Homosexuality is seen as a sin in India. Many queers die an untimely death by committing suicide due to homophobia and lack of acceptance.
Our society is made up of families. Family is our primary institution. The conception of an heterosexual family as the only form of family comes from the rule of pariarchal forces. In this set up, women are treated as lesser than men and therefore only suitable for domestic chores. Gay men in India are treated as bodied that are lesser than men. A certain lack characterise the patriarchal perfect woman, that is the lack of a penis that makes her lesser than a man. A similar lack can be seen in the conception of men. Homosexuality in women is often dismissed by men because of the institutional infantalisation of women. In order to challenge this normativity, it is important that we recognise alternate possibilities of families being true. So to understand homophobia in educational spaces, it is imperative to understand where it emanates from.
Coming out is a recent phenomena in India. People are especially coming out of their ” closets” as it is popularly described, after the scrapping of the Victorian Section 377.
The Section 377 was actually imposed to control the sexual behaviours of the Company officials.
Its aim was to “protect” soldiers and colonial administrators from “corruption” out of a fear that these men sent far from home (and their wives) would turn to homosexuality, according to British Colonialism and the Criminalization of Homosexuality, a book by Enze Han and Joseph O’Mahoney.
Even after the regressive section was declared null and void, a certain regressive bent of mind still prevents parents ( even urban, educated) to accept their family members as queer. Not accepting queer people is a new idea if we go through the pages of history of the subcontinent.
If we study ancient texts talking about figures that can change their gender, Kamasutra giving positions for amorous activities for homosexual partners, to the medieval texts wherein Sufi saints assume themselves to be women, we get evidences of homosexuality being an important part of our cultural life. The Khajuraho temple sculptures depict love-making in its varied forms including homosexuality. It is therefore baseless to scream “aprakritik” and “desh ki sanskriti ke khilaaf” when it comes to giving equal rights to the queer community with
love and acceptance.
It is important that we are able to question what our British Colonial “Masters” wanted us to believe through the imposition of laws such as Section 377, and return back to the culture of acceptance of various sexualities and genders that are enshrined in our ancient texts. Also, it is important to note that the British themselves legalised homosexuality back in 1967 through the Sexual Offences Act 1967 but India has to wait till 2018 to undo the harm our colonial rulers did to our socio-cultural fabric.

Samik Chakraborty

Yashvardhan Shukla :
One of the India’s youngest novelist, Yashvardhan Shukla is a BSc. (H) Physics second year student at Sri Venkateswara College. A fictional tale of Gods and monsters, his first book ‘Gods of Antarctica’ got published when he was just 13 years old. His second book ‘A Space Odyssey’, a sequel to the previous one, was published a year after that. He is currently working on his third novel. He was born in Allahabad, U.P. on 24 November, 2000. He lives in Delhi with his parents Colonel V N Shukla and Dr. Archana Shukla. He says that mythology has always inspired him and he loves reading mythological work and that encouraged him to take up Mythology as a genre for his novels. He has always been into creative work, be it drawing cartoons or comic strips and that creative instinct in him along with the encouragement from his friends helped him discover writing as his passion and he began working on his first novel when he was just 11 years old!

Yashvardhan Shukla loves to be in touch with other authors as well, of his age or older and continues to be an inspiration to all the young budding writers. Getting his book published at such a young age, Yashvardhan Shukla says that he is proud that he was able to take his potential to a level where most of the people fear and doubt ,he cherishes the amount of confidence he developed with continued support from his parents and friends. He believes that a plus point of having a book published at a young age is that not only you get respected but also you get to socialize and explore more.
He faced a number of difficulties while working on the book because as a student, it became difficult to strike a balance between studies and writing. But his constant intrinsic motivation helped him overcome the obstacles. He says, “Writing a book is like running a marathon, you have to keep going with a belief that it will get over and you will feel good.”
Besides writing,Shukla loves to play keyboard and had been a member at the school choir group. He is also into the digital world where he likes photo and video editing. He is also a sports enthusiast. An active participant in quizzes,he is the Outreach Coordinator of Sri Venkateswara College’s quiz society- ‘Conquiztadors’.
He says that friendship is an integral part of his life because he thinks that writing is a lonely job and having friends around who read your work and offer encouragement is motivational. He further says that most of his characters are centered around his friends. An active member on social media,he believes that social media provides a platform for authors to gain readership and be in touch with their readers and he believes strongly that writing opens a lot of opportunities in various fields apart from literature. Talking about career choices, he says that he is going with the flow of life and isn’t sure if he wants to be a full-time writer, currently keeping it as a hobby.
His advice to the aspiring writers is to keep writing and never stop, no matter what. He believes that reading goes hand in hand with writing and one should never give up on reading habit.

