#desi lgbtq fest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

indian-kahani · 11 months

Text

Desi LGBT+ Fest 2023

@desi-lgbt-fest

Day 2: Legacy

All her life, Durga had been told that she was a good daughter.

All through school, she had been called a ‘pleasure to teach’. Students regarded her with wary awe: she was the good girl, who did her homework and listened to the teacher and never, ever stepped a foot out of line.

All my life, her father had told her, “Beti, you have to be a good girl. Strike that – you have to be the best. There are many eyes watching us.”

He was right, of course. He was a major army lieutenant – Arjit Sindh, a household name for his medals and bravery. Ever since Durga was a child, she had watched him salute the tricolour every morning, watched his juniors (and god, there were lots of them) salute to him.

While others dreamed of being artists and musicians, she dreamed of her first day holding a rifle.

While others looked up to Abdul Kalam or Lata Mangeshkar, her walls were covered in photos of Gunjan Saxena, Vikram Batra, everyone who had ever won the Param Vir chakra.

She had a legacy to inherit, a place to fill.

Her dreams may have been out of place, but they were in vivid technicolour none the less. She faced up to her dream with a steady heart.

Her father approved, and watched from a distance as the Indian Army became entrenched deep inside her heart.

She had always followed in his footsteps. The golden girl she might have been, but she was a golden girl you shouldn’t mess with. She had always been raised to be a loyal servant of the army, the loyal servant of her country.

As her father's daughter, she was proud to uphold his legacy.

Karate, Jiu Jitsu, yoga, junior boot camp. Durga was signed up for all of it, and every summer she trained without fail.

On her eighteenth birthday, she joined the army. What else could she do? I mean, it had been her dream for as long as she could remember. She hit it out of the park. She had been training to assemble a gun since she was sixteen. The other recruits were no match for her.

They were playing for glory (or so she thought).

She was playing for honour.

Or was she?

Durga saw her first at her graduation ceremony.

Her name was before Durga’s.

“Sharma, Saranika!”

Saranika. Such a beautiful name.

All of a sudden, she was reminded of her childhood when her mother sang beautiful Hindustani music. That was what Saranika Sharma's name reminded Durga of.

“Sindh, Durga!”

She snapped out of she reverie, and walked onto the stage, determined to forget the girl with the beautiful name.

Months passed. Promotion after promotion came her way. Talent, or nepotism? Who knew? Slowly but surely, she was becoming jaded. Life seemed grey and joyless, and even at the young age of twenty-one, the lines under her eyes were becoming more and more pronounced.

The day was an ordinary one – so mundane that Durga didn’t even read over the details, instead preferring to wing the training exercise. She was assigned two officers to help out. Major Raj Kuldeep and Major Saranika Sharma.

…wait, what?

She re-read the document again, eyes alight. Major Saranika Sharma.

Almost unbidden, her mind flashed back to that day, when she had heard her name but didn’t see her face. Durga’s heart stumbled at just the thought, secretive smile stretching her lips open. It hurt – maybe the first time she had smiled in days, weeks even.

She arrived at the training exercise fifteen minutes early, pretending to be absorbed in the details of the exercise.

An officer arrived, and saluted in front of her. “Ma’am!”

From the evidently male voice, her hopes were dashed already. She looked up. “Major Kuldeep.” She inclined her head in recognition, and the man smiled at her tightly. It was a regulation army smile – deferent and not too intimate.

“I believe Officer Sharma will be arriving in a few minutes, ma’am.” He informed, and she nodded, returning to her papers to hide the thumping of her heart.

Why was I feeling this way? The thought hit her all of a sudden, but she didn’t have time to process it.

She had arrived.

“Ma’am, it’s good to finally meet you.” she deferred from the standard greeting, and she looked up.

She was beautiful. My God, she was beautiful. Her cinnamon skin looked so soft, and Durga fought to tear her eyes off of her prominent collarbones-

Durga’s eyes widened as she hastily raised her eyes to meet her face.

She instantly regretted it. Wide, honest eyes, full lips, and a gorgeously sharp jawline.

Before she could say something she would regret, she greeted her. “Major Sharma, may I ask why?” Hints of curiosity pricked at her. She wanted to unravel every secret of this Saranika’s, big and small.

