Each time a gay sees a picture of a naked man and is about to get an arousal, he is given an electric shock. Doctors from renowned institutions across the country are practising aversion therapy in the belief that homosexuality is a disease. Aman Khanna reports

anand naorem

Instead of directing homosexuals to seek help from gay support groups they prefer to pursue conversion therapy

Eighteen is no age to be in the grip of neurosis. That’s not the time when you are drowned in the waves of depression. But when boys of his age were chasing girls with a spring in their walk, reading romantic poetry and sweating it out on cricket fields, Mahesh would sit in a dark corner at home and let an anxiety engulf him. He would think about the hostel mate he was deeply attracted to. Mahesh knew he was unlike the other boys. But he could not put his finger on the difference.

When the depression became intense and Mahesh felt he was losing it, he decided to “address the issue”. He approached his family doctor. The physician said he didn’t know what was causing the depression and referred Mahesh to a sexologist. A famous practitioner in Mumbai, the sexologist told Mahesh he was suffering from a “disease” called homosexuality, but there was no cause to worry — the “disease” could be cured. He added he had cured many lesbians of the same disorder. The bottom line was clear: Mahesh was sick and he needed immediate treatment.

The much-promised treatment began, with the sexologist asking Mahesh to come back to him with at least 10 nude pictures of men in different poses he found attractive. “He said he would flash those pictures and at the time of arousal, he would administer shocks or impulses on my body,” Mahesh recounts, “As that was happening, he would flash pictures of naked women. And then, no impulses.”

Over a period of time, the doctor said, Mahesh’s mind would get averse to homosexual thoughts. The doctor said the treatment would take a long time. At the very least, four to five visits. The sexologist didn’t give a name to the treatment, but he promised complete cure. In clinical jargon it is called aversion therapy. Or as laymen refer to it — shock therapy. Mahesh came out of the clinic certain he did not want to take any treatment for his problem. He called up his family physician and said, “I think I will be able to handle it on my own.” He never went back to the sexologist.

Mahesh managed to escape without any shock, but there are hundreds, maybe thousands, who do go ahead with the therapy prescribed to Mahesh. Till this day, a primitive and obsolete treatment like shock therapy is being used on homosexuals across the country “to turn them into normal heterosexuals”.
Instead of directing homosexuals to seek help from gay support groups, sensitive to the feelings of homosexuals many doctors prefer to pursue a line of conversion therapy. That is, to convert them into heterosexuals. Most often, the doctors’ argument is — “What can I do if some people approach me for treatment? Do I turn them away?”

But you scratch the surface a bit and the real reason for continuance of such therapy emerges — it is the bias, prejudice and ignorance that still grips the majority of the medical fraternity in this country. Many psychiatrists and psychologists approached by this reporter perceived homosexuality as a “deviation”, a “variation”, a “disorder”. They see it as a deep psychological problem that can be cured by some old-fashioned techniques and methods. And aversion therapy, or shock therapy, just happens to be one of the magus’ tricks.

Damned Right: a recreated session of aversion therapy using models photo s. radhakrishna

Electrodes looking like “a headphone” were put on his head, and then he was senseless. Almost paralysed by the 110 volts

The electrical current passes through the bodies like hundreds of ants biting together, but it is the anxiety of anticipating a shock that is a thousand times more painful. They are made to feel guilty for the way they are

Arvind Narrain and Vinay Chandran have been fighting for gay rights in Bangalore. Last year, they interviewed numerous counsellors, psychiatrists and psychologists in India’s Silicon Valley to find out why they are still using aversion therapy to change people’s sexuality. In one of the interviews, a behavioural therapist reasoned: “Shock therapy causes as much tissue damage as anal sex. So, why fuss?”

Lata Hemchand, a clinical psychologist based in Bangalore, was practising aversion therapy till four years ago, but now advises homosexuals to approach support groups which can really help them in overcoming the problems. She admits most medical practitioners still see homosexuality as a deviation that “has to be set right”.

Hemchand might have turned over a new leaf, but most doctors still see aversion therapy as a normal treatment — even in the best of neurological and psychological centres like National Institute of Mental Health and Neuro Sciences (nimhans) in Bangalore. A clinical psychologist at nimhans confessed, on the condition of anonymity, that aversion therapy was used extensively in the hospital till four years ago. But, even today, it is administered sometimes as a part of the larger treatment of “orgasmic reconditioning” —
a therapy which requires the homosexual to think of the opposite sex just at the time of ejaculation.

There is more on offer at nimhans. MP Sharma, another clinical psychologist at the famous institute, told Narrain and Chandran that treatments include “psycho-education, cognitive restructuring, orgasmic reconditioning” and, of course, “aversion relief wherein we give them a mild electrical shock when they are watching homosexual imagery”.

