Identity as Inspiration

There's a lot that should technically be a setback for me, especially growing up in the turbulent times that we find ourselves. Some people would rather see me dead than see me marry a woman I love, some would prefer I leave a country that is all I've known simply because I wasn't born here, and some will do everything in their power to remind me that I don't belong.

I've found a hard time being proud of who I am, even when I'm participating in the art that I do. I'm always thinking that no matter how I perform at an audition, there's little to no chance of me being a main character because I'm brown, and who's seen a brown Lady Macbeth? Not me, unfortunately. When there are characters that are related to one another, I know I can't play them because there is no one in my theatre department that resembles me enough that we could convince an audience that we are from the same family. Even when I dance, I feel as though my attempts at anything beyond Bollywood would be frowned upon.

But lately, I've found myself disagreeing with these thoughts that past me would've wallowed in. My identities as a queer, nonbinary, immigrant of color allow me to tell stories that no one else can. So what if there aren't many plays that would represent me? I'll write them myself!

Giving actors a chance to see themselves in their characters when they usually wouldn't is a goal I've begun to hold for myself in the last year or two. I've been writing plays about large historical figures in Indian traditions, including Ashoka the Great and Rani Lakshmi Bai, both known for their bravery and genius, but not known on this side of the world, which is a shame. In both, I provide opportunities for Indian actors to have roles that are actually telling their stories rather than those of a culture they cannot connect with.

When I create artwork of human bodies, I try to find shapes that are not "traditional" and in races that we are too quick to forget. I'd begun a series of paintings of people in their underwear, existing comfortably in their own bodies. In this series, I had a bisexual nonbinary person, a trans man, a brown plus sized woman, and more. To see bodies become art is a way to appreciate what we have. As someone who has always struggled to love their body, when I painted my own, I found myself appreciating the stretch marks and scars and folds of my skin.

All of this is to say that art is a way to find the beauty in ourselves. Queerness is defiant, dark skin is gorgeous, large bodies are full of love, and there is so much to find in these identities that we hold. We can discover it in so many different ways so long as we allow ourselves to do so.