An open letter to Professor Siras, the man who inspired Hansal Mehta's 'Aligarh'

Dear Professor,

If we had met when you were still alive, I might have passed you by.

Devoid of the halo of cinematic light and before your tragic story made national headlines, you were an ordinary man, somewhat introverted, given to long silences and gentle words — and it would have been easy to have overlooked your existence: that of an impassioned academic, deeply committed to the world of ideas and learning, who carried a graveyard in his heart.

It was only after the brutal assault on your dignity and fundamental right to privacy that your story became one more blot in India's shameful history of homophobia and regression. It was only when the shocking news of how a distinguished and learned professor of linguistics at the Aligarh Muslim University was subjected to severe humiliation and injustice, when his home was broken into and his privacy violated, that the world woke up to your story. It was then that we all had begun to follow your personal travails — your sacking by the AMU and your subsequent fight to be reinstated.

How during this traumatic period, you had refused to return hate for hate and pettiness for pettiness, saying instead: "I spent two decades here. I love my University. I have always loved it and will continue to do so no matter what. But, I wonder if they have stopped loving me because I am gay?"

It was only when a week after you had won your case in the Allahabad High Court and got your professorial job and accommodation back and you were found dead at home under mysterious circumstances, that your story became one of national interest.

Frankly Professor, I do not know whether you killed yourself or were murdered. As far as I'm concerned, that is a matter of detail. After all, they had already killed you the day students barged into your home and filmed you having consensual sex with your partner. They killed you again when the University, which you so loved, suspended you without so much as an inquiry and you lost not only your career but your home as well. From what I've read about you, you never wanted to flaunt your homosexuality or make an issue of it.

Born into a homophonic country, you had lived your life a square peg in a round hole, content in your world of learning and books, finding love where you could — quietly and without drama. What a monstrous tragedy that a man like you had to face such a vulgar circus of accusations and venom on such a wide platform.

Today, we empathise and applaud your life. You have become an icon for the fight for gay rights and the revoking of the grievous Article 377, which was used to discriminate against people like you.

But we will never know the loneliness and pain you died in.

And we will never make up for the injustice heaped on you.

And of course, you will never be there to counter those who rant against homosexuality on the grounds that 'it goes against the very basis of human existence — the reproduction of the species.'

Because if you had been around, surely you with your brilliance and erudition would have countered that specious argument, citing the other grave threat to 'the very basis of human existence' and 'the reproduction of the species' — called celibacy! (Wish all those against homosexuality on religious grounds like the priests, bishops, sadhvis and maulanas got their heads around that one!)

Fare thee well and salutations professor, I will certainly watch Aligarh and weep for the bright spark that was snuffed out by a cruel world.

And I am sure you will be sending down your strength for the revoking of Article 377.

With every good wish, etc.

malavikasmumbai@gmail.com, @msangghvi
(The columnist believes in the art of writing letters)