The line of treatment is based on Pavlov’s work on conditioning. Russian experimental psychologist Ivan Pavlov rang a bell every time to tell his dog its mealtime. After some time, the dog began salivating just at the sound of the bell. The theory concluded that certain associations produce positive or negative reactions in one’s body. The same theory was first used for alcoholics and then extended to homosexuals.

The intention is to relate homosexuality with guilt and punishment. Two electrodes on Velcro patches are attached to the upper arm or the wrist of a homosexual. Sometimes it is attached on the thigh, too. On the other end is a small vanity box-sized transformer, which clearly spells out in large font size ‘Aversion Therapy Equipment’.

RAKESH kumar, 27 Travel agent, Mumbai

I was in school then, probably in Class XII. I was confused about myself; I liked both men and women, but mainly men. And it used to haunt me. There were times I used to get terribly depressed. I had no option but to meet a psychiatrist. He is a famous practitioner in a reputed hospital in Navi Mumbai. He said, “You are going through a phase. It is an addiction, an abnormal behaviour.” The first day, he asked me to get a hiv test done. Then, he gave me injections. I don’t know what it was, but it would take care of my depression, it would cheer me for a while. Wherever he was, I would call and go over for an injection. He also put me on Prozac. Once, he called an older woman to his clinic in the night. She must have been 25 or 30, probably a sex-worker. The doctor asked me to caress her and imagine that I was attracted to her. He wanted to prove to me that I will get a hard on. After a while, I told him it’s just not possible. But I was naïve; I carried on the therapy. I was using my parents’ money to buy the medicines. Obviously, over time, they found the bills and approached the doctor. When he called me up, I told him not to disclose anything of my sexuality. He still did. I never went back to him after that.

In the first session the doctor measures the homosexual’s threshold of pain. The clinical psychologist jacks up the voltage step by step to find out how the homosexual feels. Does it hurt at all, or is the pain “mildly unpleasant” or painful? Once the individual says it is painful, the voltage is lowered by a few degrees. The pain threshold has been calculated. All shocks would be of this voltage. Just before leaving the homosexual is asked to bring nude pictures of men he finds attractive.

From the next session on, those nude photos are projected on a wall. Pictures of naked men interspersed with naked women. Every time a gay sees a picture of a naked man, and is just about to get an arousal, he is given a shock. And as pictures of naked women come on, the electrical wires are switched dead. The course is reversed for a lesbian.

The treatment usually continues for two to three months. About 15 shocks of 30 volts a session, one hour a day, two sessions a week. The ‘patient’ needs at least 20 sessions, each costing between Rs 200 and 500.

The electrical current passes through the bodies like hundreds of ants biting together, but it is the anxiety of anticipating a shock that is a thousand times more painful. “The harm is in the innocuousness of the whole thing,” says Narrain. Men and women are being made to feel guilty for the way they are.

Till a few years ago, the archaic therapy was being tried on cross-dressers too. They were made to wear “their sex’s clothes” and then given a shock. It was given up when success was found scarce.

Aversion therapy, though, is not the only trick up doctors’ sleeves; there are other therapies to do exactly the same. Male hormones are being injected into so-called effete men. In rural areas, health workers have come across quacks prescribing bizarre concoctions in green bottles and colourful pills to those not in touch with their masculine side.

Talking to Narrain and Chandran for their study, a famous sexologist in Bangalore, Vinod Chebbi, criticised aversion therapy because “it took pleasure away” from sex. But, in the same breath, boasted of his cure to homosexuality — replacement therapy. “I show a series of pictures of heterosexual activity. I teach them how to enhance pleasure by the use of lubricant,” he explained, “I give him an idea of what is the vagina and how one can masturbate with lubricant so that the organ slides into the vagina.”

Shockingly, at times, doctors even see electro-convulsive therapy (ect) — the shock therapy one usually sees in films — as an option. Aniruddha Bose was one of those who received ect. Twice.

Back in 1995, Bose was pursuing chemical engineering from Jadavpur University in Kolkata. He had always been good at studies in school and college, scoring high marks. But even as a young man, he never understood all the jabber about girls. With time, he became aggressive, even violent. His parents consulted a doctor and he, in turn, sent Bose to a private nursing home. They told him “homosexuality was not a good thing”, that “it caused aids”. On one of the visits to the hospital, he was told he would be given shock treatment. Even then he didn’t resist, thinking the doctors were there to help him out. His parents were not present there.
The male nurses held him down on a bed while the doctor placed a wooden block in his mouth. “I think it was to prevent me from biting my own tongue,” Bose says. Electrodes looking like “a headphone” were put on his head, and then he was senseless. Almost paralysed by the 110 volts. The shocks continued for three weeks. Twice a week. Every time, four or five people would come to his house and drag him away. He was put on a medication that still continues.

