What do I mean? Well, I went to a co-ed school. I read books and had people about me who thought that finding out stuff about sex was to be expected and encouraged. So theoretically speaking I’d come across the possibility of same-sex relationships by the time I was, maybe, 12ish. (Okay, that’s cause I used to sneak into the adults section of the library.) It took me till 15ish to realize people around me, grown up or otherwise thought same-sex sex was a hideous awful thing and people so inclined were sick, genetically or otherwise.
Here’s a look at an article published on CNN Go (Asia) stating the 10 Gifts from Mumbai’s LGBT community.
Do I have your undivided attention loyal Gaysi reader? I know that the lady folk have seized this website with their ‘clit active’ material but now it is time for us men to ‘RAISE’ our consciousness (nothing else you Pervert, this ain’t that sorta site!!) and as your self-appointed representative, share the concerns, fears and worries that plague us Gaysi men.
So darling boys, log off Xtube or whatever else your ‘dingle’ dangles to and devour this delightful factual account of my experiences in coming out or at least, attempting to come out and the madness and mayhem that follows in my attempt to find Mr. Right.
As I have been juggling 5 different medications for my epilepsy I have been lifeless, friendless, and loveless. As I have stopped eating I have lost weight and I have been secretly excited about it. Who is this that is excited about being skinny again? I thought I was that fat-positive queer, feminist. Where has she gone?
How do you feel about accessing LGBT content such as Gaysi, AfterEllen/Elton, Queerty etc. at work?
I don't check LGBT content at work because I am worried someone may find
I have read a bit of Sister Toldja’s rad sex column and sex advice but she mostly just compares black women’s sex lives to white women’s, and obviously that racial binary is not all-encompassing.
So, as QC has mentioned before, us desis can get a little hush-hush when it comes to mas-tur-bay-shun. And I can personally attest to this because this lack of open-communication about sex within the desi community has definitely affected my sex life, especially with my experience with a woman. Plus, I didn’t have my first orgasm until I was 19, and maybe that is not shocking but my white friends definitely thought it was!
Freshly laundered white cotton sheets. They weren’t high thread count. They weren’t Egyptian cotton. They were just clean and cool. My naked skin delighted in how soft they felt. It …
There are times when I wish I could just cut off ties and be 'free'. I know that this is impossible because I love them too much. Then I have conversations in my head where I confront them and tell them how mean and hurtful they're being. 'Am I a drug dealer? Am I a prostitute? Am I a bum without a job or a future?', I demand, in these imaginary confrontations. 'Where is the unconditional love that a parent is meant to give their child?', I follow up. All in my head.
Now, I am not known as an affectionate person. Strangers have been warned by others not to attempt hugging me randomly. I kiss family. Sure, I hug friends. But these folks have been around for large chunks of my life and I truly love them. Since hugs are the new handshakes, I engage in some of that hogwash as well. However, I am a cuddler. You and me be canoodling?
Bijli is about a person who passes as "Fayaaz", a man, during the day, and dances as "Bijli" in drag, to Bollywood songs at night.
Fayaaz has fond memories of his deceased parents, but has a bittersweet relationship with his faith, and the Mosque.
I have noticed that straight desi girls and ladies, sometimes the ones who haven’t been through trials, often have weak relationships with their mothers or “just-for-show” relationships with their mothers. These friends often seem jealous of the fact that I am close to my mother. What they do not realize is that it took my mother a long time to come to understand me, her youngest daughter. It was a rickety journey after which she became my lovely little mummy.
While people were always telling me that I should come out only when I am comfortable doing so and which is true of course, I still found myself procrastinating. There were stages in my life when I was ashamed of myself, to the point that I was unable to open up even in a support group. I was just so embarrassed, that I would confine myself to the privacy of my home and sit through evenings and weekends together. Even after I accepted myself , I was still afraid to come out to my family because I feared I would hurt them or just purely that I would rather take the pain on myself than sharing it with anyone else. While it might sound selfless, it was just plain stupid.
The story centers around the family having gathered to mourn the death of the eldest son. However, Frederick fails to attend the funeral and this does not go down well with his younger son, Guilliame (François Négret) who enjoys the plentiful drink but in a charming French way - so I watch it and think, “my god he’s a falling drunk and slimy in some ways but I still don’t dislike him” .
I saw him the first time in a train. He was tiny and timid, very unlike his naughty and loud brothers and sisters. Dressed shabby with a torn t-shirt and torn slacks, a pair of mismatched shoes, all he wanted to do was just get enough place to sit but his siblings would not let him.
They were from the slum, it was fairly obvious with the way they were behaving. These kids seemed unperturbed when the aunties mocked them and asked them to move out of their seats. They had tickets these kids didn’t. The kids pretended to be deaf and continued being seated where they were, a noisy naughty lot of five.
I have had some friends tell me that this queer stuff isn’t so important to them, and with some friends it’s when they don’t tell me anything about queer issues and that’s how I know it isn’t important to them.
Well, in general, some say that one should focus on their own thing because no one will do anyone else’s dirty work for them. I guess that’s a big gulp to gulp for me because I’m a social work student and I take great pride and joy in wanting to help people and help myself.
Sasha (Saša) is a coming-of-queer story. Sasha (Saša Kekez) – the main protagonist – is a gay teenager of Montenegrin-German origin (Mommy: German, Daddy: Montenegrin) who returns from holiday in Montenegro back to Germany only to find that his Piano teacher, Gebhard Weber is moving to Vienna to take a teaching position. Sasha has a massive crush on Gebhard and at the start of the movie, no one knows he is gay. And thus, hilarity ensues!
It’s the holiday season and that can bring up all kinds of depressing, I mean cheerful feelings, right? Exactly. Holiday season can be complicated for us.
During Halloween weekend, at a gay bar I let out a loud “noooooo!” when I saw three white men, all at the same time, in the following costumes: a Native American man with a headdress, a blue avatar, and Antoine Dodson the Bed Intruder Hero. Thank goodness I didn’t see any blackface!
Indian society has long stifled the Queer expression and our way of communicating with the world. Therefore, the idea of stand up performances as a medium of expression…the Queer expression… is something I can never give a miss. So, this very inclination led me to Mumbai last weekend where the gorgeous and famed founder of Queer Ink, Ms Shobhna was holding a book fair and a Queer Open Mic event as part of the fair festivities.
I’ve got nothing against Oprah in general, but her advice was for moms of young teenagers, not for moms of twenty-somethings. The entirety of my mom’s “sex talk” that she gave me back in the day was “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” And while I appreciate Mom's efforts, honestly, now it’s too little, too late, and basically irrelevant. Mom-type sex-talks tend to be targeted at straight sex, after all.
As a child post queer awakening, I vividly recall sitting in front of black and white keys and eyeing them with much hostility because above them on a ledge were pages and pages with notes to the Moonlight Sonata. And I did not want to play them. I just did not want to. For they made me cry. Even at that age, I recall thinking I was quickly going to run out of tears if I kept at it. Yet, my first thought upon seeing this specific scene in the movie was – “Oh my god…Mom would have done the same thing” …if she knew how to play the piano.