The most substantial thing I as an artist can ask is for the audience is to relate to my music or my work. To find relevance in people’s lives and experiences is the most excellent feeling ever.
Through calling this exhibition ‘Who’s the freak’, Ahuja is placing their audience in front of the final exasperated WTF question to the cis, the hetero and the ignorant.
Through all the social commentary the show has tried to touch, it has really only done justice to surface concepts of class and sexuality that the newest working and earning generation of the subcontinent has begun to come to terms with.
The play put together by some of the directing assistants and managers from Drama School Mumbai, is a poignant personal narrative that speaks of resilience and vulnerability equally.
“The reasoning behind most cultures cautioning us not to train our dragons is simple, fear. You keep enough people fearful and guilty, and voila you have a population you can …
The curtains shut, and the door locked; he and I would spend hours kissing, holding, bending and folding into each other making up for the time at college where we only got to exchange glances in class
The stifled music was coming from an arms distance from him. Not from a radio, but from a person.
Not all love stories end in happily ever afters, especially when it comes to Nivi.
What happens when you find your long lost best friend instead, doing something they said they'd never even try?
Their infant daughter, the doctor had said, had XY chromosomes. Male chromosomes.
1969. Queer bodies existed out of mainstream society’s dialogue in the USA. The modern Gay Liberation Movement had not begun and it’s not hard to imagine a time where Homosexuality was illegal.
Pride began that night, and its vanguard was firebrand trans woman of colour, Marsha P. Johnson.
For years we have created all sort of genres with hetero-cis plotlines, perhaps Love, Simon proves to be the gateway to mainstreaming the same for queer narratives.
From the corner of her lazy eye she caught sight of a pile of cucumbers stacked away among raw tubers of all shapes. The perfect summer vegetable. Or fruit?
While most cis-straight folk in our country are probably not referring to tone deaf dissertations to raise their kids, Indian parents have always seemed to follow a subconscious code to reinforce gender and cis-heterosexual contexts.
After 800 years of ignoring who I really was, watching everyone in my clan get paired up with their significant other, and somehow, not fitting in no matter how much I tried was like living queer puberty on loop for centuries.
I remember watching the L word in the early years of college when I didn’t move with the feminist agency I do now. As a younger more impressionable queer woman, the highbrow posh characters of the show sunk their teeth in fast and I was hooked. But something seemed off.