*Light spoilers mentioned ahead.
Velipādu. is a short film that doesn’t rush to explain its intentions. Instead, it lingers on the main characters, the silences shared between them, and especially the uneasy space between who they are and who they’re expected to be. That space, for many desi queer viewers, can feel painfully familiar.
Velipādu is a Malayalam short queer film directed by Jijo Kuriakose that was made in April 2024. Then it had been screened at the Kashish Pride Film Festival, earning a jury special mention at the Dada Saheb Film Festival in Delhi, and selected for more than 40 international festivals while winning several awards along the way. It then got released on YouTube in February 2026, making it accessible for all to watch. The film opens with a tribute to a few close friends of Jijo who left this world too soon due to the homophobia faced in Kerala.
Jijo also mentions over email how bringing Velipādu into an existing script to screen was a difficult journey, but it was one that felt essential, a story that needed to be told, and one that could meaningfully impact those who experience it. “I once met a gay priest who shared his inner conflict. His response, along with my deep interest in understanding the diversity of masculinities from the Kerala cultural context and my own coming out experience, paved the way for Velipādu’s script.”
At its core, Velipādu follows Johnny’s journey, a Malayali man whose life is kind of like anyone else’s; one that is guided by the expectations of others. Through his daily moments with his friend Jo, Johnny begins to discover that his friendship with Jo is something more. Their intimate interactions carry a warmth and tenderness that can be felt beyond the screen. These soft, gentle moments are abruptly interrupted when someone finds them together. In the next few scenes, it is discovered that Johnny is soon set to be engaged to Jisha, while Jo is exempted from the seminary they both used to be a part of.
What makes the film compelling is the way they choose to unveil this “revelation” of identity. Rather than staging a grand epiphany, the film opts for something smaller, more on the internal side. Johnny’s journey to his truth is not a dramatic transformation but a peeling away of denial, fear, and inherited silence. In this way, the film mirrors the lived reality of queerness in South Asian contexts, where self‑realisation often unfolds in private reckonings rather than public declarations.
Velipādu trust the audience to sit with discomfort, especially when it comes to Johnny wrestling with being gay. Queer experiences, especially in desi spaces, rarely follow neat scripts. They are messy negotiations between visibility and safety, expression and restraint. This short filmcaptures the tension of beginnings: the tentative steps, the confusion, the simultaneous pull of desire and fear. “Not every queer person has the privilege to express desire and experience sex within the safe space of closed rooms, especially in rural spaces.”
Two sequences stand out to me while watching the film. In one, Jisha calls Johnny, asking if he is truly interested in a relationship with her. The confrontation is subtle yet powerful: Jisha holds her own, while Johnny wrestles with the weight of expectation and hiding situations that happened with Jo from Jisha. In another, Johnny sits among seminarians, and the scene dissolves into a dreamlike state where men hazily hold each other. This daydream, followed by perfectly cued music, offers a glimpse of Johnny’s longing, a warm embrace that exists only in imagination, yet feels achingly real. “This is exactly why I wanted to include three short songs in the film, which are along the lines of queer gaze, male-same-sex-desire and intimacy.”
The film also hints at polyamory, weaving in Johnny’s old flame alongside Jo’s new partner. Both characters hold space for him, even amid his confusion. These moments expand the film’s exploration of desire beyond conventional binaries. Jijo touches upon a lovely point regarding polyamoury, “Queer people inform society about the possibility and beauty of chosen families, and Johnny finds joy being with his ex-lover and the ex-lover’s life partner. The three men continue to Be Together, and share belongingness!”
In the end, the film captures the quiet, complicated truths of desi queer lives, truths that are often hidden, often denied, but always present. Velipādu reminds us that the revelation is not always a spectacle. Sometimes, it is simply the courage to sit with oneself, even if only for a moment. And on that note, I will leave you with words from Jijo to young queer desi folks, “Be You! That’s one thing I always want to inform fellow queer beings. Don’t put yourself in the pedals of pressure. Seek support whenever necessary. We all survived, and the future is hopeful for Queer Indians. Dance, sing, protest, make art, make out. Never regret being queer.”
You can watch Velipādu-The Revelation on YouTube now!
Definitely look forward to Jijo Kuriakose’s upcoming work as it will be a film that speaks to older desi folks regarding the intersection of ageing and solitude, and so much more.