Saranika met her gaze with the barest hint of a challenge in the way she raised her chin. “Who wouldn’t want to meet the prodigy of the army?” she smiled with a small shrug. Major Kuldeep was watching, slack-jawed, at the casual way Major Sharma was addressing Durga, but the women had only eyes for each other.

“I hardly believe I’m a prodigy.” The words slipped out before Durga could change them, and she disguised the raw honesty in them with a short laugh. “Hard work gets you far, Major Sharma.”

Suddenly, she wanted to get as far away from this enchanting woman as possible. She could feel her back prickle with sweat and she could swear her face was heating up.

“I don’t doubt it, ma’am.” Saranika – no, she was Major Sharma, when had Durga started addressing her so casually? – replied promptly. “Talent can only get you so for before you need more to take you further.”

Durga ended the conversation with a clipped nod, checking the watch on her wrist. “We had best be going.” She turned to Kuldeep, who snapped to attention. “At ease.”

She finished the training in a daze, dismissing the recruits five minutes early with an uneasy frown on her face. Rumours were flying around that the infamous Durga Sindh had something on her mind. She heeded none of it as she headed to the mess hall to eat lunch.

Almost out of instinct, she scanned the hall for Saranika, finally noticing her tucked away in the back of the hall.

She sent her a note to come and eat with her in her office. Saranika arrived five minutes later.

Durga gestured for her to sit down. “I was impressed with your performance in the training exercise today, Major Sharma.” Bullshit. She hadn’t paid attention to even a single second of that training exercise.

Saranika ducked her head shyly, a strand of hair falling forward, and Durga resisted the urge to lean forward and tuck it behind her ear. “Thankyou, ma’am. I appreciate it.”

“Call me Durga. No need for formalities in my office.” She blurted out, cursing herself immediately as the words slipped out. That seemed to happen a lot around her.

Saranika looked up suddenly, startled. “I couldn’t possibly be so… informal, ma’am.” She hesitated.

“I insist.” Durga said.

“Very well, then… Durga-ji.”

From then on, it only got better. Lunch turned into days off, days off turned into weekends until finally, Durga worked up the courage.

“I- I wanted- what I meant to say was- the thing is- will you be my girlfriend?”

The sight of her then, with her hair loose and framing her face, was enough for Durga to plant a chaste kiss on the cheek of her girlfriend.

Only one thing was left.

Durga had to tell her father, a strict adherent to tradition and principles, that she was a lesbian.

“Papa… I met someone.”

She had phrased it carefully enough, hesitating over each and every word. Her father, aged but no less sharp, looked at her (or through her, it seemed sometimes).

“That’s lovely, beti.” His old face creased in a smile. “Bring him home this weekend, hm?”

There it was. Durga opened her mouth and closed it again, pressing her lips together in shame of her own cowardice. Her father was watching.

“He’s a Hindu, right? Not a Muslim? It’s okay if he is, as long as he’s respectful to you.” Her father tried to reassure her seeing her distress, and tears fell down Durga’s cheeks.

“She’s not a boy!” she burst out all of a sudden, hiding her face in her hands as she heard her father’s small intake of breath. Water dripped from her eyes, wetting her hands and falling in droplets onto the cold marble times.

“Accha, I see.” Her father leaned forward in his chair, wiping Durga’s tears away. “Bring her home this weekend, hm? I hope she’s pretty.”

Durga couldn’t do anything much more than stare. “You’re- you’re okay with this? But people will-”

He let out a deep chuckle. “The world has changed since I was young, Durga.” He smiled down on her fondly. “You young people are teaching us that it is okay to love whoever you love. There are people out there like you and your girlfriend, right?”

Durga nodded, open-mouthed. “But- papa- you- I’m a lesbian.”

He waved her away, a mock frown on his face. “Of course I know that now. I’m not stupid. Bring that girl home on Saturday, and I will see what food we can get for her. Leave it to me.”

Yes, her father followed tradition. Yes, he had his legacy to uphold, and his honour. But he was a man of good sense, and the world was changing after all. Why not see what good it could bring?

---------

Okay so I know nothing about the military, literally nothing so the ranks/greetings/whatever might be off, please suspend disbelief while reading :D and tell me what you think in reblogs/comments!

#avani #avani writes #indian-kahani #desi lgbt+ fest #lgbtq+#lesbian #military?

