By Didier Muller. Illustration by Salvatore Pirito.
You could trick me, and I’d be grateful
Tell me everything I want to know
And I’ll open myself
You could do anything,
Steal from me
And I will kiss your fingers
Whilst they burrow through my pockets.
They might smell of someone else
I don’t care
I’ll press them hard against my wet body
They will soon smell like me
And I will start to smell like you
You could trick me, and I’d be a fool
I’d be the happiest fool.
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Aaina explores how for many Indians, love is less a private choice than a controlled privilege, shaped by family, caste, class and power rather than individual freedom.
