A rainbow flag on a Lucknow balcony

I bought the flag at my first Pride march, three years ago, and it stayed folded in my cupboard ever since. Every June I would take it out, look at it, and put it back.

This year, on the first of June, I hung it on my balcony railing before I could change my mind. Our building is full of retired government officers and aunties who meet on the stairs every evening to discuss everyone else's business.

The first day, people stared. The second day, the watchman asked if it was for a cricket match. On the third day, the eight-year-old from the second floor knocked on my door and asked if she could draw it for her school project on colours.

By the end of the week, the stares had stopped. One of the aunties told my mother on the phone that my balcony was "very cheerful now". My mother, who has come a long way, said, "Yes. That's the point."

The flag is still there. It is fading a little in the sun. I think I will buy a new one next June, and hang it on the first day again.