Unapologetically me
Extracts from Brown Bodies Live! with Sunthar V
Last month, we ran our first ever event in Toronto, one of my fave cities! We partnered with the amazing team at toronto IRL — the place to find all the coolest in person happenings — to put on a (SOLD OUT!) cosy evening in the heart of the city. We discussed all things love and sex with comedian Sunthar V and therapist Sonam Singh (who you’ll hear from in a not so distant issue!). Honestly, it’s already a 2025 highlight.
Sunthar V is a comedian, born in Scarborough, Toronto, to Eelam Tamil parents who came to Canada as refugees during the Sri Lankan Civil War. His comedy is thought provoking and explores the intricacies and intersectionalities of his identity — unapologetically Eelam Tamil, queer, and Canadian. He has London links too, of course, having lived here for a bit and started London's first Tamil Comedy Club.
I first heard of him when I was dating a Tamil guy and my algorithm was absolutely ruined — you should see the number of Tamil diaspora influencers I'm following… Anyway, he came up on my feed one day and was exactly what I didn’t realise I was looking for. Getting insight into Tamil history and culture — especially around its intersections with love and sex — was fascinating to me. Plus, although I was using a Tamil version of Duolingo (called Ling, in case you ever need it?), Sunthar was teaching me way more fun phrases, especially through his popular Tamil film songs translations.
Here’s a short extract from our chit chat in Toronto.
What messages about love and sex did you receive growing up?
Literally none at home — there was never any conversation.
I definitely gained my messaging from Tamil films and music. Like a lot of other South Asian cultures, sex and love are sung and danced about — it’s not explicit, it’s all metaphors. My Tamil language was good from a young age so I could infer meaning early on and figured out what was going on. I also innately knew that there was something sexual out there in the world.
Then, in the third grade we got internet at home — which basically just meant access to porn.
You came out to your mum when you were around 30, right? Why was that the right moment for you?
The first joke I ever wrote was about that moment, actually. After a funeral, some aunty enquired about me for a girl. My mum brought it up with me. My response was, “What? That aunty didn’t even say hi to me at the funeral.” And, more importantly, I wasn’t interested. She said, “And what? You’re going to bring a boyfriend home?” I was basically like, yeah. So anticlimactic. Years of thinking of that moment and I’m like, ‘Omg, you knew?’
But then she’s like, “Don’t worry. We can find you a girl and solve all of this.” Although I know her heart is in the right place, I have to often explain I don’t want that. Every so often my parents are like, “So… what about now?” but I’ll never want that.
In terms of right moments, it was the right moment for me to become a comedian. I knew I couldn’t be a comedian while I was hiding things from my parents.
How does your career impact your love life?
It’s hard enough for brown men to say they’re bringing a guy home. They might be able to say they’re bringing home a boyfriend who is a doctor or a scientist, but a boyfriend who tells dick sucking jokes for a living? Parents are going to be like, ‘What the fuck?’
There’s also this thing of everyone knowing I’m gay. There’s a perception of me being too gay, too out there. If men are seen with me, then people will know both of us are out. So that also limits who I can date. So, it’s not easy.
You do shows around the world. You’ve sold out shows here in Canada, India, around Europe, Australia. Your comedy is generally sexually explicit, do you have to change things up or adapt in different places?
Look, I have a fanbases in many places that aren't LGBTQ+ friendly, either legally or socially or both. It means I have to do a lot more due-diligence, especially now at the level I am at.
In India, I have to ensure it’s clear it’s an 18+ show — on posters and on socials — just so I don’t get into any trouble or get arrested.
Other Tamil comics have no idea about any of this. Mainly because they’re either not Eelam Tamil; or they’re going from the East to the West, while I am the first going the other way; or they’re straight — I’m queer which comes with its own set of things to navigate.
But I don’t change the jokes I make about sex. They stay. What might change is switching up my Tamil a bit if I’m in India, as it’s a little different there.
Talk to me about the feedback you get from the community.
Women are much more open about telling me how they resonate with the stories I tell. They send me long DMs or confide in me with their personal histories. They tell me how much they laughed.
Men? They’ll be like, “I ain’t even gay, bro, but that was funny.” Straight men are so concerned to be perceived to be enjoying themselves at my shows. They’ll sit there with their arms crossed, almost saying, ‘Go on then, make me laugh bro.’ Or they’ll look to their boys to see if they’re laughing so it’s OK for them to laugh too. It’s so fucked. There’s so much toxic masculinity in South Asian men. Who knew it was gay to enjoy yourself? They can’t even laugh in public. That’s heavy shit. We have work to do. We all need therapy.
Huge thank you to Sunthar, Sonam, Rabia and all of you who joined us on the night. You’re the best 🧡
If you would like to come to a live Brown Bodies show, follow our Luma calendar here. Events are dropping next week!
If you’d like to help us run one in your city, reply to this newsletter and let’s figure it out!
I couldn’t leave you without a song moment.
Tiktok failed to load.Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser