Cactus Pears: This Queer Romance From Rural India Is a Quiet Marvel

A man finds love while grieving the loss of his father in Rohan Parashuram Kanawade’s semi-autobiographical drama, a tender and revealing glimpse of hidden lives in India’s remote enclaves

In Rohan Parashuram Kanawade’s assured debut Cactus Pears, queerness and tradition – usually framed as opposing forces – are given space to exist symbiotically. Subtly dismantling tired tropes about queer identity, the film is a mesmeric portrayal of everyday life in remote rural India, where same-sex desire is portrayed not as an alien intrusion, but as something that’s been alive and pulsating yet fiercely shrouded underneath the surface all along.

Anand (Bhushaan Manoj), a 30-something man from Maharashtra, India, returns to his ancestral village from Mumbai to attend his father’s funeral. The procession involves a series of mourning rituals over a 10-day period, intended to facilitate the soul’s departure from the physical realm. Anand is out to his parents but not to his extended family or fellow villagers. Anxious to escape the endless questioning about his unmarried status, he sacrilegiously considers only staying for a few days. Instead, he finds himself trapped between grief and obligation, but also enticed by a rekindling friendship.

The story is rooted in Kanawade’s own experience. “When my father passed away, I had to go back to my village and undergo all the rituals that you see in the film,” he says. “All these people visiting you and questioning you about why you’re not married. I started to think, what if I had a friend in this village who knew about me, and I could sneak out of the house and remove myself, even for a bit, from all this marriage pressure.” The imagined escape takes the form of Balya (Suraaj Suman), a childhood friend whose appearance prompts a tentative romance.

Anand’s sexuality is not the central conflict driving Cactus Pears, though its complexities loom large over his life. Tension and unease are permanently etched on his face, as he returns to a place where he has long felt unable to be himself. Yet the film tactfully circumvents any direct standoff with tradition and avoids caricaturing any of the villagers or their conservatism. “Their thinking is: we need to help him find a wife, as he’s not going to do it himself,” says Kanawade. “They do it because they care.” Although well-meaning, the barrage of questions are felt by Balya as a string of small, cumulative wounds that reveal his quiet alienation from the community.

There are other, implied rebukes to common assumptions about queer sexuality in the film. “I wanted to reiterate the idea that queerness is not solely a western thing,” says Kanawade. “That’s the prevalent thought in India. By choosing this rural setting, engaging with all the rituals and portraying this coupling in such an ordinary and natural way, [I could make the] characters’ sexuality also appear natural.”

Anand is expected to remain home throughout the ten days, restricted to two daily meals, forbidden from wearing shoes and, later, required to shave his head. These rituals are presented as part of everyday life and not highlighted as exotic curiosities. Cinematographer Vikas Urs injects a relaxed naturalism with static frames that capture the rhythms of village life, constructing a world that feels lived-in while still giving us arresting scenes of arid landscapes, sparse architecture and various social gatherings. The results persuasively balance an affection for tradition with an awareness of its limitations.

Kanawade originally trained as an interior designer in Mumbai, writing short stories on the side before being encouraged by a colleague to adapt one into a short film shot for a competition. “I wasn’t from a film background,” he explains. “I had to write my own screenplays, [but] my design background helped me sketch scenes. Then I learned editing, sourcing music and sound. I was doing everything myself while watching a lot of films and slowly making friends in the industry.”

Cactus Pears has been a decade in the making, first conceived in 2016 and later developed through the Venice Biennale College Cinema programme. Casting proved expectedly difficult; it took three years for Kanawade to find his two leads. The production was upfront regarding the intimacy and nudity required, with many prospective actors not turning up to auditions. “In the end it happened very organically,” says the director, who cast theatre performer Manoj after a friend sent him his Instagram profile. “He was exactly what I had in mind. Once he was cast, Bhushaan recommended Suraj for Balya, and the chemistry worked because they already knew each other.”

The film derives its warmth from this gentle, slow-burn dalliance where the chemistry is palpable. Balya’s optimism strikes a perfect balance with Anand’s guardedness, fostering a connection that signals something beyond a casual fling. Their intimate moments are revealingly tender and deeply emotional, requiring considerable vulnerability from the actors.  

Through Balya, we get a glimpse of hidden queer lives beyond India’s metropolitan centres. During location scouting, Kanawade talked to numerous men on Grindr. “I found it fascinating to see so many gay men,” he says. “Mostly faceless profiles advertising their remote locations. There’s so much open space; people could hook up anywhere. But it’s mostly about sex. Many of them are married. And most couldn’t conceive of the idea of having a relationship with another man.”  Balya appears to want more than just casual sex and, like Anand, possesses the self-awareness and inner strength to not succumb to social pressure.

As the ten days progress, the rituals slowly perform their intended function, with Anand coming to terms with his grief cushioned by the possibilities of his newfound relationship. But there is an understanding as he ventures into the future that he will always be tethered to the past and to his village. And just as queerness in Cactus Pears is not positioned outside tradition but quietly interwoven through it, his past is just waiting for the day when it will be acknowledged.

Cactus Pears is out in UK cinemas on 19 June.