A candid interview with the man behind desi queer art

Q: Please tell us about yourself.

My internet name is Jalebi. I prefer the pronouns he/him and identify as gay. I am a 26-year old Engineer living in Karachi. I’m originally from another city in Sindh, a smaller town compared to Karachi. People come here to pursue their dreams. Since the lockdown began, I re-connected with my childhood hobby, picked up a pencil, and started drawing. This led to the idea of making digital art under the pen name, Jalebi.

Q: How was your childhood?

It is a very difficult question to answer. In many ways, I had a privileged childhood growing up in an upper-middle-class family. I had exposure to the internet, good education, and the English language. At the same time being a very flamboyant gay child wasn’t exactly easy, especially in conservative parts of Pakistan. Children who act opposite to their assigned gender are not treated very well. I did not make a lot of friends. There was bullying, molestation, and sexual harassment. I think that’s an unfortunate formative experience for many queer children. Majority of queer people I’ve spoken to have had some experience with it. And I think a large part of my teenage has been trying to erase all the bad memories and build myself up with more positive experiences.

Q: How was the process of discovering and accepting your gender identity?

As a young kid, I didn’t really think I was queer. I was attracted to women. And I thought that was totally normal. And then one day, I saw two guys kissing in my school. And I went like, “oh my god, you can do that?”. I was 12. It was at this moment in my head where I thought, wait, if you can do that, then I want to do that. So, I just sort of accidentally discovered it. And yeah, I went to an all-boys school. In school, many kids are not necessarily gay or don’t identify as queer, but they experiment with each other. And I was made part of many of these experiences involuntarily. Now, those people are completely straight and I am gay. (chuckles)

Q: It must have been immensely difficult when you’re feeling several things, but the world outside is boxing you in the gender binary. How did you navigate through those questions? Did you find support in your peers and/or parents?

For a long time as a child, I grappled with the question if I was trans because in Pakistan and also to some extent in India, there isn’t really much of a space for “somewhere in the middle”. The middle is the third gender, here. If you are a little bit not exactly in the binary of male or female, you are painted as the third gender with several colorful words given by people. I grappled with that uncertainty in a lot of spaces. For example, if I was playing a fighting game, I would always choose a female character. If I was going to a concert or a wedding, I would prefer to sit in the female section. I would always instinctively associate with the female gender, and so I had in my head that maybe I was supposed to be female, not male. But then I discovered this term homosexual. And the first thing I did was check if it’s allowed in Islam because I’m Muslim. And no, of course, there is a huge list of websites that tell you how haram it is. And this is back in 2004 when there wasn’t much of discourse or queer representation. Now there is access to social media, movies, Indian channels, OTT platforms like Netflix, all of these have more content now and relatively more exposure to the gender spectrum.

Back then, it wasn’t the case. At first, there was excessive self-flagellation for many years. I hated myself and wanted to change. I think it was when I turned 15-16, (pauses) I told my parents. It was a big step for me. When I shared with them, my mom slapped me. Totally fine. I love them. I think they’re amazing people. It’s difficult, I guess to accept that your son is queer. We’re better now, we’ve made amends and everything. But at that time my parents had a panicked experience. We sort of discussed it. They told me to not give yourself a label yet, wait for a few years and see how things are. They said I will turn out to be straight. Well surprise, I didn’t. (chuckles)

I liked how they gave me this direction to wait for some time, grow up, and make my decision. Now, it seems we’re at a place where they’ve just accepted it. Getting comfortable with my sexuality was a long-drawn process wherein which the society never really helped me in any way. This is something that I’ve had to come to terms with internally. Either I can be miserable my whole life or accept who I am and move on.

Q: I’m glad that you had that internalization and showed strength at an early stage in life. How did the idea of doing the desi queer art come up and why the name, Jalebi?

Okay, so Jalebi is not straight. (laughs). And also, it’s meetha, a common slang for gay. So that’s where the name comes from. I started doing queer art a couple of months back since the lockdown began. It started with what I see online and in my interactions with people.

It began with my deep discomfort with this common notion that queerness is a Western construct. It is a lie. People don’t realize that in South Asia, we’ve always had queerness in our culture. I wanted to convey that queerness is homegrown, just as much as it is in other countries. And I wanted to make art or something that would depict common Pakistani people in everyday situations, but also being queer, like I have experienced and seen in my life. The majority of people I’ve been with or engaged with weren’t in any form westernized, they are commonly practicing Muslims who are also queer/gay or bi or something else. I wanted some sort of representation for us being queer as Pakistanis and that’s how the idea of desi queer art germinated.

Q: How has the online response been to your work? What do people usually tell you?

