'Tired of Homophobia, Slurs': What Happened When I Went to Watch 'Badhaai Do'

In our excitement to watch a romantic comedy, we forgot how queer people face everyday homophobia.

In our excitement to watch 'Badhaai Do', a romantic comedy, we forgot how queer people face everyday homophobia.

(Photo: Chetan Bhakuni/TheQuint)

The first queer film my partner and I watched in the cinema hall was in March 2020, more than four years after we started seeing each other – we were still in the closet at the time.

Even before we entered the hall with tickets to Ayushmann Khurrana-starrer Shubh Mangal Zyada Savdhan, I could tell that this would be an experience different from all the films we had watched earlier.

It was also the first time that I realised that every time I step into the theatre to watch a queer-themed film, I would ask myself the following questions:

“Are the audience going to judge me based on what’s shown in the movie?”

“Do they think I’m here to watch it because I am queer?”

“Am I compromising my identity?”

And most importantly – “Am I going to get into trouble inside the movie hall?”

These are things that a cisgender heterosexual person never has to worry or think about while doing something as simple as watching a relatable movie in a film hall. My partner and I were anxious while entering the hall –we were worried about our ‘queer’ identity becoming a topic of discussion.

But fortunately, we walked out of the film without any confrontation with homophobia.

The Many Homophobic Comments

Two years and a pandemic later, we were no longer in the closet. We could not contain the excitement of finally stepping into the film hall again to watch another queer-themed romantic comedy – Rajkumar Rao and Bhumi Pednekar-starrer Badhaai Do.

Only this time, in our excitement, we forgot how queer people face everyday homophobia. Our experience in the movie theatre and the response our social media post got was a reminder that this was the norm, and the ‘homophobia-free’ experience the first time around was simply an exception to the rule.

I can still hear echoes of the various comments being passed throughout the movie:

“Arre, mai toh galat movie dekhne aa gayi.” (Have we come to watch the ‘wrong’ movie)

“Pehle kyu nahi bataya tune Sakshi, yeh sab hoga isme.” (Why didn’t you tell me that ‘all this’ would happen in this film?)

”Tujhe bade maze aa rahe hain, kahi tu bhi is category mein hai kya?” (You are enjoying this, do you also belong to this category?)

A Stand Against Homophobia

Every time a cute scene was shown on screen between Pednekar and Chum Darang, a bunch of people – including men and women – relentlessly kept passing homophobic, perverted comments.

I was angry, and I was hurt. But my partner held my hand so that we didn't attract ‘trouble.’ When Rajkumar Rao’s coming-out monologue came on the screen, I was moved to tears.

I clapped, I hooted. Why should I, or any queer person for that matter, resist being who we truly are?

A pin-drop silence in the hall, followed by a homophobic person yelling – “Ye pakka gay hoga.” (He is definitely gay)

That was it. I stood up and yelled:

“Yes, I am gay. I have come to watch a film with my partner. I have been with him for four years and our families know. Let me know if you have a problem.”

After a few seconds of silence, the theatre exploded with applause again.

I Took a Stand, But Not Many Can

I wrote about the incident on social media because the homophobia and misogyny in the auditorium disgusted me. If the world sees me as a “rebel against nature,” I might as well be one.

My conscience kept telling me that I would be letting the community down if I did not take a stand. I wanted to stand up for myself, and also for many of those who are in the closet (for various reasons) and do not have the privilege to speak out.

A boy reached out to me stating that watching Badhaai Do in the hall, and hearing constant slurs made him call his mother during the interval.

“I called her and told her that this is one of the good LGBTQIA+ movies, and that she should also watch it. I wanted to call her from the theatre, in the presence of people who have internalised homophobia so much. But I wanted to dial my mother, so that they could hear. They were silent for the rest of the movie,” the boy told me.

Another person narrated their experience wherein a cis-het couple sniggered after the movie ended. “How did you like it? You loved it, didn’t you,” one of them asked in a sarcastic tone.

A lesbian woman reached out saying she does not watch queer-themed movies in the cinema hall as she is afraid of the effect the audience reaction will have on her mental health.

A non-binary trans person spoke about how they were “triggered multiple times and felt very uncomfortable watching people giggling laughing around me in the theatre“ while watching Chandiagrh Kare Aaashiqui.

Give Us a Safe Space to Watch Films

For a cis-het person, it is just a movie. Something they will laugh about and move on. But for queer people, movies that tell their stories are means of representation.

For many, it may be ‘discomforting’ to watch a queer movie, but for many others, it is the way of life. It is only through this ‘discomfort’ that society will unlearn all the heteronormativity.

All we ask is for a safe space to watch films that represent us. No one, except women, minority groups, and queer folks, thinks about ‘safety’ while watching a film – something that is meant to be a recreational activity.

To all the cis-het persons out there, at the risk of sounding cliché, the next time you feel an urge to pass a homophobic comment in a movie theatre or in any public space, it could be your friend, who is in the closet, sitting next to you.

Be kind. All we want is to watch a movie – in peace.

(Priyanjul Johari (he/him) is a software engineer at UBS. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)