Janhavi Gosavi

The Sunday Essay Five strange days in Dubai, the world capital of crass consumerism and empty excess. The Sunday Essay is made possible thanks to the support of Creative New Zealand. Illustrations by Link Choi Day 1 I wonder if the stingrays behind…

Like many religious immigrant children, Janhavi Gosavi says she inherited her religion from her parents without ever putting in the work to claim it as her own. She writes about how she practises Hinduism and playing catch up when it comes to…

Words by Janhavi Gosavi (she/her) My grandmother lives inside my phone screen. She waddles across the tile flooring of her flat in Mumbai, yelling out to tell everyone who’s home that I’m on the call. I get passed around my different family members.…

Janhavi Gosavi (she/her) If you asked me what was keeping me up until 12 a.m. every night this past month, the answer would be Olivia Rodrigo. For all the right—and wrong—reasons. On the surface, she appears to be your run-of-the-mill…

Words by Janhavi | She/Her CW: Mentions of sexual harm Like most born with a vagina, I assumed mine would do everything it was supposed to. Bleed, open wide for the male girth, and even wider for a watermelon-sized human to someday exit my body. I…

Janhavi Gosavi | She/Her To date an Indian boy, or to not date an Indian boy? That is the question. This dilemma had plagued Tanya and I for all our lives. We were both born in India but brought up in New Zealand, and the cultural blend was difficult…