104 notes · View notes

desi-lgbt-fest · 2 years

Text

Day 11: Share week prompt "First Time You heard Gay"

For me, the first time I heard the word Gay was in 6th grade when we were reading 'Daffodils' and a girl with a stutter kept stoping on the word 'gay', all the others laughed, while I was confused. The teacher scolded the entire class "If you're laughing at the word 'gay' shame on you. Aren't they people too? If you're laughing at her stutter, twice the shame on you."

I was still immensely confused, until a friend explained and accidentally came out.

What was your experience?

-Mod Raissa

#share week #desi LGBTQ fest 2022 #Gay #mod raissa

145 notes · View notes

shankhachil · 2 years

Text

homodbodhan

An article, somewhat. For day 11 of the Desi LGBT Fest 2022, prompt: “The first time you heard ‘gay’”.

I’m going to change this up a bit. I mean, not that I’m not going to tell you the first time I heard the word “gay”, but there’s some more that I want to talk about and I think this is a good chance to share it.

Okay, so first of all, the first time I heard “gay”. Actually, technically, that doesn’t count either, because, really, the first time I ever had a sensory experience of some sort with this word (and doesn’t that just sound wrong?) was from a book called Jobless Clueless Reckless by Revathi Suresh, when I was eight years old. I read the word “gay”. The book itself is YA, but age restrictions never had any meaning to me, since I was often left to my own devices by my parents. Well — I probably shouldn’t have been reading that book, since it’s a bit mature for an eight-year-old, but the point stands.

A phrase from the book went something like “(....) it’s like he’s determined to show the world he’s gay (....)”. It’s not the exact quote — I have the book in my shelf at home but I can’t be bothered to dig it out — but it’s close. The context, here, is that the narrator’s younger brother likes those beginner’s cross-stitching and knitting sets, and is proudly displaying his collection to the narrator’s crush.

You see the issue with the narration here, obviously. I’m sure you’re all thinking “casual homophobia” right now, and, yes, once I was old enough to understand what “gay” meant, I went back to this book and said “Yikes!” out loud when I came to this part.

But onwards. I went to my mother and asked her what “gay” meant. She said, “Don’t say such words, you’re not old enough,” and so for a few years I went around thinking that “gay” was a profane word.

And that was it for that. It was the first time I had read, and then heard, the word “gay” at all. But it doesn’t really count because I only understood what it meant three years later. I’ve mentioned in my last post for the Fest that I realized I was gay some months after Section 377 was abolished. It was (I also said) the first time I heard “gay” and actually wondered about what it meant. I was eleven years old, and I enjoyed seeing pictures of attractive men, and didn’t really understand what my friends (who were, looking back, perhaps a bit too mature for their age) meant when they called women “hot”.

I saw “gay” and I went on Google — or maybe Wikipedia — and I looked at what it meant. I read very thoroughly, actually. For a week, when my mother wasn’t actively making me study or go to table-tennis classes or what-have-you, I went onto the Internet on my iPad and researched the LGBTQ+ community like I’d never researched anything before.

I came out of it a changed boy. Obviously, for a few months, I didn’t realize I was gay, I never even considered the fact that I was attracted to men. It never even occurred to me that other boys I knew just... weren’t like me.

A few months later, I started really thinking about whether I was gay or not. It was at the back of my mind for a while. Sometimes I wouldn’t think about it, sometimes I would. More than a year went by like this. And then, in March of the year I turned thirteen, the COVID pandemic came to India. I had already had a lot of alone time — and this increased to almost ten or eleven hours a day. At this point, of course, I had begun to hit puberty, which, combined with the fact that I am decidedly not asexual, led to the development of some... urges. You know what I mean. It feels weird to talk about it since it was so recent. If I’d been in, say, my thirties, I could probably have talked about it more freely, perhaps with a laugh, a look how dumb I was. But I am far from being in my twenties, let alone my thirties, and so I will not elaborate — much.

Skipping the fine details, I will say here that I discovered at thirteen that straight porn did absolutely nothing, and gay porn did everything for me.

Seventh grade, though, had brought my first crush, Who was a girl, and also my best friend. This made things difficult.

So, instead of saying I was gay, I came out to that best friend (who obviously didn’t know I liked her) as bisexual. And that was officially the first label I applied to myself. It was wonderful. These days, to avoid having to explain my full identity, I say I’m bisexual to most people. Most of them don’t ask further.

Fast-forward two more years to now. I discovered that I am demiromantic and homosexual. More labels.

