A Cishet Woman’s Guide

A CISHET WOMAN’S GUIDE TO Desi Queer Lives

PRATIKA YASHASWI

Ok, let’s get one thing straight (pardon the pun): you could read all the books, journals and scholarly papers available in the world on queer lives in South Asia and still come away with only a sliver, not even a slice of a queer individual’s life. Even lovers can’t claim to understand one another fully. But one should not set foot in a conversation without lived experience. Where lived experience is lacking, one can pick up a book like “Mohanaswamy” and walk for a while in the shoes of a heartbroken gay man cringing under the gaze of a society he longs to fit into.

It is no longer acceptable to hold the view that members of the LGBTQ+ community must conform to heteronormative ideas of family, beauty, gender, and more. It is in fact an act of violence not to be true to oneself and the responsibility lies as much, if not more, with cis-gendered, heterosexual individuals to widen the asphyxiating strictures of a centuries old society, and make the world a safer, more welcoming space for the LGBTQ+ community. But why read about communities that lie on the margins? Why adventure in reading at all? Well, simply because we’re not that different. If you are a woman, or have ever been a child, you have struggled to be seen. If you have ever felt repressed or alone or struggled to find yourself in strife, there are few communities that know more about true courage, honesty and fighting ten battles at once. There is so much to learn from the margins, whose survival depends on fighting the good fight. And more importantly, if we are to make the world a safer space for queer communities, we have to let them enter our hearts and fiction is a time-tested route to greater empathy.

So we at SEEMA have put together a collection of writings (mostly fiction and memoir) from LGBTQ South Asia, for the average reader to dip their toes and allies to broaden their vision and understanding of queer communities. “TRYING TO GROW” — FIRDAUS KANGA It is never, ever going to be understandable or even fair, that although a novel like Trying to Grow came out in the 1990s, conversations around sexuality and disability still lack nuance three decades on. The sex lives of the disabled are all but ignored in conversations of sexuality. The semi-autobiographical tale of a young boy called Brit, in a family full of anglophiles, with brittle bones and plenty of intelligence, mischeivousness and chutzpah is a narrative that was way ahead of its times. Kanga is one of a kind, perhaps the first, to explore sexuality and disability with as much tenderness and beauty as it was done in his debut novel. The book was later turned into a film Sixth Happiness in which Kanga himself starred.

“FEMME IN PUBLIC” — ALOK VAID-MENON If you want to read a recent work by Texasraised transfeminine wonder Alok VaidMenon, you should read “Beyond the Gender Binary,” which helps us truly see, experience, and understand the vastness of gender and sexuality in full colour. But the true magic of their genius with words possibly comes through best in their 2017 poetry chapbook, “Femme In Public.” Vaid-Menon are artist, poet, performer, writer and more but resist any and every form of classification. True fluidity. They have a delightful way with words, they swim on the page and the only way to consume the literature is to absorb it. Scarce is the reader who would close the book without being fundamentally changed. “SECRET WRITINGS OF HOSHANG MERCHANT” —

HOSHANG MERCHANT

Hoshang Merchant, an illustrious, well-educated Zoroastrian man, edited “Yaraana: Gay Writing from India” in 1999, possibly as the first openly queer writer in India. And after cracking open the door for other queer literature, he went on to produce prolifically and provocatively. As an example: the blurb to his 2009 book, “Forbidden Sex, Forbidden Texts: New India’s Gay Poets” reads: “….there are as many reasons for being gay as there are gays. Some people are born gay, some have gayness thrust upon them, and some do, indeed, achieve to great gayness.“ There’s a playfulness to Merchant’s way with words and vibrant outlook on life. What better way to enter the world of desi LGBTQ lit than through his book, “Secret Writings of Hoshang Merchant”?

“MARRIAGE OF A THOUSAND LIES” — SJ SINDU Sometimes families are so embarrassed by the genders, identities, and sexualities of their children that they insist upon lavender marriages: where marital unions are solemnized to cover up the partners’ stigmatized sexualities. In Sri Lankan novelist SJ Sindu’s “Marriage of a Thousand Lies,” such a union takes place between Lucky and her husband, Krishna, who are both from conservative Sri Lankan-American families. They present the illusion of marital bliss, while each dates on the side. When Lucky has to make a trip back to Sri Lanka, she runs into her first love. And the rest is fine storytelling covering swathes of territory: race, love, loss and of course, the idiosyncrasies of brown families.

