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janaknandini-singh999 · 7 months

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I pronounce "wlw" as "wALLaH WALLAH" *habibi voice* and "mlm" as malmal

#desiblr #desi #desi thoughts #desi memes #desi wlw #desi mlm #queer #gay #memes

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desi-lgbt-fest · 2 years

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Something very very not politically correct in me wants very badly a gay romance between two most toxic Indian doodz. Like the misogyny that drips from them was oh shit gay panic. Very leaders of two enemy nukkad gangs falling for each other enemies to lovers style. Homoerotic bloody fights. Like you try to set yourself with his sister but end up catching feels for him and oh shit now you're in a gang war but he came to fight on a bullet and wasn't that extremely hot? You blast Punjabi fuckboy songs to irritate the other but like you're really feeling the lyrics goddamn.

It would be angry and ugly and oh god so satisfying to watch. Paused fists. Crumbling defences. Jagged edges of rage that were supposed to be blunted by perfect bollywood sweet heroine but instead meet the whetstone in form of your enemy. Double edged sword. And you cut yourself and him.

#Maybe i just go and write gay AU for Josh (2000)#desi queer #desi mlm #like... the potential....#og mod

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ad-iris · 1 year

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Karna and duryodhana from Mahabharat.... I ship them.

karna: loyal bf who struggled for the basic respect

duryodhana: I'll fight with the whole world for us to rule together

#indian #hindu mythology #mahabharat #desi culture #desi queer #desi lgbt #gay #gay mythology #mlm #lgbtq #gay gay gay gay #lowkey gay #gay mlm #desi gay #desi mlm #indian lgbt #indian literature

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sakinotfound · 2 years

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i don't want bollywood queer movies to be about coming out. i don't want them to be about the main characters explaining to their friends and families how being gay is ok and normal and how they should accept them. i simply don't want that, that's not the only things that should come to your mind when you think of a gay love story.

i want the movies to solely focus on the love between the characters, their happy moments, their said moments, the softness of it, the intimacy, emotional or sexual (without it being catered towards men who like seeing lesbian sex, i find it so fucking disgusting like that's not for you fuck off), the fights, the arguments, the break up, their hardships without it being about proving themselves and fighting for human rights. i want the hardships like they would have as a couple.

i know that coming out stories can be very validating and comforting to some but we have enough of that. i want to see the beauty and ugliness of a queer relationship without straights or fighting for equal rights being involved.

#lgbtqia+#desiblr #desi queer #sapphic #queer #desi lgbt #mlm #wlw #desi wlw #desi mlm

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voidsteffy · 2 years

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

Chandamama

చందమామ

चंदामामा

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

Prologue

She came in the night, silver anklets shining through his closed eyes that dreamt about a different life. Perhaps a string of warped reality where everyone didn't just assume what he wanted.

"Yevandi? " her voice came low, urgent syllables over the sounds of moonlight. "Yevandi..." Bangles clanked near him.

Well this wasn't a dream. Sita indeed stood hunched in front of him with pleading eyes. Bheem sprung up, only to be shushed by her. Her gaze flitted to Lacchu behind him in the open verandah— his cousin snorted in his sleep and wriggled back into deep sleep.

All his other cousins and family weren't awake, no beds creaking of the seven others he could see. His family did everything as a team: shopping? Together ; eating? Together ; Seeing a potential bride, the entire football team would march in.

"Sita gaaru," Bheem followed her beckons out to the back garden, giving into her insistent grip on his forearm. Even in a white sari that restricted her steps around the sprouting grasses, Sita's legs rushed in front of him, fluent in the language of grace.

"Please, I really need to talk to you."

When they reached a secluded spot, Bheem waited for her to stop avoiding his eyes and talk to him.

"I'm not saying this out of any spite that you're a village leader." Sita had finally started. "In fact I admire you for all that you do for your loved ones... But I think one thing built up to another this morning, I didn't really say yes to the marriage proposal."

Sita Mahalakshmi, daughter of the revered sarpanch Athreya Pani, had just sat in front of him that morning a few hours ago. She was decked in gold, her kohl-rimmed doe eyes hid everything she was probably feeling.

She hadn't spoken at all when the elders talked of their marriage. All in all, Bheem had realized he hadn't heard her voice till then.

And the first thing she said was that she didn't want to get married to him.

Bheem knew it was unfair of him to feel happiness blossoming in his chest. Especially when his recently would-have-been-but-no-more fiancée was sobbing into her knees.

"It's okay andi..." he said the only thing he could have without spilling his heart out.

His mother never loved his father. "What has love got to do with marriage na verri kanna!" she used to say. The abject result of their marriage was a child who never saw his mother be treated like a person.

"It's better you said it now. I don't feel bad."

Her wet brows peeked out from between her locked hands. "Really? What will we say to the elders?"

He kneeled down beside the pond in front of her with an understanding smile. "If you really don't want this marriage, I am not one to force. We can say I changed my mind."

"But you don't understand!" she shouted.

They immediately cringed at the noise, Sita looking around to catch anyone awake and running to them.

Silence.

Bheem watched her relax and sniffle.

"Is there any specific problem? Cheppandi, it's okay..."

"It's not something that is accepted!" she insisted.

Bheem never drew boundaries. He saw to it that he could treat people around him as tenderly as a farmer tended to a newborn calf. The calf led the way and the shepherd protected it.

"Sita gaaru," he said, "You don't have to talk to me, but looks like you've been carrying some weight inside you. I just want to help."

He knew what she was thinking. Pages of guidelines would have been flipping in her head, trying to find where such a guy had plopped down from. People in this village wanted to know nothing but where the snake had bit. Anything else was of no use to them. But Bheem was different.

He was an ally.

Slowly, her gaze opened up a new puzzle. "There was a girl..."

A/N: So.... 👉🏽👈🏽If you can't tell yet, this is based on the Telugu movie Chandamama (Kajal fans wya) and I really liked the au idea -> Rambheem and Sinny but the Chandamama way... Here's the prologue. It was a spontaneous decision, don't judge 🐠🐠 Pls don't expect frequently vomited updates: NEET is a thing unfortunately and so is writer's block. You can send suggestions and what you think about this fic to my ask box (can't promise that all the suggestions will be incorporated)

tagging moots: @rambheem-is-real @hissterical-nyaan @kalavathiii @sivuda @lostgreekgod @hahaha-darn-it @thewinchestergirl1208 @rambheemtrash @unmadana @vennilave @rasnak2 (sorry if i haven't tagged all, let me know if you want to be tagged henceforth!)

#rambheem but series #rambheem #sinny #jenny and sita #chandamama #rrr #rrr fanfic #fanfic #desi lgbtq+#desi mlm #desi wlw #desi queer #HAPPY PRIDE MONTH #chandamama by manu

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i-love-sufjan-stevens · 7 months

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Vintage Photos of Queer Couples of Color

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kaalbela · 7 months

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In the 16th century in Punjab, Shah Hussain, a Sufi poet and mystic met and fell in love with a Hindu boy called named Madho Lal. Though gay marriage was not legal anywhere in the world before this century, Hussain and Madho defied social conventions and lived together for six years till Hussain's death in 1599. Hussain's poetry is significantly inspired by his relationship with Madho, with some poems addressed directly to him. After Hussain's death Madho continued to live close to where he was buried in present day Baghbanpura in Lahore, and was buried next to Hussain after his death. They continue to lie buried side by side in the same enclosure to this day, and the enclosure is named Hazrat Madho Lal Hussain, embodying one soul living in two bodies.

The annual celebration called Mela Chiraghan or Festival of Lights is held in March in Lahore in order to celebrate the love of Madho and Hussain as well as Hussain's poetry. It is unknown how the ritual was established, but it dates as far back as the the 18th century: there are records of Maharaja Ranjit Singh leading a barefooted procession from the Fort to the mausoleum for this celebration. At present, the festival is conducted over three days and attracts large crowds. Cotton-seed oil lamps are lighted in the streets and houses of the city. Devotees sing and dance and read Hussain's poetry in order to commemorate the triumph of tolerance over forces of bigotry.