Dear Sahithya is a very simple, small-budget indie documentary that made me profusely emotional and cry. The film directed by Leo Paapam and produced by Buddhijeev Studios is a 23-minute non-fiction documentary. Before diving into the film itself, here’s a small note about the production house: Buddhijeev Studios is an initiative by Shridhar Sudhir, a filmmaker and film studies faculty. According to Leo, the production house is “actively collaborating and working to bring together voices that are trying to make thought provoking content. All of the crew that worked on this film did out of their alignment towards this same value.”

The film lets us be part of Sahithya’s journey of getting a double incision mastectomy AKA top surgery. I usually am very critical with my reviews, but this film resonated so deeply with me that I am going to pour my heart out into this piece.

Shaky low-quality shots in poorly lit rooms: this isn’t the most cinematic film I have seen of course, but at the centre of it all, is raw storytelling. Yes, aesthetics and cinematography help a lot, but this film managed to touch my heart with its genuine voice. In the end, cinema is storytelling, and any film that fails to weave a story is simply a hollow facade of pompous B-rolls that lead to nowhere. Dear Sahithya, though, enraptured me with its simple, honest, and raw narrative. When Leo Paapam told us that this was not a documentary film but a love letter to their friend Sahithya, they were not lying. The film is brimming with warmth and love for Sahithya, from the director, their chosen family, and their mother.

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The film starts with Sahithya reading a letter out loud. This letter is one among many that they wrote for their future self a while ago. We listen to Sahitya narrate their story and take us through places that their eyes have seen. We see them as a musician, a drummer in an indie band. We hear them talk about being forced to visit temples where they feel their identity is disrespected regularly. We hear them talk about how they have always struggled to feel confident about their identity and the decision to go through with the top surgery. The letters that they wrote to their future self and their family are what helped them get here.

When we hear of trans coming out stories, we quite often hear about this surety that they had, this confidence in their decision to go through a top or bottom surgery or or any kind of gender-affirming medical procedure. Dear Sahithya gives us a glimpse into a more relatable version of events (at least, for me). It shows how we are all humans who have fears and doubts and that it is okay to have them. When Sahithya talks about how they had to constantly remind themselves that this surgery was something they wanted, I saw a glimpse of me in it. Frankly, everything about Sahithya’s journey felt very similar to the doubts, the fears, and the victories that I have had in my journey of exploring my gender identity.

I saw myself in Sahithya.

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There are these wholesome interactions we see of Sahithya and their mother which reminded me a lot of my relationship with my own mother. Sahithya’s mother finds it hard to grasp why their child would want to put their body through this surgery and we see their furrowed eyebrows and wrinkled forehead when they say “What will happen when I am gone? Will [they] be okay?” It reminded me of how my mother expresses her feelings when I talk to her about my queerness.

I saw myself in Sahithya.

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When their friends plan their visits to the hospital and staying over with Sahithya after surgery, it reminded me of my friends and of my chosen family. I got to talk to Leo, the director, who is also Sahithya’s very close friend. Through our conversations, I could tell how deeply they felt for their friend. I saw that this connection was that of a chosen family. Leo did not just bring Sahithya’s story to life but also lived their story with them.

I saw myself in Sahithya.

My chat with Leo was pleasant and eye-opening. They told me about their journey as a filmmaker: how they started with photography and continue to experiment and learn cinematography. We also talked, of course, a lot about the film. I asked them about their creative process and how they ended up with this heartwarming piece of art. Leo hails from Vizag but lives an itinerant lifestyle thanks to their work. When they visited Mumbai, a city that has a thriving queer life, they were quite overwhelmed. The suburbs of Navi Mumbai and Thane are where they found their people like Sahithya. Leo shared with me how their journey from a closeted artist to the director of a queer documentary film was possible because of their art and the people that they found. To me, this film was not just a love letter to Sahithya from Leo but also one from Leo to themselves. I also got to ask them about the symbolism and intended meanings of various scenes like the one where we see Sahithya’s father. We briefly see him because as Leo states: “he is just a background character who doesn’t really wish to participate in Sahithya’s journey”. When asked about how being a queer artist has liberated and limited them, they told me how they feel comfortable and enjoy the liberation that comes with being a queer artist, but they also feel like typecasting and things of the sort really put queer artists in a box and that can be limiting.

“Now that it’s done,

Who have you become?”

A song written and sung by Sahithya plays as the credits roll.

Leo explained to me how after the surgery we see the scene where everyone is sleeping but Sahithya is awake, this is to show how Sahithya still thinks that they are dreaming. To Sahithya, this is akin to being born again, and to their chosen family and mother, this event is like the birth of a firstborn; one that demands grand celebrations. This film, to me, was cathartic. It told an honest tale of a trans non-binary person. The doubts, the fears, the acceptance, and the queer joy, all turned my tears into a waterfall. 

“Will I be loved regardless of who I am?” I asked myself, and Dear Sahithya gently hugged me and replied “Yes”.