Manasa Madishetty

Boys of Safdarjung: A Short Film On Delhi’s North Eastern Queer Community

‘Boys of Safdarjung’ is a short film envisioned by Nikhil D and Tsundue Phunkhang. Delhi-based Tsundue, who describes himself as ‘a freelance filmmaker’ had started off doing experimental videos in art school. Having worked on fashions films, he eventually landed a job as a video editor at Vogue India in Mumbai for a year. Meanwhile, Nikhil studied design and has been working with Indian labels and fashion magazines creating editorials, covers, campaigns, and runway shows.

He tells us, “I have always loved telling stories and making videos, so when I met Tsundue and saw what he could do, I thought this was a good way for me to create stuff in collaboration with him. Usually about people or subjects we both related to.”

The film encapsulates queer freedom living in one of Delhi’s most diverse urban neighbourhoods–-Safdarjung.

With Nightly strolls and homey cake-making by James ‘The Party Chef’ Lalthanzuala, the short film delves into the unshackled life of queer men in India’s capital city. At the centre of this film is the vibrancy of internal migration, love, and identity. Living ‘paycheck to paycheck’, as the film showcases, the inhabitants of Safdarjung are emboldened by their newer more accepted life in mainland India where they can breathe and find space to express themselves. With soft electronic beats and multi-coloured fairy lights, Boys of Safdarjung threads through the happiness of a chosen family, joys of eating cake, and queer liberation.

When asked about what sparked both Nikhil and Tsundue to film their experiences living in Safdarjung they said,

ND: “I used to live on one of the floors of the house we shot the film. We spent many nights there with all the friends you see in the film. I just wanted to have a memory of the space and people in this neighbourhood that we all loved and asked Tsundue how he felt about it. We decided to maybe see what we get out of shooting one evening. Most of the people you see in the video have lived in Safdarjung at some point in their life spent in Delhi.”

TP: “I was not a stranger to Safdarjung, most of my friends lived there and I’d been hanging out there for a good part of my college days. The people in the video are my real friends. So, when Nikhil had the idea to shoot like a day in the life Kind of music video, I was up for it, and it turned out to be something more special than just a music video.”

The short film exudes spontaneity, even so, it also has a waft of pre-planning. Upon delving more into their processes, Nikhil and Tsundue say,

ND: “We took the opportunity of a friend’s birthday to plan it and invite everyone over. Tsundue and I pitched in and bought decoration and did up the house. We asked our cinematographer friend Greg to shoot. He came on board and lit the spaces with Tsundue! I dressed everyone with pieces from my wardrobe mixed with their own. Tsundue had a rough shot breakdown and directed the shots. We had a rough plan and went floor by floor doing some scenes we had in mind with no rehearsal time, mostly all impromptu.”

TP: “It was very spontaneous. No script as such. We placed them in situations and let the camera roll. Some shots like the cigarette ashing glitter were planned. The shooting experience was kind of like a party. We got beer right after the last shot.”

Engulfed within the perception of immediate experience, Boys of Safdarjung is a flamboyant unmediated encounter with queer youthful expression and jubilation. Nikhil and Tsundue comment on their present reflections of the film they created four years ago,

TP: “This film is like a time capsule for me, I think I can look back in the future and relive my 20s through it.”

ND: “ I think, creatively, it was a good time because we all used fashion or makeup to express ourselves, and each of us had a very different style. Obviously, we were dressing up and going to a lot of parties, and then more. It was definitely that part of our lives where we more focussed on having a good time every day and spending time with each other to live carelessly. Discussing dates, homophobia, the neighbours, food, and how to get beers post-midnight.”

On queer representation in our mainstream and Independent media, Nikhil says, “It is odd that when we look at most mainstream media, the queer community is usually tokenised and the conversation always revolves around ‘INCLUSIVITY’. Though it might come from the best intentions, I think the queer community is best represented by working with artists or talent who are from the community itself and this should be normalised. I realised this when I watched the show ‘Pose’. All the trans characters were played by actors who identified as trans. I also watched and loved ‘Trans America’ when I was younger, and I learnt how it was problematic that a cis woman played that role when that part could have been easily played by someone who was trans. We still have Priyanka Chopra playing Mary Kom (an Olympian from Manipur). I guess it’s the responsibility of casting directors to dig deeper and find the right actors for these parts.”

It’s clear where the problem lies. We need more LGBTQIA+ representatives in mainstream media, casting queer roles written by queer people directed by a queer person. And there’s no dearth of queer talent in the Indian film industry. The advertising and fashion industry might make it easier for young people to not live in shame, especially, after watching problematic films like Dostana. I guess, subconsciously, I was trying to represent our community for the wider world and for people to know that we know how to have a great time regardless of their ignorance.”