Labels. Probably the most interesting thing that humans have invented — little words that tell you what kind of person a person is, what they do, who they love, where they’re from. All for the uniquely-Homo sapiens purpose of classification. We cannot live without categorizing people into kinds. Detrimental sometimes, yes, but, at its core, one of the most fascinating things about human psychology.

To be honest, before I discovered different kinds of labels, I never really knew anything about myself. I mean... I did, just not actively. The fact that I am Indian, or Bengali, or, for that matter, a boy, never really set itself in my mind very concretely. I never thought about it as much as some people seem to do.

I think that labels are the thing that have helped me most on my journey of self-discovery. Not meditation, or reading, or love interests, but labels. Everything I’ve ever known about myself has been from seeing a word, thinking about it, and going, is this me?

So, back again to the first time I heard the word “gay”. The first time I experienced the word “gay”. The time I came out as bisexual. The eleventh of June, 2022, as I write this post.

If any of these had not happened, I wouldn’t know who I am or where I am as accurately and clearly as I know now.

Thank you, then, to Revathi Suresh, the Supreme Court, my friend M, and you all. As all the stars say — wouldn’t be here without you.

***

@desi-lgbt-fest

#me speaking #original work #lgbtq+#gay #queer

20 notes · View notes

brwngrlventing · 3 years

Text

Clothing, makeup, jewellery, shoes etc everything we wear and put on are just materials and fabrics joined together in a specific pattern... so why enforce a gender binary onto them so strongly?

Lets not push everyone in society into a box!

Another series for Pride 2021 since the last one was recieved so well ♥️ @desi-lgbt-fest

#desi lgbt fest #gender #gender binary #south asian #queer desi #lgbt desi #gaysian #desi #lgbtq #pride #lgbt #queer #non binary #clothing

211 notes · View notes

navarice · 3 years

Text

Prompt 13: Run

||@desi-lgbt-fest

তোমার সুন্দর হাত

আমার শরীরএ আছে

জোতোটা আমি দূরে যেতে চাই

তোতটা আমি পারিনা

Your beautiful fingers

Linger against my skin

The more i want to run away

The less i am able to

#hey look some bangla #disclaimer this is gramatically incorrect #i am learning #anyway i love my language and culture #yes loving our language is a personality trait #desi #queer #lgbtq #desi lgbt fest #bengali #bangla #again. gay bc i said so #enjoy my bengalis ily yall

67 notes · View notes

toripar · 3 years

Text

sindoor khela !! w simi + yana 🥺

bengali married women do this on the last day of durga puja, and honestly i find it very intimate :) i enjoyed drawing them sm!!

@desi-lgbt-fest days 22 + 23: ritual + red.

#toripart #rimi.ocs #lgbtq #lesbian #bisexual #bigender #myart #desi tag #desi lgbt fest #doodles #simi #yana #durga puja

65 notes · View notes

anjalis-ennui · 3 years

Text

hello hello! i decided to do the pride month event by @desi-lgbt-fest! i wrote this piece to honor my trans mtf cousin who isn't out to her parents yet.

disclaimer: this is in no way trying to dictate the experiences of actual trans people (i am not trans). this is simply my take on how it must feel. i apologize for any inconsistencies or misinformation, and i would love to get feedback!

warnings: mentions of strangulation, smoking (figurative), and suicide attempts

day 1: pride

Beauty. She felt beautiful in her dress, twirling and twirling around like the merry-go-rounds of her childhood. She was dancing on air, the clouds her audience and the sky her stage. Her long hair, bound by her pagdi, felt like it was blowing in the wind, her hairy arms bristling with the cold air of the early morning. She hated that she had to hide her true nature in the dark, shrouded by trees, but what other way could she truly feel happy?

Chains. Her body felt like chains around her as she biked. She looked around at the people walking and glancing at her and knew that they saw a fat boy biking down the street. Hell, they might even comment on her "headwear" and how uncouth it was. She swallowed her strangled sob and continued biking. How uncouth of her.

Culture. Her culture seemed like a noose, strangling her where she stood. Little did her culture know that swallowing pills and jumping into a river hadn't worked, so what would a noose do? Whatever God was up there didn't want her dead, so why should she bother trying? This piece of cloth she wore to bind her hair was like a glaring sign to every Indian within miles that she was a boy. She wasn't. She couldn't be.

