My idiotic heart that clings to every false hope led me into believing that this change of place would mark a new beginning of acceptance, kindness and warmth. Little did I know that humanities can only teach such notions but cannot force you into practising it.
Living a bisexual life is to live in the shadows. To exist in the grey. You belong in the straight world, yet you don’t. You belong in the queer world, yet you don’t. Because our desires are both normative and deviant, we’re suspects everywhere.
The old year
may die – a dream
with the blistering sun
the blue-sea left me deep
I decided to get it all together, experiment and feel accepted by my own body in the form of Self Portraits.
I instantly had an impulse to pull her close to me and kiss her on her the curve of her neck. I fought that urge and decided to walk out and light the cigarette for her instead, she always had trouble with matchsticks. She breathed in the smoke, made a cloud that enveloped her face, I noticed my mouth was open in a rather odd fashion and immediately stiffened as she passed me the cigarette.
I grew up with an all-consuming love for Bollywood movies. They supplied the canvas for my visions and the soundtrack to my life’s cadences. To go to the theatre to watch a movie was to touch magic. And nowhere was that magic more apparent than in the quintessential Bollywood romance.
The way you were there with Johnny, sometimes loudly, sometimes silently was a lesson to me. The way you taught Johnny to be responsible towards his family was like seeing an imprisoned bud confined by emotionless rituals getting bloomed in an impeccable sunny morning.
Even before I learned how vast the LGBTQI+ spectrum was, I don’t think I was biased against someone because of their identity. However, due to the lack of conversation on the topic, I’m sure I’ve had my fair share of insensitive moments. I’m sure a lot of us have.
However, the biggest fallacy of the entire piece lies with the basic thesis; that Trans and queer rights differ. The classification of queer rights as ‘gay rights’ is erasure in itself, as it boils it down to the oversimplified assumption that human sexuality exists within the gay-straight binary.
I was 14 years old the first time I came out. I was scared and dreading the fact that my then partner’s parents were going to ‘out’ me to my father. I came home prepared to end my life and wrote a letter to my father explaining how I had kissed a girl and her parents had made me feel fear for feeling what I felt!
To make my coming out easier, I told everyone I discovered I was gay in a moment of epiphany in my final year of college. I had had a real girlfriend until my second year. The story I put out was that we broke up because of relationship problems.
You wonder about the crush that you had on that boy when you were thirteen years old. Did you actually have feelings for him or did you like him because you had to? What about all those celebrities you were attracted to? Did you just pretend to like them because everyone else did? You wonder if you can even have a crush anymore.
Due to the lack of widespread legitimate recognition in the area of the LGBT+ Community, oftentimes the members of the same are resolutely ignored and, in most cases, alienated. They are considered no longer a ratified member of the society and their uniqueness is interpreted in the likes of a contagious virus.
If you could see the world through my eyes
But then, you can't
And I don't expect you to.
I've always seen colors
In places I wasn't supposed to.
All I did
Was press me
Closer to himself
And hold on
To his thick long hair
Not ready deep down
I am essentially one of those borderline pessimistic realists, who would never get their hopes up in the fear of having their hearts broken. I remember telling myself on the night before the day that I will not let the verdict affect me, that no matter what I will not be disappointed and that I will not let myself feel defeated.
I open the app, and receive the texts from this guy who obviously was on the other side of the LoC, in what is called Pakistan Occupied Kashmir in India, and Aazad (Liberated) Kashmir on his side. I answered that I was on the Indian side, in Sopore.
As our friendship developed, we felt transported to our own magical world; where, in being our true selves, there was no denying the powerful energy connecting us to and the love we had for each other.
Vincent and I met in person in the first week after I had moved to Paris. We met twice in that week and my heart was already lost to him.