Prerna Joshi

Petrichor – A souvenir of the first spell of rain.
Sometimes a letter to myself and other times, a letter to the world. It is the love letter to wake the skies or lullaby to the wind in my ears; Petrichor for me, is a sanctuary where I row the boat of my mind in the direction of the free wind and all it lets in is a subtle touch, a nudge into every tavern I can fathom, until finally I wind up back again at the doorstep of my haven, Petrichor.
Petrichor is not merely a society, it is a treehouse fixed on top of this big, deep-rooted tree where I find enough space, dysfunctional at times, crazy bud and plants alike; playing with words who describe themselves as “rude”, “arcane” and whatnot. Almost like a jungle gym of a bunch of kids who love putting their hearts out, and isn’t that what unites them? Indeed,it does and that is Petrichor for me. A sky full of stars, a field full of grass and a page full of ink,brimming all the time.

Chhavi Mahaur

आओ इन 5 सालों को 5 लफ्जों में जोड़ दूँ !!

जो रखा था छुपा कर अब-तक, सब-कुछ तुम से बोल दूँ ,
आओ इन 5 सालों को 5 लफ्जों में जोड़ दूँ ।।

कि ना होता वो इत्तेफाक, तो तुम मिले ही ना होते ,
पर क्या है न हुजूर,
इतने खूबसूरत इत्तेफाक, इत्तेफाक से नहीं होते !
कि दो अनजान अजनबी कब अपने से होने लगे ?
साथ मिलकर यादों की लंबी डोरियाँ पिरोने लगे,
कि तेरी वो बक-बक अब भी याद आती है ,
जाते-जाते लबों पे छोटी सी मुस्कान दे जाती है ।
उसके एक कंप्लीमेंट में भाई साहब पूरे दिल से मैं हारा था ,
आदत बन गई थी वह मेरी
और अब इस नौका का, फेसबुक ही एक सहारा था ।

दिल तो चाहता है अभी वह वक्त रोक दूँ ,
दिल तो चाहता है …..अभी वह वक्त रोक दूँ
इन बीते 5 सालों को बस 5 लफ्जों में जोड़ दूँ ।।

भले ही इस दिन पर सूरज अपनी मर्जी से निकला था, चांद अपनी मर्जी से चमका था ,
लेकिन मेरी जिंदगी का उजाला तो बस उसके उस कन्फेशन में समता था ,
हांँ याद है मुझे, कैसे हमने साथ में सब कॉन्फेस किया था ,
उस शरारत भरे पल को साथ में मिलकर जिया था ।

एक बार फिर कयामत एक साथ हुई ,
दो अनजान मुसाफिर की दुबारा मुलाकात हुई ,
तितलियां तो बहुत थी , पर अंदर एक्साइटमेंट भी सरताज ना थी ,
क्योंकि यह मुलाकात बस कॉल या व्हाट्सएप की मोहताज ना थी ।

लेट था मैं उस दिन, फिर भी अपने रौब पर मलाल था ,
हाय…..पिघलता क्यौं ना मैं ,
जब पहना उसने लाल था ।

मेरी नजर ….मेरी नजर शायद पक्का उसे लग ही जाती ,
अगर उस दिन आंखों में वो काजल ना लगाती ,
कभी आंखो के कोने से शर्माती ,
रूठ जाने पर खूब मनाती ,
उस एक मुस्कुराहट पर मेरी सारी दुनिया समाती ।

दूर था तो बेकरार था,
पास होकर यह प्यार बेशुमार था,
बातें तो बहुत करनी थी उससे,
बातें…. तो बहुत करनी थी उससे ,
पर उन्हें तो मूवी का भूत सवार था

मीठी यादों की हवा थोड़ी तुम्हारी तरफ भी मोड़ दूँ ,
मीठी यादों की हवा……थोड़ी तुम्हारी तरफ भी मोड़ दूँ ,

आओ इन 5 सालों को 5 लफ्जों में जोड़ दूँ ।।

साथ बिताए उन कुछ घंटो में सब गम भुला दिए,
मुझ पर वो खूब हँसी…
मुझ पर…. वो खूब हँसी…
जब सीट पर फ्रेंचफ्राइज मैने गिरा दिए ।।।।