Duty. Was her duty to her culture, her heritage, or her heart? Watching Mulan with her cousin had given her more existential questions to mull over with a blunt of ennui. Heart or heritage? She might as well run away when she turned eighteen, lose all connection to her past, and create a new future where she was herself--no one else.

Heart. Her heart felt like it might break into pieces. She was selfish, there was no denying that. Why else would she want to run away? She would give up all hope of convincing her parents she was born in the wrong body, but her soul was still the same. There was no point.

There is no point.

#lgbtq #transgender #trans pride #desi lgbt fest #gaysis 2021 #jade's jasmine tea #suicide tw #suicide attempt tw #strangling tw #drugs tw #smoking tw

16 notes · View notes

is-weird-me · 3 years

Text

Day 11: Home

for the @desi-lgbt-fest 30 day prompt challenge

note: idk what this is, i have no idea what’s happening but im probably gonna turn this into a mini series who knows?

warnings: homophobia, and unintentional physical abuse i guess

When I was 11 years old, my mamma had finally given me the keys to our house. It wasn’t just Mamma and Papa’s house, it was my house. There were day when I would come back from school when mamma and papa weren’t home. I remember fishing out my keys from my bag, inserting them into the keyhole. There would be a click and the door would open. There would be the smell of house, of mamma’s potted plants and the slight smell of Haldi. It was that very particular smell that made home, home.

And I remember going into the kitchen and climbing on the counter to reacher the cabinet and pulling out that one bottle of Bornvita that Mamma hid at the very back and eating a spoonful. Letting the chocolate spread all over my mouth some pieces sticking into my teeth and flicking my tongue over my teeth to remove them. I would hide the Bornvita back into the exact place mamma hid it and wash the spoon so that she wouldn’t get suspicious. She would find out later anyway, but the smile on her face when I got scolded told me it was okay but the next time it happens I would in trouble. And I would go sit on the sofa where Papa was watching some cricket match and he would give me a wink and tell me I did a good job removing all the evidence and I would laugh.

When I was 13, we were having dinner at home. Mamma and Papa looked really distressed. The Kadai Gosh sitting on the table was getting cold as they whispered amongst themselves. And I looked at them with wonder, what was so important that they didn’t even touch their food. I was put to bed after dinner, when I called out goodnight I didn’t get an answer.

The next day was Sunday, it was the weekend and I was excited to go play with Rahul, my neighbor. I was heading out the door, Papa was out at the market buying food and Mamma was talking to Nani on the phone when she asked me where I was going, putting the phone away from her ear. I replied, telling I was going over to Rahul’s. I remember the face that she made clearly to this day, there was shock and panic on her face like I had never seen before, it was a face I will never forget. She stormed towards me and pulled my arm to drag me away while her other hand slammed the door shut.

“Uske ghar nahi jana hain aur usse baat nahi kar ni hain, ghar main bhi nahi aur school main bhi nahi, samja?” She had said, her hand tightening around my arm, leaving bruises. She never once said Rahul’s name, as if it was sin to do so. And I nodded agreeing to her conditions, but still curious as ever.

Despite her hand viciously holding my arm I asked her: “Kyun mamma?”

She opened her mouth and closed it, repeating the action a few times before she sighed and let go of my arm, bruises already forming on my skin. She leaned down and faced me and in a whisper she said something that was as unforgettable as her face that day, she told me that Rahul, the kid next door that I grew up with, kissed a boy.

And at that time, in that moment, on that day I didn’t understand what she meant or why it was such a big deal. But for the first time in my life that house no longer felt like home.

The next day I found out that Rahul and his family had moved away.

Back then I thought that I would never see Rahul again, but boy was I wrong about that.

#desi lgbt fest #desi #desi tag #desiblr #writblr #orginal writing #30 day writing challenge #queer #lgbtq #gay #oc #writing #mandy blabbels #spare me i havent written in months #the punctuation on this is garbage

3 notes · View notes

teaah-art · 11 months

Text

Desi LGBT Fest 2023 (hosted by @desi-lgbt-fest)

Day 4 : Ten Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

Pls don't cancel me. Also meet Malti, my alter ego that can rap (better than me).

