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.
Queerness of a Dalit body, manifestations of such are many- a body that tills the land, a body that cleans, a body that sweeps, a body that tempts, a body that feeds, a body that ruptures, body that swears, a body that's forbidden, bodies that are murdered.
I was in sixth standard when I accepted my homosexual self. Sometime later, I felt the need to feel the male sex and eventually that for a romantic emotional partner. But this need had to be ignored because I was quick to realise the non-existence of queerness/queer dating in my social landscape, a realisation that let my mind perpetuate the absence more generally and universally.
What amuses me is that a post advocating for trans people’s admittance in gender-segregated spaces for cis people immediately triggered a question on ‘competitive sports’. Priorities, priorities. This is hardly the first time I’m seeing an ignorance being passed by a cis person.
A critique of something doesn’t imply that the thing in question is complete garbage (although it sometimes is), but that there are things the piece does wrong that it could do better, which it won’t do better unless one points it out and holds it to a higher standard.
Here is a list of guidelines for creating Gay cis-gendered male characters in visual media as well characters that I feel embody these guidelines well.
Naming one book after the other Saikat’s celebratory tone about the fact that much gay fiction and nonfiction is getting published he misses one more point: diversity. How many fictions, nonfictions by trans writer, Saikat? Or for that matter by any gender nonconforming person? Or anyone under the sun except gay man or woman?
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.
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.
I can't kiss my love on the street, because she might notice the bruises on my heart from beating too loud,
might notice I tremble too much,
night notice I'm bringing an earthquake on the pavement.
The journey we’re leading will always be riddled with hurdles and more often than not, we’re going to find ourselves at odds with our own thoughts. So today, I write to you solely with the intention of letting you know that it’s okay, everything you’re feeling is okay.
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.
When I was 16 or 17, just starting to realise that I was trans (though FAR from accepting it), I was also in the early stages of identifying as asexual. I always felt like my attraction to girls was different than people around me. Obviously, I later realised it’s partly because it was gay attraction and not straight attraction, but at that point I figured that the sexual component was missing for me.
I know I'm living a lie, but it's only because the truth is uglier. I cannot go a day without talking to you, I lose sleep even at the thought of fighting with you. The idea of you not being okay with something in my life makes me wonder if it really is worth it.
As cis women, trans and non-binary persons’ home with and without parents, physical environment, alone spaces are different and are dealt differently but what happens when sexuality never appears as a question out of fear. Is it a privilege that the question appeared much later in my life and I still do not have to bear the brunt of it because I look no different than a cis-heterosexual woman?
But if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I deserve to be deep about my experience as a bisexual, because that aspect of my has been the easiest to deal with. Sure, I’m not out to my family, so that’s a struggle waiting for me in the future.
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.
The moment I saw my little cousin’s eyes droop lower, his face covered in deep grief when my aunt took away his barbie doll, which he was dearly attached to, I strolled down the memory lane when my aunt criticised me for smiling too much because it gave me wrinkles, or when my friend told me that I annoy them too much with my love.
Homonationalism, coined by Rutgers University professor Jasbir K. Puar in 2007 is, to put it simply, the intersection of gay identity and nationalist ideology. This sexual nationalism marks a global shift from Queer identities being pervasive to the idea of the nation, to one which is now a benchmark for progressiveness.