I wonder if I will ever wear beautiful dress or suit,
I wonder if my family will ever be there,
I wonder if their eyes would be filled with love or disappointment,
I wonder, if I ever say 'I do' will anyone be there?
Five years of denial. Five years of confusion. Five years of analysing my feelings and myself to death.
I could hear my heart was pounding. My knees felt a bit weak. Tongue was parched and dry. Still, I was happy.
We’ve all experienced it. Irrespective of our orientation, whether Straight, bi, gay or queer. It hurts every time.
Aabha is really tensed to ring the bell at her own home. She has been standing in front of her door from past half an hour, mustering courage to face whatever happens, when that door is opened.
My baby boy is 3! It seems like yesterday, when we brought him home from the hospital.
the politics of fucking, understandably –
Most women are very comfortable with transsexual women and transsexual semantics - which is pretty much consistent with feminist perspectives and studies on behaviour.
I soon found out my "girlish" friend was gay. I was cool with it. It explained what was wrong with him. Little did I know how “wrong” I was.
I woke up this morning, with my Twitter, Facebook and assorted other social networks informing me that Justice Katju had emitted another brainfart.
This was my way of finding out what I am. Trust me, no one came to help me!
I really like you and miss you. Randomly. For no reason at all.
But this you will never hear.
I want to kiss your scars till they close,
fold under your impossibly warm skin that turns freezing cold
as soon as the first hit of Delhi winter creeps under my quilt.
For all the love in my heart for him, I couldn't help but lift my guise.
About two years and four months into a new city, I have had a home in every person I have met.
Thousand AKSHAYs just cut their wrists
Fearing what their parents would say,
A hundred JAIs inhaled gas from a burning stove
Humiliated by those ‘Oh-So-Dear’ relatives,
But, don’t you worry!
They were just a part of that “miniscule minority”.
I wrote this at a time when I could only turn to the internet while I was coming to terms with my sexuality.
Now she was 34, married and dying. She had gone through a large part of her life living under the facade that was beginning to give way.
Hey there! I’m calling out to you
Dark skinned and lean and a slight beard too.
Like many other Indians, I have been following your visit to the US with keen interest.