Stand up. No!

Hide yourself

Colourful soul

Painted black and white

Printer’s out of ink

But colour still lives

Rainbows in pockets

And quiet closets

Outside, people scream

And warn against

Devil’s child they call me

burn with the rest they said

But heaven created rainbows

And I am the prism.

By Raine

Raine is a queer, minority artist who (unironically) enjoys walks in the rain, reading and writing soul-baring poetry.


We’re meant to be

They said we’re not meant to be,

Our love for each other, society chose not to see,

They said our bond is unnatural,

Our togetherness is preposterous, so terribly immoral.

But you and I, we broke all bounds,

Ignored all criticisms,

Affection is all that counts,

We’re finally free of this cataclysm,

To nothing it amounts.

“You two can’t be together!”

“You both belong to the same gender!”

“What will people say? What are you trying to engender?”

“You’re a convict of god, you are his offender.”

What happened to human hearts, shouldn’t they be tender?

Society’s norms,

They make us blind,

Love comes in all forms,

And is of every kind,

Meaning in this,

Why is it so hard to find?

For my love for you,

Nothing is curative,

To you I will be true,

Your love works as an incentive.

I’d rather be bludgeoned to death,

If not in your arms,

Let anything pose a threat,

even society’s norms.

But you and I, we’re ironclad,

Even when times had gotten unimaginably bad,

We were sanguine, high hopefulness we had

We ignored society’s scepticism and accusations of being mad.

We were locked in orthodox chambers,

Where society posed as chains,

Although we were a cause of infuriation and anger,

From something we had a right on,

We chose not to refrain.

The elderly rejected us since ‘ethics’, got in the way,

On seeing us mothers kept their children, evidently away,

The youth fearing society,

had nothing to say,

They all mockingly said, “In a different direction they sway.”

But come has the day,

when personal choice,

Is given acceptance,

When people have their own voice,

And are not subjects of abhorrence.

Faltering homophobia,

A reason of our euphoria,

The end of dystopia,

the inception of utopia.

Society posed endless complexities,

Pin-pointed our peculiarities,

Insulted our individuality, accused

us of insanity,

Shunned homosexuality,

But, thankfully,

For a crime of which we’re not guilty,

We’ve finally been given amnesty.

by Shagun Sachar

Shagun Sachar, aka The Spectacled Brunette,  is a teenage writer who is passionate about social equality and is not shy to express it. She writes for her own blog,, where she slays the ignorant!


A Guide to being Brown and Gay

On Saturday night, reel in a Bollywood movie.

Watch one with not too much thought and just enough hilarity to make up for it

Do not cringe at the

Effeminate boys with obnoxious lisps,

Pink collars turned upwards.

A he? A she? Tainted red lips and a stubble.

Laugh at their oddity.

No punch lines;

Just people.

Giggle because

It feels right to.

A cacophony of laughter surrounds you

You do not want to be left out of the orchestra.

Do you?


Do not even dare to know what the word “gay” means

Until it is too late to take back everything you said.

A word to be hushed around aunties.

Let them never know the extent of your vocabulary,

Let it never be cause for them to criticise your parents.

A word to use with a smirk around your friends,

A badge of your notorious maturity,

A symbol of your rebellion, to utter such a forbidden tune

Ignore the cloud of doubt forming in your head.


Learn quick and fast that life

Is never going to be like the movies.

See, in movies, gay people are jokes – lighthearted interventions and giggle generators.

In the real world, they are rag dolls.

Blink back your tears when the same Bhaiya who promised you

That the sky was not breaking just because there was thunder

Paints two boys the shade of the storm for holding hands.

Do not ask your parents why with all the rage you can muster.

Stay silent.


Shoot dirty looks at the girl with

Short hair and holes in her face.

Echo your friend when she calls

Her a “freak”

Try not to stare at how pink her lips are.

Do not dream about kissing them.


Brown girls were not made to be entangled with another.

Melanin-rich skin was not made to be indulged by the fingertips of anyone else.

Sin is not something that runs in the blood of Indians.

Bite your lips and swallow your tongue.

Do not try to survive in a world that wasn’t made for you.

Do not convince yourself that wrong things could never feel that right.


Play back the movie.

Laugh at the jokes.

Stare at the freaks.

Do not question what you’re not supposed to.

There is no pride

In being an oddity.

By Namah Jaggi

namah jaggi.png
Namah is a sixteen-year-old from Mumbai who likes to think she’s the paragon of audacity. She enjoys ice cream, rickshaw rides in the rain and the destruction of capitalism.