SISA – Safe, Inclusive, Self-Affirming – these words seem utopian, almost nonsensical, in a world greedy for power and consumption. But they are not; they are our only hope. To remind us of what spaces that are safe, inclusive and self-affirming for each person could look like, we have curated a selection of articles from the last five years of In Plainspeak for this anthology – our gift to wish you a wonderful 2026.
Here’s a beautiful interview to begin with. Tishani Doshi, award winning poet and writer, dancer and performance artist, speaks to Shikha Aleya about connection, movement, freedom, communion and wonder. She says, “What drives us to make a work of art, to create anything? It is fullness, a being in love, exuberance, against the face of all that we find unbearable…” There’s inspiration and more in this interview. Of course, there is also much that is “unbearable” and Anjali writes, as a twenty-four-year-old woman, with insight, tenderness and humour, about walking a tightrope between the world as it is and the world as feminists would like it to be – the personal of the political, so to speak.
Everything, including telling stories, is political, as documentary film-maker Surbhi Dewan explains. How and whose stories we tell (or don’t) are choices we make and feminism offers an ethical framework to guide us through that. However, not all frameworks are helpful; in fact some may be downright constricting as Sudipta Das concludes in a state of “beloved bewilderedness”. In trying to find meaning in what is ultimately meaningless, Sudipta happily stumbles into a space of ambiguity, exploration, flexibility and multiple co-existent universes.
If more of us occupy multiple co-existent universes we will not be confined to a narrow constricting world of boxes, labels and rules that society tries to impose on us. Sreejani writes about how it would be if we grew up embracing sexuality rather than fearing it. One person who did not fear anything despite having reason to fear much is Brit, Firdaus Kanga’s character in his semi-autobiographical novel Trying to Grow. Born with osteogenesis imperfecta aka ‘brittle bone disease’, Brit’s bones may break easily but his zest for life and pursuit of passion are unbreakable. Read Abhigya Singh’s lovingly written review of this exhilarating book.
From the vantage point of age, experience, and some hard knocks and bittersweet life lessons, Chand writes a letter of encouragement and joy to their 21-year-old self. Quite aptly, the last line reads, “And at the end of it all, you will still have hope.”
Hope. That is what fuels our dreams and gives us wings to fly. It allows us to imagine other worlds, other possibilities. Aakanksha Ahuja’s poem lists the queer possibilities she wants to be for the people she cares about. “To be” – two little words; words of such hope, promise and power. Sara Haque’s poem, exactly like its protagonist Anjum, bursts with rebellion, joy and fierceness. It is an experience given form, shape and feeling by words. Words that whisper, words that shout, chosen with preciseness and care.
Words are important, but sometimes we don’t need words to feel comfortable and at ease with someone; we can be together, in silence, in complete comfort. Taarina Therese Chandiramani brings this space of acceptance and ‘just being’ to life in exquisite detail in her short story.
Sometimes we need words but our language does not have them. Imran Khan writes in Hindi about language, LGBTQIA+ identity and steps towards inclusivity. With an expanded vocabulary in Hindi and regional languages, we will be able to speak not only to others but also to ourselves about what matters to us.
We need to speak to ourselves and to others to say what it is that makes us feel safe, included and affirmed. We need to speak and to listen. And then, to act. Check out TARSHI’s infographic on what organisations are doing, and can do, to make workspaces safe, inclusive and self-affirming, in English and Hindi.
Go gently, go well. May 2026 be kind to us.
Cover photo by Niko photos on Unsplash
