hen I was in my second year at Delhi’s Lok Nayak Jai Prakash Narayan Hospital, a lanky boy in a red shirt and fraying jeans came to the dermatology OPD for a consultation. He spoke openly about the globular swellings on his penis that had ruptured, leaving shallow craters. A busy resident asked him to strip and lie down on the examination table. She enquired about his history of contact: “Have you had sexual relations with a girl?” “Are you married?” “Have you visited any sex workers?” “No,” he responded to each question, quickly and confidently. Running out of time and patience, the resident referred him to me. It was only when I changed “girl” to “partner” that I understood the
