The word ‘commitment’ in the context of sexuality may conjure up images of a lifelong partnership, a ceremony of sorts, perhaps a wedding ring. But commitment is way more than that. To commit implies giving one’s best. Be it to another person, a relationship, an identity, a cause, a practice, or an affiliation.
It sounds like a serious act – commitment – with a sort of finality about it. As if once the path is chosen, it can lead in only one direction. But paths, as we know, can loop back, spiral, zigzag, curve, twist and turn, or simply meander. They can be smooth, stony, rough or paved. There is also the untrodden path – the path not many take. Is commitment liberation, a limitation, a continuing journey of self-discovery, or something else entirely?
For Anjani Chadha and Vanshika Gupta, several years ago, commitment and community were inseparable. But reality bites. Fallouts, disagreements, and online call-outs within feminist and queer spaces brought them to understand that “the question is not simply whether to stay or leave, but how to remain in relation while something is difficult, unresolved, or broken.” Remaining in relation through the tough times is the recurring motif in Suraj Sur’s personal account too. Suraj writes about the emotional labour of commitment, its endurance and its evolution. In case you think it’s about martyrdom, it’s not.
Krishnapriya K has a different take. Her musings about commitment and the way it is perceived by her peer Gen Z-ers lead her to engage with ideas of investment, calculated risk, and deliberation. In today’s age of loneliness, vulnerability is key to commitment for Krishnapriya. Commitment lies in the body for Amrita Tripathi. Possessing a body and sexuality viewed as undesirable, Amrita eventually found love. Of course, old fears of rejection, of the partner’s possible repulsion towards the body returned. But they found acceptance. The body found its home.
Now, for a change in tone and mood.
Taarina Therese Chandiramani writes a wickedly funny and deeply insightful piece on the terms and conditions to keep in mind before falling in love (with her). Being unable to correctly interpret social cues, Taarina decides to attempt putting together an instruction manual (of sorts) for prospective partners.
Anant reviews Homo and Juliet: Queer & Lesbian Love Stories, Shruti Chakravarty’s new book of eight stories celebrating queer love in the lives of queer women, trans folx, and non-binary persons. Anant recommends Homo and Juliet for documenting rich, and diverse ways of living, resisting, imagining, and creating
In Hindi, Imran Khan argues that commitment goes beyond legal or social recognition such as that offered by marriage. Trust, respect, responsibility and emotional support are deeper foundations of commitment than simply marriage.
And so, we return to our original question. Is commitment liberation, a limitation, a continuing journey of self-discovery, or something else entirely?
Last month we had said that paths can go in a particular direction, and they can also loop back, spiral, zigzag, curve, twist and turn, or simply meander. That’s exactly what this month’s offerings do. Let’s begin.
How does commitment show up? Shruti Chakravarty (author of Homo and Juliet which we reviewed last month) writes with passion about how commitment is intentional and expansive – it does not have to be marked by monogamy, longevity, or social approval. As Shruti aptly puts it, “In marriage it is prescribed. In queerness it is described.” Similarly, in a fascinating interview with Shikha Aleya, Pragati Singh explains that sexual intimacy, romantic intimacy, emotional intimacy, cohabitation, legal partnership and child rearing are separate functional components of relationships, and that commitment shows up in action.
Engaging with the topic of commitment involves asking difficult questions. Looking back and looking ahead at commitment in action, Rituparna Borah asks: Does commitment always mean staying? What happens when showing up becomes one-sided? Can leaving someone also be a commitment to oneself? For Rituparna, commitment is the conscious practice of choosing. Amrita Sen thought she knew what commitment means, but learning about sexless marriages in Japan shook up her assumptions about commitment and sexual intimacy. Asking what makes commitment meaningful rather than just visible, Amrita unravels commitment, marriage, sexual fidelity and emotional intimacy.
An incident with a misogynistic scooty mechanic pushed Gurveen Khanuja to think about gender roles and expectations. Questions about sexuality and values that she was taught followed. Gurveen is trying now to figure out how much of these values is what she truly believes in herself. Saurabh Suman wanders into more conceptual territory. Saurabh posits, “Commitment is inherently non-consensual.” Breaking down this provocative statement, he questions consent and commitment and how well (or not) they fit together.
The fit of consent with commitment takes us seamlessly to the territory of (non)monogamy and swinging. Anugya Srivastava offers us a review of the film The Invite that she found brutally funny and honest. For Anugya, the film raises hard but non-judgemental questions about what real intimacy and commitment mean.
Though Sonia Kashyap’s article is unrelated to the theme of commitment, we are including it because it is about the need for more signs in Indian Sign Language for the Deaf queer community to be able to better communicate with ease.
Back to commitment. In Hindi we bring you two translations. One is of Suraj Sur’s personal account of the evolving nature of commitment and of remaining in relation through tough times. The second is of Anjani Chadha and Vanshika Gupta’s article on community, belonging and ways of staying together; in short, on how commitment can be sustained.
Go gently. Tread your own path.
Cover image by Jens Lelie on Unsplash