P.S.: Sorry I'm late. And again, pls don't cancel me 🙏

#desilgbtfest23 #desi lgbt #desi lgbtq fest #long post #original art #my art #once again #pls don't cancel me im a very small art blog in the grand scheme of things

178 notes · View notes

indian-kahani · 11 months

Text

Day 12: The First in my Family to:

Tagging: @desi-lgbt-fest, @desi-yearning @morally-gayy @manujanolavu - someone suggested me to do a taglist, and these are just the people that have interacted most with my writing so yeah! if you want to be tagged/removed from the taglist then no worries, just dm me :]

You know, Amma, same-sex marriage was legalised yesterday.

(Although, since your daughter is one of those, I’m sure you know that already)

I can imagine your reaction, Amma. I think you set down your teacup with a deep sigh, and left it to get cold on the sidetable. I can imagine your thought that now I am free to shame the family name even more.

I can imagine Appa slamming his hand on the table and muttering that his daughter was ruined by the internet. I can imagine him commenting on a hate-spreading news story, The Immorals are Free to Marry. I can imagine him storming about the house, tight-lipped, hating what his daughter has always been.

I am the first person to become a doctor in this family, Amma. I am the first person to walk across a stage a student, and walk off of it a doctor.

But, you know what?

I am the first person to be lesbian and out, proud to show the world who I love. I am the first person to hold my lovers hand and walk up the two hundred steps of Jejuri with her, equals through this as through everything else. I am the first person in this family to marry a girl, and sit together on our wedding day, trying to find each others’ names in our mehendi. I am the first person in this family to wear a matching sari to my wife on our engagement day.

Isn’t love more important than money? Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? Does that only apply to me when there is a boy leading me around the wedding fire?

I know you don’t hate me, Amma. Hate the sin, but love the sinner, right?

Well, guess what, Amma?

I am the first person in my family who is ready to stand at the top of Mount Kailash itself, and scream to the world that yes, I am gay. Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I have a wife.

I am the first person in my family to be a woman, and yet kiss one on the lips with passion, unafraid of who we are as long as we are together.

I am the first person in my family to look her parents in the eye and choose my wife over them.

And I am not a sin.

I wanted to write something really badly, but nothing was really flowing so this is quite similar to one of my earlier prompts (day 9, I think it was?) hope you enjoy anyway <3

#indian-kahani #avani writes #desi lgbt+ fest #indian kahani #lgbtq+#desi teen #desiblr #lgbt #lgbt+#lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+#same sex marriage in india #same sex marriage #lesbian #gay #wlw ig?

50 notes · View notes

desi-lgbt-fest · 2 years

Text

Desi LGBT Fest 2022 Day 28: Fave memory with a Tumblr mutual

Staying up late (all thanks to different time zones we live in) and sharing songs.

Thanks to Tumblr, I have found people with to share playlists with, to share dumb jokes with. I know one is still laughing about my Julius Ceaser joke and another about me almost burning down the kitchen at home 🤣

Credits to @genderfluidrobot for this edit.

#submission #desi lgbt fest 2022 #pride #lgbtq

1 note · View note

shankhachil · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,612 times in 2022

277 posts created (17%)

1,335 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@identitycrisis-electricboogaloo

@starcloud-nova

@zindagi-toh-bewafa-hai

@peevesiehasasideblog

I tagged 1,039 of my posts in 2022

Only 36% of my posts had no tags

#hagupost - 164 posts

#important - 70 posts

#kala bibhag - 66 posts

#me speaking - 55 posts

#top shelf - 38 posts

#omg - 12 posts

#lmao - 10 posts

#heartstopper - 10 posts

#banglar bhalobashaye - 10 posts

#inventory - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#anyway one of them randomly sent a message in our gc like “it's called footccer” and not having context it took me like. half an hour to

My Top Posts in 2022:

It’s not gay if a dog is there na?

13 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

homodbodhan

An article, somewhat. For day 11 of the Desi LGBT Fest 2022, prompt: “The first time you heard ‘gay’”.

Skipping the fine details, I will say here that I discovered at thirteen that straight porn did absolutely nothing, and gay porn did everything for me.

Seventh grade, though, had brought my first crush, Who was a girl, and also my best friend. This made things difficult.

Fast-forward two more years to now. I discovered that I am demiromantic and homosexual. More labels.

So, back again to the first time I heard the word “gay”. The first time I experienced the word “gay”. The time I came out as bisexual. The eleventh of June, 2022, as I write this post.

If any of these had not happened, I wouldn’t know who I am or where I am as accurately and clearly as I know now.

