Reading Between The Lines

Facing bullying, confusion and loneliness as a young gay man in India had become a routine occurrence for him. But Vivek Tejuja found comfort in the pages of books — many of which formed the foundation of his relationships. He looks back at the literature that gave him the courage to embrace his identity.

When you are different and need to know more about who you are, what do you do? Where do you find solace and comfort? And who decides you are different? Actually, I never felt ‘different’ until the world around me started making me feel that way. Gay. Homo. Faggot. Sissy. These terms were used liberally when I would walk into my school playground, when I would eat lunch alone, when I was simply living, like any other teenager. And then I discovered one place where I felt safe — the school library. That’s where is all began.

Thankfully, my mother introduced us to books at a very early age. Five, in my case and I knew I would not be alone for a single day in my life, as long as I read. But as I became older, I learnt that there were very few books about the ‘Indian LGBTQIA scene’ so to say. Yes, there was literature around it but most of it came from outside of India.

Internet came later and with it, of course horizons widened, and we got around to reading about us — the ‘other’ placed in a culture we recognised, a place we were born and raised in — and it was the most gratifying thing to be aware and to know that there are people such as yourself in the world — to acknowledge other identities and learn to be welcoming of all, no matter what.

The first Indian LGBTQIA literature I chanced upon at that time — I think it was 1999 — was Lihaaf by Ismat Chughtai. It was one of the most monumental reads of my life — even though it spoke of two women. But knowing that she wrote it in 1942 — a time when one couldn’t imagine two people of the same sex being together, Lihaaf was an introduction like no other. The story compelled and propelled me to read more. The search began.