Char of my burnt heart—
Makes watery her eyes
Tears skittering down on her hot cheeks
I long to but cannot wipe
The more we would spend time together the more the love between us would intensify. I have met many men before but meeting Ashton was different. It was as if we were made for each other.
They walked into her apartment and she was too tired to stop leaning against him. His stolid shoulder made for a great resting place for her spinning head. She was too far gone to be mad at herself - she never lost control, she was always walking the line of tipsy and in control so she could tend to her health.
I will not bat an eye if you walk out wearing makeup one day, or a skirt for that matter. If you would rather wear polo shirts and khaki pants, I still wouldn't flinch. I'll love you no matter what, unconditionally, without an asterisk or expectations.
New York-based, Argentinian director Lucio Castro’s debut feature Fin De Siglo (End of the Century) is bundled in this fuzzy melancholy, tracing the inherent sadness of all love stories, queer or straight. Working up to and from a casual encounter through Grinder, the film explores a realm ambiguously wedged between the nature of memory and uncharted possibilities of an enduring relationship.
After the awkwardness had seeped out from Kush’s bones, talking to Prateek became a little bit easier. There was still a giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he had mastered the art of ignoring it.
The popular notion that lesbians desire like men is infuriating: our affections may be directed towards the same subset of the population but we neither experience nor express them in a similar fashion. However, as evident by the movies that I would gravitate towards, my perception of women was unwittingly steeped in the ‘male gaze’.
The two are sitting hand in hand, drinking their coffees in bed and reminiscing about the night before. Venkat raises an eyebrow and smiles, reacting to his lover's words. Dhruvika talks speedily, the butterflies in her tummy fluttering all the way up to her throat.
While we deserve recognition in the eyes of civil law, we don’t owe anybody the performance of the mainstream narrative. Here’s a list of reasons why.
Momentarily shaken, out of
This haze. Drugged by your love.
Your previously sceptical voice:
"You want me so bad,"accepting.
learning the existence
can change lives and the life
Superhero movies have traditionally catered to a male audience with an emphasis on superbly choreographed action sequences with much flare and destruction. ‘Wonder Woman 1984’ turns that on its head. In one of the first action sequences of the movie, we get an “I hate guns” from Diana, as she gracefully and comically stops a robbery at the mall.
All I wanted was to drop to my knees
Put her body on the altar and revere her.
Trace those veins I see on her neck
See which terrains they lead my fingers to.
That, in all likelihood, there never was a real person behind that profile you chatted to. That this foreign ‘friend’ was an enormous scam to get money out of you and you fell for it. You feel shock and nothing makes sense. Your panic and anxiety hit the ceiling. What do you do? How do you get out of this?
A spate of petitions have drenched the halls of various Higher Courts of our country. They carry within them hope for change, but also elicit other peculiar emotions within. This portentous event promises a plethora of possibilities, but not all of them seem good. If parts of the community do get the right to marry, what then? There’s relief, but there’s also fear.
Gender identity and expression should not be a reason for bullying children or anybody else, for that matter. Applying makeup or showing interest in dressing up in any manner does not make anybody more or less human, nor does it have anything to do with being a man.
After a lot of research and self-exploration, I finally accepted myself the way I am and that was the day the real battle started. I had to face a lot of questions regarding my appearance from my so-called relatives and neighbors.
Those who have perfected the art of grieving
will burnish their loss with tears
till it is shiny and reflective. Something to sit in a collection.
I started with a smile to make it look like the topic could not have been more suitable, masking my disdain for it. But as I spoke, only my face wore the mask of smiles, my words did not. As my brain ran out of words to put together in front of a crowd, my heart felt the need to help!
Cages of patriarchy
Bias, gender norms of society,
The institutionalised oppression
Of our challenging beauty.