Thank you, then, to Revathi Suresh, the Supreme Court, my friend M, and you all. As all the stars say — wouldn’t be here without you.

***

@desi-lgbt-fest

19 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

I am SOOO jealous of the economics students in my grade rn they only have two papers in group II and the rest of the science students and I have to write four because SOMEONE in CISCE decided that physics chemistry and biology are three papers of one subject

24 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

BYE I JUST FOUND OUT THE INFINITE NOISE IS BASED ON A PODCAST HELLO GIRL THIS IS ALL I’M GOING TO LISTEN TO FOR THE NEXT 5 YEARS

36 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

চিঠি (Letter)

A letter in Bangla, followed by its translation in English. For Day 7 of the Desi LGBT Fest 2022.

০৭/০৬/২০২২ কলকাতা

হয়তো, যখন অবশেষে তুমি এই চিঠি খুলবে, তখন তোমার জীবন পুরো দমে চালু হয়ে গিয়ে থাকবে। হয়তো তুমি জোরটা পেয়েছ তোমার গল্পগুলো পৃথিবীকে খুলে দেখাতে পেরেছ; হয়তো তোমার মনের মধ্যে জাদুর, প্রেমের, আশার দুনিয়াগুলো কাগজের উপর, বা সাদা ডকিউমেন্টে প্রকাশ করেছ। বা, হয়তো, তুমি এই কলেজে ঢুকেছ, কে জানে, আই.আই.টি. দিল্লী যেমন তুমি চেয়েছিলে, বা ইয়েল, বিশ্বের ওই প্রান্তরে, আঠারো বছর পরে মা-বাবার থেকে ৮০০০ কিলোমিটার দূরে। তুমি কী পড়ছ? অথবা কী পড়েছ? অঙ্ক? নাকি ভাষাতত্ত্ব; একা একটা স্বপ্ন দেখে পরিবারের কথা না শুনে বেরিয়ে গেছ?

তুমি প্রচুর বাধার সাথে মুখামুখি হয়েছ। আরও বাধা আসবে; তা ছারা জীবনই বৃথা। তবে তুমি পারবে। আমার দৃঢ় বিশ্বাস তুমি পারবে। তুমি এতো কিছু ঝেলেছ − আমি জানি। আমি জানি যে তুমি ক্লান্ত হয়েছ, হচ্ছ, হবে। কিন্তু তোমাকে চলতেই হবে।

২০১৮। ৩৭৭ ধারা অসাংবিধানিক শাসিত হয়েছে। তুমি কাগজের উপরে বড়-বড় করে দেখছ লেখা আছে একটা ইংরেজি শব্দ − গে, গে, গে। এ কী জিনিস, তুমি ভাবছ। ইন্টারনেটে কোনও বাধা নেই। এই দেখো গে মানে কী − আর এবার তুমি ভাবতে শুরু করো, আমি গে নাকি? এভাবেই তুমি নিজেকে নিয়ে অনেক কিছু শিখেছ, আর এভাবেই, ভেবে-ভেবে, তুমি বোঝো, আমি সন্দেহ ছারা গে।

আর আস্তে, আস্তে, তুমি এটাও বোঝো যে পাশে বন্ধু ছারা, এই যুদ্ধ জেতা যাবেনা।

তুমি আমার থেকে বয়সে বড়। তোমার নিশ্চয়ই বুদ্ধি বেশি, অনেক কিছু দেখেছ, কতজনকে চেনো এবং আলাপ করেছ তা তো অসঙ্খ্য। কিন্তু − তাদেরকে ভুলোনা যারা তোমার জীবনের সবচেয়ে কষ্টের মুহূর্তে তোমার পাশে ছিল। ওই তিনটে বন্ধু − হ্যাঁ, ওরা − ওদেরকে ছেরোনা। আমি জানিনা, সম্ভাবত তোমরা আর কথা বলোনা। তবুও ভুলে যেওনা। আর এটাও ভুলে যেওনা যে তুমি আলাদা। সারা পৃথিবী তোমাকে সন্দেহজনক মনে করে। তোমার আত্মিক পূর্বপুরুষরা তোমার অধিকারের জন্যে লড়েছে। তুমি ভারতীয়; তুমি সমকামী। তোমার নিজের আত্মা স্মৃতি ভর্তি। তুমি এই ধর্ম-পাগল দেশে বেঁচেছ, যদিও কখনও মনে হয়েছে তোমার নিঃশ্বাস যেন যে কোনও সময় বন্ধ ��য়ে যাবে, কারণ চারই দিক, না, ছয় দিক, সামনে-পিছনে-ডান-বাম-উপর-নিচে থেকে তোমার দেশ তোমার শ্বাসরোধ করছে। তবুও, যদি তুমি এই চিঠি পড়ছ, তুমি আশা রেখেছ। নিজেকে দুর্বল মনে করোনা। তোমার পুরো জীবন তোমার সামনে আছে। শক্তি রাখো। তোমার যৌবনকাল প্রমান করে যে তোমার আছে।