Rajdeep Pandey

Sitting in the back of a cab with a split open heart
You look for a tiny dot in the starlit sky
But it’s quite hard to focus with tear-filled eyes, isn’t it?
You make homes out of people, not places
But all that remains of them now are a few songs and starred messages that you keep rereading because you need to feel something, anything.
Those college halls have been witness to the laughter that used to spill out of you like water from an overflowing cup
But now it’s all silent and they seem emptier somehow.
The canteen dosa you used to love has lost its flavour
And you try not to linger in the busy lovers’ lane for a picture, or a cup of chai.
People say it’s tough to say goodbye
But you, you know that’s not true.
Saying goodbye was as easy as popping a pimple that had been bothering you for a week
You hated it and how it made you look and now your face is bloody, but at least it’s gone, and you are relieved.
But the scar it leaves behind is what haunts you now, and you begin to wonder if you should’ve just let it be
But it’s too late for that now.
So you put on some concealer and go about your day
But you still get the urge to scratch the surface anyway
Saying goodbye was the easiest part
It’s what came after that’s breaking your heart.
You search for welcoming smiles in a maddening crowd
Knowing that the storm is coming doesn’t make the thunder less loud
You’re losing your way because you refuse to see, you’re still hung up on the way she made you believe.
She reminded you of a sweet summer day peppered with rain and her absence is like standing outside in an endless shower
But you let it consume you because she hated the water and maybe drowning is better than the heartbreak that brought her.
The ring she gave you seems stuck on your finger and it chokes you a little bit so you put it inside, never to wear again.
Then there’s the photographs you know would look great on your instagram feed, but it’s too late to put them up now
The smiles captured in them have withered away
The people have lost the love frozen in it.
And now there’s a folder in your phone that you label as ‘X’ and put at the bottom of the list because it hurts too much to look at every moment that made you happier than you’ve ever been
Four months of pure joy and now, nothing.
And loneliness hits you like a ton of bricks at 4 am when you realise you haven’t talked to a friend in days
The people you now hang out with are probably not interested in you
You’ve been living in a distraction
And it was bound to wear off soon.
You’ve started feeling like a stranger in other familiar places now and it’s terrifying because that is how it started the first time and you just can’t lose another home, not again, not so soon.
But you still look for different places to spend the night and it’s peaceful but you know you don’t belong, it’s not yours
You know it isn’t, but you go anyway
A tired traveller will take whatever shelter they can find.
Some nights a concert, some nights a play
And some days the earphones you share with the new guy just to feel okay
But then he too, gets up to leave and the weight on your shoulders is so heavy
You try to hold on because you’re just not ready, but now you know that it’s far too easy to leave.
And now you start to miss the boy with the bright flowers who used to smile at you through the screen
Who showed you oceans and castles and stars and reminded you of the greatness of the universe
Who told you it would all be okay one day and you believed him because you were so in love.
Now you just miss the way he made you feel alive.
You start to dream of him again and you can’t take it because you keep losing people and the pain is too much this time.
So you go back home and you write stories about a girl with bright eyes who could never stop laughing or loving or living, hoping some of that happiness will bleed through the pages and mix with the blood in your veins.
You just want to feel again.

Alisha Mehndiratta

निगाहों से निहार कर दिल में उतार कर करते हैं,

मुहब्बत जनाब बांहों में बाहें डाल कर करते हैं…

पहले कभी होता होगा बेहिसाब, बेपनाह, बेग़र्ज़, 

आज कल तो इश्क़ भी सब सम्भाल कर करते हैं…

बातों ही बातों में फ़िर किसी से नज़दीक न हो जाएँ,

इस खौफ़ में हम बातें भी देखभाल कर करते हैं…

उसे देख मंद-मंद मुस्काने से नहीं होता जनाब

,इज़हार-ए-मुहब्बत आवाज़ निकाल कर करते हैं…

कोई भी ताल्लुक़ बेनुख़्स नहीं होता निशब्द,

उसको क़ामयाब ख़ुद को उसमे ढ़ाल कर करते हैं…     

– Ayush ‘निशब्द’

I see a world broken and weary,
I see lives being shattered and dreary.
I see terror and fright in their eyes,
I see shimmering hope that never dies.
I see a revival of hidden voices,
Unafraid to shout out their choices.
I see a world trying to fix itself in pieces,
Holding on to solitary battles that never cease

Eleena Mathew