It is a new morning.
You know you will have to do this over and over and over.
Everytime, you get a little bit stronger. Not because it gets easy, but because you know the
battleground so well.
Recognition of Queer Relationships in Law –
Indian marriages have both religious and civil nature. While personal laws such as Indian Christian Marriages Act, Parsi Marriage Act, Hindu Marriage Act,…
My dad said, " You are my brave boy, you don't need a mask to help you shine."
But little did they know, the mask was now my identity,
Some people knew me with the mask and they loved me.
The teasing started, and that was followed by bullying. Things got worse. I changed schools hoping that the problem would vanish but it seems like the problem was never attached to the school, it was attached to me.
Society ensures you believe that your individual identity is a privilege and standing out is a sin. These quarrelling and kissing bunch of queers unwittingly so ensured that I had my own semblance of a family despite often having been denied one themselves.
I met a man, and he forced me have bareback sex. I knew about HIV precautions but he was adamant enough and I was ignorant and gullible, indeed a guy from the hills who believes and trusts people easily.
It has been almost two years since then, and a lot has changed for me. I have since been on dates with women, made a lot of queer friends, completed my Master’s degree which focused on queer literature, and came out to my parents. And yet here I am, trying to write this piece, not feeling at all like these were victories – my victories, our victories, or any victories at all. I think my queerness was theoretical up to that point in my life, and so my struggles were too.
So here’s the tale!
Here’s to the violet when I was bullied for not being ladylike and pushed against the last
bench of the classroom.
The blood cloth as if showed the first colour of the flag on my skin.
In our conversations, we also realized that we converged in our likeness for the same boys. These boys were out of our reach and with whom we could only dream conversations. I tried to show that I was jealous of us liking the same guys, but I don’t think I cared for them anymore.
So would you not
join me in the investigation
for the world to decipher
why (spoiler alert)
you killed “what a poor boy”.
predictably building up to a steamy lovemaking scene,
marked by the male gaze
and then there's the inseparability
I wasn't good
You weren't all bad
But that wasn't love
And that I understood.
Everyone was in their dormitory but loud whispers in the dark carried out through the hostel corridors. The warden had just retired to her room, and from there she bellowed out names, calling for silence. And I? I was there watching you. I was perched on the bathroom slab; of marble, cold and flat. I remember that. I sat on it unflinching still because I couldn’t allow myself to seem fragile. You had just finished washing your undergarments, and were slowly clipping them up to dry at the other end of the washroom.
In that moment, I realised that this was mostly everyone’s stance on the LGBTQ+ community in Mysore. No one was willing to talk about it, and those who thought differently about it were too scared to speak up because Mysore is a very close-knit community and family name matters a lot over here.
With all on-ground job fairs cancelled due to the Covid-19 pandemic, Vividhataa has stepped up and created an alternative way for minority candidates to find work during lockdown. The online event — scheduled to take place via Zoom from Aug. 1st to 3rd — is believed to be the first of its kind in India.
I got really tired of being a woman who had to be “perfect” at every turn. I could not have a many days where I could sit and do nothing because I was depressed. It was frowned upon. Depression is frowned upon.
As someone who had been the new kid too many times and didn’t have a close group of friends, I longed to fit in somewhere. I desperately wanted to be a part of the queer community. I took so many “Am I Gay?” and “Where are you on the Kinsey Scale” quizzes, modifying my answers to get the result I wanted.
Nudity or boudoir art is the oldest form of art which has suffered from perceptions of the audience. However, nudity in my body of work developed meanings and answers the question why on a daily basis but in its truest form it is a celebration of oneself.
This ideal, set in 1915, of female and femme presenting bodies, to have smooth, alabaster skin, was one of capitalistic opportunism. However, over the years, through perpetuation and amplifying media imagery, it has evolved into a defining characteristic of femininity itself.
We met when I was exhibiting Out Here and Now, a series of paintings that became my personal and professional coming out breakthrough. Only the week before I had ended a 13-year relationship, mostly hidden, with a younger man from my village. Our views of the future had diverged and began to conflict. I was coming out as a gay man and artist; he didn’t want to test the dangers of a more public life any further than we already had. I didn’t blame him.