To be honest, I’m a sucker for love songs. And by sucker, I mean SAP. If you get me at the right moment with a good love song, I will get teary-eyed on you, no lie. But being queer sort of complicates the whole love song arena. Every popular love song is hetero-oriented, and somehow stereotypically “homo” songs are never really love songs.
I never realized I had fallen for you. It was only when you told me that you were falling for someone else that I felt my heart beginning to crumble. I know you kept telling me not to expect anything; that you couldn’t offer me what I wanted. But how could you have known that you were made up of those very things I expected in the person I thought I could fall for?
The city that never sleeps. The city that always eats. My kinda town… Of course, it helped that its brimming to the top with very many of the gorgeous ladies on Gaysi. Last month I darted down to India to replenish my body’s supply of Vitamin D and a quick jaunt to Mumbai seemed in order.
But there are moments, when you know in your heart, that you did what you could – nothing, no force, could have made you give any less or any more. That is the point in your own evolution and inner growth, when you know that you have peaked, at least for the time being, until life prods you towards the next level.
The train towards HUDA City Centre was rolling into the platform, and I hurried to reach the last coach, which I was usually found to be less crowded than the others. I made it comfortably, and waited for the doors to open. At this time there were fewer people boarding the train, and I hoped to have a comfortable ride for a change. The doors started opening, and that is when I first saw him.
It was a big fat Tamil brahmin wedding. You can imagine the setting. From Kancheevaram clad Mamis to Silk Dhoti Mamas, from adorable little girls dressed in their Pattu Paavaadais (silk skirts) to young ladies just graduated to Sarees, the wedding hall was overflowing with guests. The hall, beautifully decorated with jasmine, roses, lotus, and Javvanthi flowers, looked colorful, heavenly and royal. Traditional Naadhaswaram and Melam instruments added to the festivity. The priest who was seated in the center of the stage was totally in control of the event.
“A Person may step into the past for a short time, to find something of herself she left behind or to understand the persistent ache of an old wound. Many times such a journey brings its own healing. At worst, she may simply put it behind her and go on”. – Namet, “When Women Were Warriors: Book I"
am more than just a physical body
am more than mere labels
am a human just like you
am what I am
am who I am
Life’s strongest quality is that it keeps moving on whether we want it or not, and every day changes into night and weeks and months. I moved on and met new people. I had the opportunity to come across the ‘gay community’ for the first time in my life and that too by chance!
I may be a somewhat bitter person at times, but if there is one thing I am an optimist about, it is trust. I believe that if someone holds such a place in our lives that we have entrusted them with our friendship, there is a mutual respect born that builds a foundation for trust and loyalty.
Appearance has become such a big part of queer existence and identity for women. Fitting certain check marks on the list of common attire and appearance often helps queer women find each other in the sea of unavailable heterosexuals. The main aspect of appearance I want to talk about is gaysi women’s hair, because I love hair and its complexities fascinate me.
As emphasis is frequently placed on father and mother, marriage and family it seemed like the whole universe centered around the love between a man and a woman. This was particularly pertinent as this was a stage where she prepared to enter puberty and ‘boys’ and ‘love’ were soon going to be an important part of her life.
While I tried my hardest to be out and proud during that relationship with a man, I have now realized just how much I was benefiting from the heterosexual privilege. Even though my politics and identity were queer, many straight people treated me with the privileges of a fellow straight person since they saw that I was dating a man.
Six months ago my parents came to the US to visit my sister. She lives few miles away from me. My parents were ready to visit me too as long as "that person" (my BF) was not present when they visit and I agreed not to talk about him. I was outraged. I said enough is enough, this is not fair, my partner is part of my family and I can't accept my parent's conditions. They didn't budge. For most of their 6 month visit we didn't see each other or talk. They were fine with that.
It is Wedding season on Gaysi! (Miss Zero's "Gaysi Wedding Dreams" & "My Dream : Super Lesbian Wedding"). Apparently this is also the season of TamBrahms! (Shri's "Aththai" & Rashmi's "Am I a Queer TamBrahm?").
“I remember how being young and black and gay and lonely felt. A lot of it was fine, feeling I had the truth and the light and the key, but a lot of it was purely hell.”
This quote made me giggle a little, even though I don’t think it was supposed to be funny, just because I can understand the sentiment - from my own perspective, at least.
So when I realised my Queerness was not going anywhere, I was shocked, ashamed and confused. It was intense because I was also ashamed of being a TamBram. ... it took me a whole decade to understand that being Queer and being TamBram can mutually exist.
It's been over a month since I've returned to London, from my trip to India. I've been wanting to write about what happened there with my parents, but haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I think I'm finally ready.
I questioned Curly about her implicit trust in me. Apparently Curly trusted me oodles coz I was from the Gaysi Family. That right folks, people in this family can be trusted. Tell us all your secrets.
My younger brother was out to a holiday party, and my parents asked me to come sit with them. I was assuming they wanted to watch an old Malayalam movie with me or something, but in retrospect that would have been the less torturous option. Instead, my parents wanted to discuss my “lesbian tendencies”. I’m beginning to think my dad should copyright the phrase “lesbian tendencies” for usage by future homophobes/jerks.