Sanjay Kumar, 32 Tailor, New Delhi

I was deeply troubled by my sexuality. I didn’t know what homosexuality meant. All I knew was that I was different. I had regular bouts of epression, but I couldn’t share it with my parents. Someone told me I could get treatment at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences. I went there with my friend. The psychiatrist told me, “It is unnatural. You aren’t supposed to be this way. Some day, you will have to get married. You can’t have children if you stay like this. You have to understand, the society doesn’t accept this.” He first recommended shock therapy to me. He said I would be fine after just five or six shocks. But I said ‘no’. I was scared; I had seen people given shocks in films. So he put me on non-prescription drugs. He would pull them out of his drawer. I was supposed to take three doses every day. Each dose had four tablets – two white, one yellow and one brown tablet. He said it would continue for six months. But, even after two months I didn’t feel any change. One day, travelling in a bus, I saw a sticker of the Naz Foundation India. I met a counsellor in their office, heard people discussing homosexuality. I owe a lot to them. I still feel angry at times. That doctor must have treated so many who were confused like me. There must have been so many who didn’t find any help.

And then it happened again in 1997. The same shocks. The doctor told him the therapy was because of his “orientation”. He said, “If you don’t give it up, you will have to be admitted again.” His sister-in-law said the same. Bose was admitted again in the same clinic in 1999 and then in 2002, but he pleaded not to be given shock therapy. His parents are old now, and Bose says he has forgiven them.

There appears no clear way to find the number of homosexuals undergoing aversion therapy each month, each year. Those who have experienced the trauma of receiving shocks are hesitant even to share it with gay and lesbian support groups. In any case, given the figures of gays and lesbians who approach mental health specialists for counselling, it must be large. All of it could stop only if doctors stop seeing homosexuality as a mental disorder.

But doctors argue they cannot be singled out for their prejudices because it is the society that sees homosexuality as an aberration. In fact, it is usually the parents who push their children to get such ‘cure’ of homosexuality. “If only my parents had listened, I wouldn’t have gone through all of this,” says Kiran David in a mellow voice. David was 17 when he suffered a nervous breakdown on realising the man he loved was seeing someone else. His parents admitted him to St John’s Medical College & Hospital in Bangalore. By the age of 18, David became a schizophrenic. He felt people were following him; his phones were being tapped. Today, David is 21 and still has to take anti-depressants four times a day. He can still have an erection, but because of the medicines can never ejaculate.

Till today, his parents have not mentioned the word ‘gay’ in front of him. Ironically, David’s father is a social activist who fights for labour and women’s rights, and his mother is a consultant in St John’s Hospital, the institute where he was admitted.
There are many like David. But the legal system, too, finds itself tied up when faced with an issue of treatment of homosexuality. In 2003, the Naz Foundation, a Delhi-based group working to prevent the spread of hiv/aids, came across a case of a homosexual who was being given non-prescription drugs for months at no end by a psychiatrist in aiims.

A petition with the National Human Rights Commission (nhrc) was rejected without delay. The unofficial reason given was — “Homosexuality is an offence under ipc. Do you want us to take cognisance of something that is an offence?”

Most doctors generally hedge the question — why treat someone when they don’t have a ‘disease’. They quote clinical jargon to
defend their actions. Homosexuality is generally broken into two conditions. If a person is comfortable with his or her sexuality, it is called ego-syntonic homosexuality. And if they are ill at ease, it is called ego-dystonic homosexuality. Doctors claim they have to treat those who are unhappy with their sexuality, even though the American Psychiatrists’ Association had declassified ego-dystonic homosexuality as a disorder in 1988.

None of the psychologists and psychiatrists approached by this reporter was even sure if aversion therapy works. There are no recent studies to support a change in sexuality by shock or any other kind of therapy. Even the anecdotal evidence given in the therapy’s defence is suspect.

A few years ago, Hemchand, the Bangalore-based clinical psychologist, used aversion therapy on a middle-aged man who was under family pressure to tie the knot. He returned with his wife a few months later, claiming riddance of the disorder. “But I knew,” Hemchand says, “He was probably deceiving himself.”

Everybody this reporter spoke to recollected their experiences not with sorrow. Everybody, instead, spoke of it questioningly, wondering what wrong did they do. As a counsellor who realises the futility of such treatment puts it, why should they be punished for living naturally?