There is an inherent problem in assuming we can only talk about our personal lives and nothing else, that we are somehow remote from, say the migrant crisis and Islamophobia during COVID-19. By foregrounding one aspect of ourselves at the expense of other equally important concerns, inclusivity efforts in their present restrict rather than expand our civic engagement.
Can we be cautiously optimistic that this unprecedented and once-in-a-lifetime crisis will change the gay narrative, particularly in India?
She ignores my remark and continues to dream about her second daughter marrying an upper caste boy and raise sons. The last time I let the truth slip out, she laughed it off as a cruel joke.
Growing up, I always saw myself as British Asian. That was the culture that I was born into and existed in. But this identity conflicted with itself. British and Asian are two words that felt like two entirely different worlds, and it seemed almost impossible to be both.
Sweeping pieces of my heart from under the bed, the table and shedding the bits that get stuck to the broom is old. But damn, it felt so much worse after us. Your complex cage set me free and returning to you felt better than seeing the world.
Tomorrow might never come, my love. The sun might burn us down before we choose to sit back and think of what we haven't felt. Stop cutting away your lonely pieces before you run out of yourself. Bind your crevices with the strength of your tears and accompany yourself in your hard times.
I now remember a circus
It was no fun
I hate clowns too
they remind me of McDonalds
Never really liked McDonalds.
Why am I thinking of food, again?
Am I still smoking?
As montage, everything appears as a series of windows, all of them just frames, one after the other. The form is predetermined. I only meet my friends when we say goodbye or when I have to pay my dues. Then it falls apart.
Spreading smiles, and love to everyone I meet, I am a popular girl, you know, the bubbly and cuddly piece of happiness, everyone wants to have a share of.
I unfolded the letter and looked at my clean handwriting. It was dated 30 December 2018. I had written it on my 19th birthday and it was addressed to someone very important to me.
maybe my skin is pale, or it’s not
or maybe i think i’m gay, or i’ve fought
battles and cried and begged for my rights
Jokes aside, I wonder whether Matt LeBlanc could have envisaged that his character’s quip about “The Friend Zone” from 1994 would evolve into this phenomenon of male-entitlement a decade later. Yes, it’s competing for the top-spot against stealthing and marital rape, y’all!
Coming back to my dilemma, which I know is annoyingly cliché like a LOT OF HETEROSEXUAL ROMANTIC FLICKS! Except the fact I’m undoubtedly GAY for my best-friend. Period.
Since the beginning, our country has persistently tried to pass off bigotry, and intolerance as culture. Our elders preach that homosexuality is wrong, that it is 'abnormal’ and 'unnatural’ to fall in love with the same sex.
The thing I have noticed clearly and have heard from other queer people is that the spaces with cishet moderators often have an air of safety being at least partially compromised, facing ‘cishet-splaining’ of queer issues to downright domination of queer spaces.
My aunt, who I came out to almost a week before had outed me to my parents. (Yes, I didn’t get a chance to properly come out to my parents!) All the details that I gave her about me discovering my sexuality, the girl that I was dating and how I pictured my future (so that she doesn’t lose her mind completely) was broken down and manipulated into bits and given to my parents.
The film does nothing to challenge patriarchal norms but rather neatly works within them, and that’s one of the reasons for the film’s success. It doesn’t require us to look within and change anything, but it reinforces already held beliefs and, at most, asks for minor readjustments to allow the audience to applaud their ability to learn and revel in their liberal and progressive world-views. We’ve learnt so much. Let’s not slap the good self-sacrificing woman, shall we?
The sit-in protest at Bilal Bagh is fast approaching its 30 day mark, and there’s no stopping. But the toll that constant protesting takes on its young, queer participants is heavy.
Don’t get me wrong,
My fight is not with that woman, I am just a different kind of woman.
I’m sorry, but who are you Mr. Khurrana and team to tell anyone that they are "incomplete"?