“LIHAAF” — ISMAT CHUGHTAI It is hard to find a list of queer brown literature that doesn’t mention “Lihaaf”: perhaps not the first, but the most controversial short story told during its time. Till date, the tale of a frustrated marriage between a begum and her much older husband, a nawab, told through the perspective of a child, remains one of Chughtai’s most enduring work. It has been the inspiration, if not the basis of several films. However there are only the subtlest allusions to gay and lesbian relationships but bold references to sex, which was bad enough for conservative pre-partition society. The storytelling is as masterful as one can expect from Chughtai but the tale does not read well in today’s day and age because of its portrayal of a child narrator who might or might not be considered to be sexually abused in some way. Read it and make your own conclusions, or try Tedhi Lakeer, an expansive, powerful story of women finding themselves in the era of the purdah. “THE TRUTH ABOUT ME” — REVATHI Somehow it’s easier for heteronormative individuals to digest the idea of a man who loves men or a woman who loves women but most unfortunately and unfairly, by and large, people who are not understood are not treated well in South Asian society. To be a transgendered woman occupying space in a world as elitist as Indian Writing in English, is a profoundly important step forward in taking the conversation ahead, to a more empathetic, and vulnerably honest place. The most powerfully cathartic forms of storytelling is confessional. The truth is, too, a story, and A. Revathi tells the powerful story about her life as a hijra or eunuch in Tamil Nadu, fighting ridicule, persecution and violence both within her home and outside to find a life of dignity and finally, love.

“WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE” — SAMRA HABIB Ahmadiyya, queer, refugee, woman. What challenges could the Lord if there is one, spare a woman like Samra Habib, who, according to the book jacket, braved bullies, racism, the threat of poverty, and an arranged marriage in Canada. Intended as “…a rallying cry for anyone who has ever felt out of place and a testament to the power of fearlessly inhabiting one’s truest self,” “We Have Always Been Here” promises to be a nourishing, soulful read. Every woman has endured the challenges of being trapped in the vice-like grip of patriarchy, upheld by men and some women, both. Samra Habib’s novel is about one woman finding herself, fighting and surviving sometimes unspeakable cruelty. And who knows, following along with her “adventures,” you might find yourself too.

“THE CARPET WEAVER” — NEMAT SADAT Spanning several decades and a few countries, Nemat Sadat’s novel is sweeping. Beginning in Afghanistan and reaching the United States with a pit stop in a Pakistani internment camp, the hero in “The Carpet Weaver” is Kanishka Nurzada, who falls in love at sixteen in a country where the punishment for being homosexual is death. He journeys across continents in the hope of finding love, and possibly being reunited with his first lover and friend, Maihan. But, as with any story, true or made up, fate has different plans. And in “The Carpet Weaver,” there is plenty of pain, pleasure, fantastic storytelling and of course, goosebumps. This tale is masterfully told by novelist, journalist, and activist Nemat Sadat, who is also one of the first Afghans to come out openly as gay.

ANY ROUNDUP OF LITERATURE FROM THE LGBTQ COMMUNITY IN SOUTH ASIA WOULD BE INCOMPLETE WITHOUT COVERING ITS REGIONAL PATHBREAKERS.

HERE ARE A FEW GEMS FROM AROUND SOUTH ASIA THAT LIE FAR AWAY FROM THE METROPOLISES:

1. “Chocolate” (1924) by Ugra/Pandey Bechan Sharma — Hindi/Urdu Arguably the first of its kind in modern India, a daring short story written in Hindustani, an amalgam of Hindi and Urdu.

2. “Prateeksha” / “Waiting” (1962) by Rajendra Yadav — Hindi A short lesbian love story by one of India’s finest writers in Hindi.

3. “Mitrachi Goshta” / “A Friend’s Story” (1980s) by Vijay Tendulkar — Marathi One of Maharashtra’s finest playwrights tells of a gorgeous love triangle between, well, friends in preIndependence Pune 4. “Chandana Marangal” / “Sandal Trees” (1988) by Kamala Das – Malayalam The queen of the confessional tells a breathtaking tale of lovers prised apart by class and hetero-norms.

5. Untitled story (1968) by Bhupen Khakhar – Gujarati Bhupen Khakhar was a pathbreaking, world-famous artist, and in Untitled Story – a tale of adultery and samesex love – you can tell.

6. “Punarapi” (2017) by Kavya Kadame Nagarakatte – Kannada In this debut novel, heroines Anusha and Asma find themselves at the center of a graceful exploration of love, memory, age, society, and more.