I started writing this blog post when I read that some works of Riyad Vinci Wadia were going to be screened at BQFF. The name was familiar because of the fascination I’d experienced when I came across mentions of Aida Banaji in online writings, and as is characteristic of me, I went off on a google-ing spree. As I read up about her, I came across mentions of Riyad’s short film on her, and I really wanted to watch it. It wasn’t available online anywhere, but as luck would have it, it’s one of his works I’ll be watching this Sunday.
But meanwhile, Riyad caught my imagination right after, and I set off on a surfing spree yet again (something that, ironically, gets me get through many a workday). One of the web-results pointed me to a touching essay about his life, written by his brother, Roy (who will also be dropping in on Sunday at BQFF)! As I read the essay, it all sounded too familiar. It’s as if I’d read all of it before, and in all probability, I probably have. But from what I could recall, I’d read about it in a totally different context… in which Riyad was the protagonist, but an unnamed one or a pseudonym-ed one in the least. All the events described by Roy were identical, though. Of his travels, his work and his all too short life. I racked my brain to try and recall where I could’ve read that story. It was heavier on elements of how others perceived him… friends… the women in his life, rather than a first-person perspective that Roy was relating.
Since I’ve read few LGBT novels “Quarantine” (which was all about gay ABCD’s), “Pink Sheep” (which seemed to be confined to Bangalore and its boundaries) and “Drama Queen” (which is more like a gay man’s guide than a book of short stories), this mythical story that I was talking about didn’t seem to belong to any of them. I began to wonder if it even existed… or was I recalling having read the essay by Roy, and had manipulated the details of it to be coming from a third person, in my memory? With the protagonist’s name changed, and third person perspectives that Roy didn’t mention in much detail? It all sounded too ridiculous.
And then it struck me. It almost literally struck me. It just fell short of landing a blow on my head.
“AIDS Sutra”. Sitting right in front of me. A book that I’d been reading all winter last year during a visit home, left it behind half-unread, repurchased it (because I really wanted to finish something that, after a loonngg time, had held my imagination) and is sitting on my desk before me, as I write this blog post. In fact, here’s proof of that:
In case you’ve forgotten the relevance of bringing up “AIDS Sutra”, it is in this book that I’d read the short story “Hello, darling” that bore so much resemblance to the life of Riyad Wadia. Go figure! Riyad seemed to be the epitomization of the classy, urban homosexual cliche. A cliche that many would aspire to be. (Minus the tragically short life, of course.)
I am excited to finally watch “A Mermaid called Aida”. I’m excited to see Roy Wadia in the flesh as to me he would in a way, be Riyad’s legacy. I’m enthralled at the prospect of having a glimpse of LGBT India in the 1990′s, a movement that was gaining ground while I was still in oblivion, and of times that our slightly-more-aged friends describe with so much nostalgia and so much melancholy.







