The Godrej DEI Lab hosted a workshop on writing Indian LGBTQIA+ non-fiction at the Mumbai LitLive literature fest on 7th November, 2025. The workshop was led by DEI Lab head, Parmesh Shahani, and journalists Dhrubo Jyoti, and Dhamini Ratnam, and explored themes such as finding the ‘other’ in the ‘self,’ and functioned as an introduction to queer non-fiction, with readings from a queer bookshelf, among other things.

The evening’s deliberations began with a fundamental question – what is queer non-fiction? And what does it mean to write a memoir? Our workshop leaders were well-placed to explore this in some depth. Dhrubo and Dhamini are both renowned journalists, and co-editors of an upcoming anthology of queer writing, to be published by Westland India under the Queer Directions imprint. Our own Parmesh is author of Gay Bombay (2008) and Queeristan (2020), which draws deeply from his own experiences and research to investigate India’s queer realities.

To answer the question, Parmesh discussed foundational writings by queer authors and allies in India, highlighting the mathematics genius Shakuntala Devi’s The World of Homosexuals (1977); one of the first explorations of homosexuality in India. He emphasised Devi’s ethnographic, empathetic, and loving perspective of a memoir blended with investigative storytelling, owing to her discovery of her own husband’s queer sexuality. Parmesh also explained how critiques by Kareem Khubchandani and Ulka Anjaria of his book Gay Bombay (2008) shaped his writing practice, and compelled him to think of ways to invoke “queer” writing and language.

Dhamini Ratnam, national culture editor at the Hindustan Times, explained that for her, when it comes to writing, “queer” is more than a theoretical framework. She went into some detail about Queer Directions, which is  a new publishing imprint by Godrej DEI Lab and Westland focused on LGBTQIA+ storytelling, and how these directions indicate the intersectionality of queer experiences. She asserted that since our understanding of “queer” keeps changing, the idea is to keep challenging oneself. The goal shouldn’t be to arrive at an answer, but instead to go through a process of inquiry. It’s a process that resembles the scientific method, with similar rigour and examination. But can one apply this rigour to a memoir? The key lies in answering seemingly simple questions: why do you matter? What about one’s social situation makes their words matter? She further recommended reading Less Than Gay: A Citizen’s Report on the Status of Homosexuality (1991) by AIDS Bhedbhav Virodhi Andolan (ABVA) to uncover the shift in how we understand queerness and the role of the movement.

But often, what we think of as ‘queer’ also lies in the everyday. Dhrubo Jyoti, senior editor at Hindustan Times, thinks so. For them, the beauty lies in the mundane – how you get up, how you take the bus, and how all of this influences your queerness. They referenced key texts as examples like Lihaaf by Ismat Chughtai (1942), Chocolate by Pandey Bechain Sharma ‘Urga’ (1927), My Story by Kamala Suraiyaa (1973), and Amar Katha by Binodini Dasi (1931), among others. These texts might have been written at different times, but in all of them queerness emerges subtly – and is not always declared. Dhrubo cited We Also Made History (1989) by Meenakshi Moon and Urmila Pawar as a memoir that pushes for criticality and self-reflection and imagining ‘queer’ without referring to it. Instead of explicitly referring to being queer, they asked the attendees to be on the lookout for circumstances that might not seem queer, but can be so. They also read a poem on Begumpura, the utopia envisioned by Bhakti poet-saint Ravidas where everyone can be themselves, by writer and editor Shripad Sinnakaar.

As the workshop progressed, the speakers expanded on theoretical frameworks for queer writing. Dhamini recommended reading Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick’s Epistemology of the Closet (1990), noting that writing often comes from the desire to uncover some violence or discomfort. The vocabulary of talking about queer experiences has changed over time, and documenting these changes help us understand how we arrived here. Dhrubo added their perspective: writing as a task can be challenging for those outside humanities and emphasised that it’s a process where you revisit your work and rewrite multiple times. Adding on to this thought, Parmesh spoke about writing with discipline and innovation – he shared how while writing his book, Queeristan (2020), he created an Excel sheet mapping the emotional journey the readers will feel at each chapter in his book. Amongst the speakers and the attendees, there was consensus that tackling discomfort and self-interrogation are crucial to writing as a craft. Adding to that, having accountability from self, friends, or editors is also a plus point.

When it comes to queer expression, can English be a language that can feel like one’s own? Dhrubo said that English can be a point of discomfort, yet it remains a powerful tool of expression. It provides restraints from caste-based constraints, and all loss during translation is not bad. They further cited Banu Mushtaq’s Heart Lamp (2025) as an example of translation and memoirs by trans authors like A. Revathi, Living Smile Vidya, and Dr. Aqsa Shaikh’s writing on accessing healthcare, as queer-led works that can help us understand Indian queer non-fiction better. Parmesh asserted that English is very much an Indian language and can hold space for exploring queer experiences.

Towards the end, the speakers reflected on what ‘queer joy’ means to them. Dhamini recalled early 2000s University of Delhi protests where the absence of the male gaze and the sense of community in protest marches shaped her queer joy and her identity as a feminist. Parmesh described his oscillation between hope and nihilism; acknowledging ‘queer joy’ as his compass during moments of queer despair. Drawing from anti-caste writers, Dhrubo noted that queerness lies in the hope of everyday life, it's not always extravagant, and is futuristic. 

Parmesh closed the session with a simple maxim – “Don’t just write. Write, rewrite, and sell it.”

Text by Rajeev Anand Kushwah. Rajeev is a researcher-writer interested in queer experiences, the feminist ethics of care, and masculinities.