Freakshow

So here we are, the world poised at dawn of a new era, with homophobia vanishing like wisps of incense at an open temple.

But not for us. We're caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Our choices are to be unhappy and live in hiding, or slave away in some hideously demeaning job abroad, and be unhappy for an altogether different reason.

Being a hairdresser and strutting around Colombo like a parakeet in heat has crossed my mind. But that will make me more outcast than I already am. My parents will have a fit, and probably throw in a heart attack for good measure.

A friend of mine wants to take up law just for the heck of it, thinking he could battle ignorance with the righteous hand of legislation. What righteous hand of legislation he's got in his mind I've yet to discover. Battling for rights in this country is like asking a killer whale if you could have your fish back.

There's the other way of course. Hope on the next plane to Canada and refuse to leave when I get there. I get it, that sounds sane. But what happens if they don't buy my story and decide to deport me instead? Chances of happiness will vanish like ink in a river.

So here we must remain and eat our meager dish of porridge, and dare not ask for more. What s freakshow we make.