I started very recently and the response has been overwhelmingly positive from both Pakistan and India. People say that they can relate to the pictures, which is also because the cultures are similar across the border. It was surprising to me because I thought I would get more hatred online, which isn’t the case. But I want to point something out here. This is also a part of my privilege because people don’t react as negatively to men. In the pictures, I usually draw men and their sexual experiences. If the same was posted by a girl, she would attract much more resentment. I’ve seen female artists receiving more hatred and harassment than male artists. Also, the fact that in my art, I depict really masculine men, which creates a buffer for the hatred. They’re like, okay, it is fine you can be a little gay if you are masculine. I am trying to draw more women, genderqueer people now.

Q: How do you navigate with your religion and gender identity?

Well, yes, to be quite honest, I think it’s not easy to be Muslim and queer. Before the colonization of the Islamic world, Islamic Society was more open to new ideas. What we are seeing now in Islamic cultures is a response to the colonial powers, the Western thoughts and the Western philosophy liberalism. Islam today has been strongly influenced by post-colonial 18th and 19th century revivalist movements, such as Deobandi, Barelvi and the Saudi-centric Salafist movement, commonly known as Wahhabi Islam. The idea that we have to go back 1500 years to practice true Islam doesn’t make sense. First of all, it erases the entire context of how those scriptures were revealed. And secondly, it raises the idea that Islam can only be what it was in the seventh century, in Arabia, that it cannot be something that exists in 2020 in Pakistan. I do not ascribe to this idea that we should go back 1500 years to follow true Islam. This is my personal perspective. I’m not implying that Islam is always progressive. But what I’m saying is that it’s okay to be queer and Muslim. There is space within Islam to explore one’s identity.

Q: As you talk about the need to embrace change and movements, there have been several activists advocating for transgender rights in Pakistan. Article 377 is still applicable in Pakistan, and then there is the Sharia law. So how has the discourse been for and by the LGBT community in the current political and socio-economic landscape of Pakistan?

As I said before, this idea that queerness is a Western concept is a myth. But in a very narrow sense, it holds some merit. In the West, being gay is unambiguously distinct from being straight. In Pakistan, it’s considered an extension of heterosexuality. Let me explain. A lot of straight men have same-sex sexual experiences in Pakistan. If you go to a hostel or an all-boys school, it’s almost expected by the parents and the society at large that those kids will have some homosexual experiences. And they accept that as one aspect of being straight. So, this straight identity in Pakistan and also to some extent in India has some space for being queer. Even with lesbian relationships, there is always space, especially in all-girls’ schools, you will see lesbian romances. And in Pakistani society that’s not anything out of the common. It’s not considered unusual or unacceptable and you don’t have to be distinctly queer to have such experiences.

So, this idea that let’s create sexuality, or let’s separate this from the heterosexual umbrella, that’s where the resistance begins. And the resistance is not so much to the act itself but the demand of people who insist that no, this is our sexuality. I’m giving this context because it’s not that black and white in my opinion. In South Asia, there is a lot of queerness everywhere. Like men hold hands, for example, a lot more often in South Asia. And it’s not read as queer.

In terms of trans rights, there is a movement. I’m happy that we have some form of trans activism. For other queer identities, I would like to see some form of discourse. But here’s what I think. Any movement for queer acceptance typically gay or bisexuals etc. will come from a feminist movement. The stronger our women are, the more likelihood of making way for other oppressed gender and sexual minorities.

Q: Is there something that you’d like to say to people out there in that age who might be struggling with their gender identity or seeking answers.

So, this may sound cliché but it really genuinely does get better. Please, please, please don’t give up on yourself wherever you see yourself in life. Because it will get better. School sucks. The school is horrible. College is horrible. University will be a little better. Your job will be infinitely better. You will make friends; you will meet people who you like who love you except you. system’s just some time that you have to unfortunately suffer but will genuinely get better your life. It gets much better than it seems right now.

The Rapid Round

Favorite Food?

Chicken Kadahi

Favorite Music

I like all music.

How do you unwind?

I unwind with just lying down in my bed and watching Netflix.

Favorite artist?

Francesco Guerra; In a contemporary sense, I really like works of Shehzil Malik.

Any literature in particular book recommendation to understand LGBTQIA discourse better?

Teedhi Lakeer by Ismat Chughtai. It was written in 1940, I think. And it’s one of the first books to have queer representation.

Vision for Jalebi?

It could sound idealistic, but I would really love the page to grow into something bigger. Right now, it’s one broke student making art. I would love for other queer people to be a part of this and make this into a queer salvation magazine, a space to create a dialogue with people of Pakistan.

Interviewed by Achalika, TARA Foundation
Achalika is a part of the TARA Foundation, primarily responsible for designing and facilitation of Gender Sensitization Workshops. Outside sessions, you’d find her with a dog, behind a book, staring at a wall (and) or laughing at a meme.