but I finally broke down halfway home and had to pull over until I could see through the flood of tears covering my face.This was the hardest truth I had to face for multiple reasons:1) I was now orphaned in my 20s (yes, it hurts older people similar to children)2) Although I wasn't a troublemaker, I still realized that if I screwed up by driving drunk, getting someone pregnant or exhibiting some other foolish behavior that got me into trouble, I had no one to "fall back on"3) I realized that my parents would miss every major accomplishment I would complete for the remainder of my life, including (at this point) attaining my degree, getting married, having children, getting licensed and ordained as a minister, becoming a pastor, rising professionally as a software engineer to be the director of technology at my corporation, etc.It was a hard pill to swallow at the time, but it made me stronger because I didn't have the luxury of aimlessly pursuing fun, "sowing my wild oats" further than I had previously done, acting irresponsible or doing other things which would be detrimental to my future. When this reality set in, I became much more serious about my decisions and actions (although I was a respectful person who was pretty focused and mature about my goals beforehand), so while I regret their deaths and I'm still not totally over the sense of loss that occurred decades ago (especially item #3), it definitely empowered me to become the asset to society that I am today. I'm a leader in my family, church, corporation, on boards and in volunteer efforts.

Nagesh came from a very humble background. Actually his real name was Cheyyur Krishna Nagesearan. That is,, a Madhva, again it is a Brahmin speaking Kanarese.He came to Chennai in 1960s. He used to work for a club house in T.Nagar,opposite to the Shiva Vishnu Temple,, a recreation club where people play cards, billiards and so on. He worked there and slept in the verandah in the nights. Somewhat like the “Edhir Neechal” Maadhu characterHe, lyricist Vali, K.Balachander were struggling to make a decent living. Though KB was an employee of the AGs Office . KB started Ragini Recreations, a small amateur drama troupe, who used to practice in the evenings and perform during the week ends. KB named him Nagesh. KB has a Midas touch. He gave the name Rajnikant to Shivaji Rao.Nagesh, though was not a cine actor material, due to his average looks, had an eneromous potential and dedication to acting. He has empathy to the character he was playing and used to turn out to be that character itself. This is psychologically very demanding as the actor forgets his real self and transforms himself to another character. This is like walking on sword's edge. But like the great Chevaliar Sivaji he had the aplomb to do very difficult characters and come back to normal self.He was the first comedian to don the role of a hero and he successfully transfixed the audience in “ NeerKumizhi” . The expression and change in his behaviour after he evesdrops the doctors' talking about his advanced stage of cancer. Only a brilliant actor can do that and he did not over act in a single scene in that film.He proved his mettle in “Sarvar Sundaram” as a hotel employee becoming a popular hero. His acting, when he comes to know that the heroine does not love him, his soliloquy wrenches the hearts of the audience.Nagesh is known for timing. In cine language 'timing' means the appropriate expression and simultaneous dialogue delivery. He was a king in that. His timing was so perfect , it did not look as though he was acting. It looked as though he was living that roleAs said earlier, he had no formal training in acting. He was a self made man. He became a very good dancer by adapting the dancing style of Jerry Lewis. Those days Rock and Role and Twist were popular. But Nagesh's dancing style was self evolved and unique.In Thiruvilayadal, he was a struggling Brahmin not sure of the next meal. But the 37 minutes of inter action with Sivaji sir as God Shiva and Nagesh is something very memorable and unforgettable.In “Kadhalikka Neramillai” he lived the character of a richman's son dreaming to become a great producer armed only with a still camera and most inexperienced girl as his future heroine. His story telling scene to T.S. Baliah has no parallel to this day. The same movie was made in Hindi. Comedian Mehmood acted in Nagesh's role and Om Prakash in father's role. But unfortunately the comedy in Hindi movie fell flat.In later years Kamal Hassan made it a point to give a pivotol role in all his comedy movies. They are, Pancha Tantram, Avvai Shanmugi, Michael Madana Kamarajan, though another 'timing' great Crazy Mohan was involved, Nagesh's timing ruled the roostBut unfortunately he never got any Padma awards. He did not need that kind of popularity. He was sincere in his work and no Tamil cine goer can forget his contribution as a Comedian and Character actor .In 1970 he had come to Trichy to participate in a Star Cricket match. I happened to be in the same hotel where he was staying. I was having my coffee, when I saw him getting out of the car and going to his room. I wanted to get an autograph from him. Collected a piece of paper from the reception, and went straight to his room. He had sprained his leg during the match and his friends were discussing what ointment to apply. I just volunteered and said 'please apply Sloans linement'. Nagesh with a smile asked me if I was a medical student. I said 'no sir, Arts'. Then he took the piece of paper from my hand and wrote “The Proof of pudding is in eating”. Such a simple man was that legend.In the first frame (Enga Veetu Pillai), Nagesh jumbles the words. In medical terms it is called spoonerism, though it is done here for the sake of humour, it is actually a medical condition. In “Kadhalikka Neramillai" Baliah speaks like this.A new addition to the answer made on 22/4/20