I visited Stonewall Inn in July '81,
A month late, and many years too.
But for me it was a pilgrimage
Alongside a beer that took a dollar
From the little money i owned
In those so difficult student days.
No candles or incense or plaques,
A few photos on the wall, as i recall,
In retro style, as if decades away
Those great riots, not twelve years.
So much had happened in USA
To let gay people greet in peace.
Weekday afternoon, a few patrons,
Like me today, so much, very older!
Chatting with one another in slow
Absorbed tones, no urge to turn
To see the boy whose heart churned
To meet gods in gaydom's sanctum.
How long can a can of beer last?
Aghast at the ordinariness around,
The missing idols, uncaring space,
I rose from stool at the idle altar
And left. It was the dawn of AIDS,
Gods were starting to stay at home.
Here the sun flayed merciless in day,
Nights were dark, or moon and stars
Shone from far with dreams than hope.
True gods, goddesses, brave, kind, bold,
Walked, spoke, wrote, fought, and sued,
Till a loving rainbow rose in India too.
Sanjib Basu 