Queer
Anahita Sarabhai verse by verse deliveries the plight of the queer existence in a growing ignorant world.
My queer self has been
mislabelled
Miss taken
for many things
since birth
She
has been assumed
Straight
Away
to be the same
perfectly. Same.
My queer body has tried on
every size
has grown too far
to fit any
narrow
mind
Has been cloaked
in lies woven into
the very fabric
of history,
of your imaginations
for me
My queer tongue
has spelt out words
incorrectly
for my self
for my safety
for your comfort.
Has been held
to not displace
your sense of security.
Your privilege.
My queer feet
have danced in shoes
placed before me
that would not fit,
could not be my own.
Have tried to hide
the scars of my journey
that only begin there,
curling upwards in embrace
tracing each
story
over razor’s edge
till the million blades
of my hair.
My queer soul has raged
screaming
within the walls of my body
A form
inherited at birth.
It has longed
for escape
Banging against the insides
It has torn
away at the fiction
of my changing
realities.
My queer heart
Has been broken
Rebuilt
Broken
Rebuilt, endlessly
by many hands
In the search for a truth
I am creating
Every day, re inventing
My queer ness
has become
and is done
with
You
Anahita Sarabhai is a solid 90’s kid. Born dancer, animal lover/activist, feminist kill joy, moon obsessed. Teaching teens how to get their shit together and be genuinely good human beings, usually through Theatre and English Lit. Trying to turn the tides of a non-existent queer scene in Ahmedabad, Gujarat. Currently reading Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus and doing some mental prep this year as I return to my writing and performance work.
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