Based in the sixties, in the small town of Pipalnagar where nothing ever happens, the story is told from the point of view of Arun, an aspiring writer, who aims to one day live in Delhi. While the town of Pipalnagar is almost a character of the story in itself, Arun is only living there because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
I always wished there could be as many books by queer authors or books on subjects concerning queer lives, but after reading The Other Guy (Leadstart Publishing, 2017) by Aakash Mehrotra I don’t know if this book, and its likes, help us achieve the function of literature.
While the trans community is the one she is actively discriminating against, other LGBTQ+ individuals, Trans allies, and members of the Harry Potter fandom are also speaking up about the disappointing and dangerous way that the author is deciding to use the influence that she has because of the global community that has loved her work.
The spirit of small towns is perfectly captured in the balance and negotiation of intimacy and secrecy between characters, and the racism against and politicization of immigrants is explored without the writing style getting too preachy.
What began as a thesis while pursuing his masters in Comparative Media Studies in MIT became the first ethnography of gay life in contemporary India. It to help gay men explore their sexuality and accept their identities. It charts the growth and trajectories these offline-online communities as a result of globalisation and the subsequent changes.
Yesterday, I finished reading this in an hour, and basis my current political understanding of the feminist and queer discourse, I thought to again indulge in a conversation with this book and assess the magnitude of its contents.
When I finished browsing through this heavy pink-covered hardcover book that has Paolo Sergio de Castro’s image on the front – who died of AIDS and the book is dedicated to him – with “wish you were here” in golden color, I was overwhelmed with emotions. These 128 pages, cover to cover, carries the making of someone; multiple landscapes that change as abruptly as does the subjects of assessment of Sunil.
Being a collection of vignettes doesn’t mean that this book doesn’t have a structure. It does. Divided in three part — bucketing several private events that happened between 1968–1997, 1997–2006, and after 2006, and juxtaposing them with the social reality in France — this memoir takes us through the author’s internal dilemmas and struggles.
There’s a way in which nation works. And some nations believe in their “greatness.” They believe in their masculinity, their powerfulness, their unbreakability, their purity.
The panel stood apart from all others at JLF because it has everything from deep moments of self-reflection and instances of recounting trauma to voguing and cracking jokes about the queer experience.
Although this book is a recommended read for anyone interested in sex research, it’s important to remember that the nature of sex research differs depending on disciplinary focus.
While Ruth Vanita makes it clear that the book is not an exhaustive history book of same-sex unions, she belabours the point that same-sex unions are not (and never were) an exclusively modern phenomenon.
The book opens with Tobia's childhood in the section Kiddo, where they speak about their fixation with Barbie (and the hunky-dory Ken too!) and their curiosity about ‘pee-pees’ and 'wee-wees' if you know what I mean.
Sadat’s book is a heartfelt coming-of-age story of a young boy who not only has to deal with the struggles of being gay in a conservative society but also has to survive war, starvation and intense loss while doing so.
Published by SAGE Publications Rao's book is a collection of nine essays strung around themes of investigating an every-person view of queer theory.
On the 19th of October, Gaysi Family has put together a day of exploration and creation around a theme we love and have been working around for and since our horror zine, Normal.
The stories are interspersed with advice from psychologist Arpita Anand, and the collection is broken down based on different forms of depression and therapy, dealing with everything from Clinical Depression to Cognitive Behaviour Therapy and also tackling Post-Partum Depression.
The idea behind NORMAL was to not only pay homage to the genre of horror – from some of its cult tropes, to taking it in extreme spaces – but do it while holding on to an inherently Indian, desi, voice.
As I read this book, I was shaken; recognising myself in characters/people I didn’t particularly like and realising things about my own securely held beliefs is not a comfortable feeling (albeit a necessary one). It encouraged me, gently but firmly, to step out outside my worldview to digest what it means to serve your country.
The book, only available in South Asia currently has been garnering attention for its view of Afgan society. Nemat sits down with Gaysi to discuss his debut book, queer narratives from Afghanistan and how literature has a role to transform how politics of the marginalised continue to be viewed.