About the Book: Homeless tells the story of K. Vaishali, a neurodivergent queer person, as she recounts her experiences growing up and attending college in India as a lesbian with dyslexia. The book delves into the difficult emotions and challenges she faced, offering a raw and vulnerable look at her life. 

Why You Should Read This Book: Recently awarded the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puruskar for 2024, K. Vaishali’s beautifully written book breaks new ground in its representation of LGBTQIA+ individuals. Homeless offers a comprehensive understanding of her struggles, making it a significant piece of literature within its Indian context. 

For a book that begins with “I read online,” Homeless captures the anxieties of queer, neurodivergent youth across more than a dozen chapters with great effectiveness in between its covers. It plays with the idea of what "home" means, as envisioned in different ways. Is home in our hometown? In the city we moved to for work or higher education? Is it in friends, in community, in lover(s)? Or is it in our own body, even when it feels at odds with the pace of the neurotypical world around us? Vaishali intertwines her deeply personal life story with these universal questions in Homeless. While the answers may not always be satisfying, they provide an unfiltered look into growing up as a lesbian and dyslexic in India. Homeless is a clear portrait of how queerness and neurodivergence impact our everyday life.  

Around the world, only a few books are published each year by queer women compared to narratives by other gender identities within the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. Among them, Homeless stands out with its raw honesty, where the author reflects on the act of writing itself, questioning its necessity and the use of terms that are often ignored. While clinical literature has codified terms related to gender, sexuality, mental illness and so on, their true meaning comes out when they are used within the framework of lived experiences.  One gets to know what they mean, where they lack, and what they embody for someone’s lived reality. The book critiques the censoring of the word "lesbian" in Bollywood, or how the hit movie Taare Zameen Par was the reference point for a hostel warden who learned that Vaishali was admitted to her university through a disability quota. (FYI: that film is far from the best portrayal of developmental disabilities, as it mixes up quite a few conditions and brushes them under the single term of dyslexia). Her experiences also portray the pressures of performing queer identities in urban spaces, as seen when Vaishali remarks, “I haven’t lesbianed in a year.” 

While this book might not fit into the genre of ‘queer joy,’ it explores the reasons behind the lack of it and follows the author in pursuit of queer joy, which is also where it ends. Vaishali goes beyond the now-common discussions of parents reacting to their child’s coming out, delving into the smaller interactions that make a difference; for instance, silence or no engagement from parents at certain times can also mean suppression and an ongoing emotional build-up which comes out in ugly forms later. She covers conversations with mental health professionals and college authorities, emphasizing the bureaucratic importance of proving one’s disability and the challenges of navigating university spaces not designed for neurodivergent individuals.  

The book offers valuable insights for DEI practitioners, highlighting the need for less documentation, more sensitivity in the workforce, and better understanding of queer and disabled experiences for accommodation. 

I’d also recommend checking out R. Raj Rao’s review here, which underscores Homeless as a significant work, but also criticises some elements of it, such as its repetition of certain anecdotes which make the narrative flow a bit slack and the lack of references to existing queer literature in India. Vaishali’s discussion on the protests over Rohith Vemula’s institutional murder feels neglectful. Vaishali discusses the discrimination faced by her as a queer and disabled individual in the institutional space and makes the connection as to how caste is also an axis of discrimination in a similar sense, even though she is not deeply aware of it. However, her hesitance to participate in the protests and reluctance towards idea of institutionalising a committee that will protect minorities feels odd, given a major theme of the book is the institutional discrimination faced by queer, disabled folks.  

Additionally, the chapters on college life miss crucial details, such as how Vaishali earned a gold medal despite her disabilities. 

Although the book’s accessibility is evident in its easy language and larger font, I haven’t come across a dyslexic-friendly edition, which could be a brilliant addition to its legacy. Homeless captures the generational anxiety of growing up in an ever-changing world, making it a vital read for understanding the lives of queer Indians through the dual lens of queerness and neurodivergence, even if it leaves the readers wanting more. 

Link to publisher’s page – Yoda Press 

Text and image by Rajeev Kushwah.