ছেলেরা আসবে, যাবে, থাকবে, চলে যাবে। তুমি পড়েছ তো। নইলে এতোগুলো প্রেমের উপন্যাস পড়ার কী মানে ছিল? একটু তো সত্যতা আছে প্রত্যেকটি গল্পে। আমি আবার বলব: আমি জানিনা। কী জানি, হয়তো তোমার আছে একজন। একটা অসাধারণ ছেলে। রোজ দেখো তাকে, রোজ ভাবো তুমি ওর মতো একটা মানুষের যোগ্য হলে কিভাবে। আর ও যদি তোমাকে একই ভাবে আদর করে, এটা নিয়ে নিশ্চিন্ত হও যে ও তোমাকে এভাবেই দেখে।

জানিনা, এই পত্র যখন খুলবে, তখন তুমি তোমার স্বপ্নের মতো বেঁচে উঠতে পেরেছ কি না। যাই হক না কেন − উঠে আসো; দাঁড়াও; বেরোও। অনেকজন তোমায় ভালোবাসে। তুমি কখনও একা থাকবেনা।

তোমার অপেক্ষা করা হচ্ছে। তুমি কিসের অপেক্ষা করছ?

− ইতি, অনেক বছর আগেকার তুমি

***

07/06/2022 Kolkata

Maybe, when you finally open this letter, your life will have started for real. Maybe you’ve found the courage to openly show the world your stories; maybe you’ve expressed the worlds of magic, love, hope in your mind on paper, or blank documents. Or, maybe, you’ve just entered college, who knows, IIT Delhi like you always wanted, or Yale, on the other side of the world, 8000 kilometers away from Ma and Baba after eighteen years. What are you studying? Or, what have you studied? Maths? Or linguistics; alone, following a dream, ignoring your family’s advice, have you set off?

You’ve faced many difficulties. More will come; life is pointless without them. But you can do it. I daresay you can do it. You’ve dealt with so much — I know. I know you were, are, will be tired. But you have to go on.

2018. Section 377 has just been ruled unconstitutional. You see one English word written in big letters in the headlines — gay, gay, gay. The Internet has no limits. Look, this is what gay means — and now you begin to wonder, am I gay? You’ve learnt so much about yourself this way, and just so, having thought much, you realize, I am, without doubt, gay.

And, slowly, you realize this too: that without friends, this war cannot be won.

You’re older than me. You’re definitely smarter, you’ve seen so much, and you know countless people and have met infinitely many. But — don’t forget those who were beside you in your life’s worst moments. Those three friends — yes, them — don’t leave them. I don’t know, maybe you don’t talk to them anymore. Still, don’t forget them. And don’t forget this, either: you’re different. The whole world suspects you. Your spiritual forefathers fought for your rights. You are Indian; you are homosexual. Your own soul is full of memories. You have survived this country of religious fanaticism, even though it has seemed, sometimes, that you will suffocate at any moment, because from all four directions, no, six, from front-back-left-right-up-down your country is choking you. If you are reading this letter, then you have kept up hope. Don’t consider yourself weak. Your whole life is in front of you. Have strength. Your youth proves that you possess it.

Boys will come, go, stay, leave. You’ve read about it. Otherwise, what was the point of all those romance novels? There’s definitely a grain of truth to every story. I will say again: I don’t know. Perhaps you already have someone. An extraordinary boy. You see him every day, and each day you think, how did you manage to deserve someone like him? And if he loves you as much as you love him, rest assured that he sees you the same way.

Who knows if, when you open this letter, you have managed to live as you always dreamt. In any case — rise; stand up; come out. You are loved by many. You will never be alone.

You are awaited — what are you waiting for?

Yours, From years in the past, you

***

@desi-lgbt-fest

53 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

2 notes · View notes