Poem: Give Me A Story

Posted By: Anureet Watta
I do not know much about representation,
but i know having to divulge into the depths of the internet,
to find a movie that resembles the way,
I have come to love.
What I’m saying is
I’ve been in love with this girl, like forever,
And here,
but I still have to look a thousand miles to the west to see this as love and not defiance.
Give me a story where I do not have to bargain my brown-ness for queerness,
a movie that speaks my tongue,
that realises I’m here, have always been,
that knows,
you can not scrub off the rainbows on tombstones,
but you can acknowledge why they fill so many graves.
Give me a story where this struggle isn’t reduced to tokenism,
where effeminate body language isn’t a character trait but an identity,
that hasn’t been reduced to the joke, to the punchline,
where this identity cannot be camouflaged behind doubt,
cannot be unseen,
anymore.
Give me a story where this identity isn’t the plot device, but the plot,
because when this isn’t about survival,
it’s about giggling,
and hand holding,
and two brides wearing red without having to bleed,
and transcending across the lines of urban and rural,
and English and Bengali and Malayalam ,
and tribes and castes and regions and states,
and still being erased, conformed to the binary this heteronormativity.
2019-01-22 08.34.03 1.jpg
Credit: Aayushya Ranjan
Give me a movie where I do not have to bargain my queerness for my browness,
a story that will not make us choose,
because we’ve always been both,
and I’ll wait
I will wait for a movie,
where the brown boy will walk out of the closet
and the universe will wait for him to be who he really is,
I will wait for a movie,
in which you will learn why drag is as much protest as poetry,
I will wait for a movie
Where we will not have to die,
To make a point.

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