NEW DELHI/SRINAGAR: For many LGBTQIA+ Indians, the hardest battle is not always against the law or public prejudice. Sometimes, it begins at home — in a parent’s silence, a sibling’s suspicion, a phone checked without permission, or a marriage proposal presented as a cure.Across India, queer people are becoming more visible than ever before. Their stories are finding space in films, art exhibitions, theatre productions and even political institutions. Yet behind this growing visibility lies a more complicated reality: acceptance often remains conditional, fragile and uneven.A recent study from Kashmir, conversations with activists and artists, and developments in public life together paint a picture of a community that is increasingly being seen, but not always fully understood.‘Show us as ordinary people’Among those who have helped reshape public conversations around transgender identities is Shreegauri Sawant, whose life story reached millions through Ravi Jadhav’s Taali, featuring Sushmita Sen.For Shreegauri, meaningful representation goes beyond sympathy.“Aap humko koi aam insaan ki tarah dikhao. Tab humein log job denge. There is no need to show a transgender as a dark character or a person who only has hardships. Hum koi abla naari nahi hai, aur na hi bhagwan hai jo sirf ashirwad de sakte hai. Focus on showing us as someone having a career, relationships etc.” she had said in an earlier interview.Yet when asked whether portrayals of queer people have improved significantly, her response remains cautious.“Unfortunately not much. For every good thing, there is something that takes us back 20 years. But yes, things are gradually changing.”
Dr Aijaz Ahmad Bund
Families are changing, society is slowerShreegauri believes one of the biggest shifts in recent years has been within families.“I still don’t know whether it comes from fear of losing your child or from actually understanding that people can have different gender and sexual identities. But acceptance, specifically from families of queer individuals, has increased. I cannot say the same about society at large. At least not yet” she said.She pointed to the contradiction often visible in society’s treatment of gender-diverse individuals.“For example, we have the jogtin tradition in Maharashtra, Karnataka and Telangana and jogtis are honoured by people. But, if they walk into a place wearing jeans and shirts instead of the traditional attire, would they be accepted? So there’s still a lot to change. For now, it’s just heartening to be able to have sane conversations on queer identity with different people,”
Not all discrimination involved confrontation.
In Kashmir, visibility can come at a costThat gap between conversation and acceptance is particularly visible in Kashmir.A report titled Yes, We Exist, based on eight months of fieldwork and interviews with 60 participants, including 44 LGBTQIA+ individuals, documents how visibility can sometimes lead to surveillance, stigma and emotional distress rather than support.Prepared by Sonzal Welfare Trust with research support from the Mariwala Health Initiative, the study examined experiences across families, schools, healthcare systems, law enforcement and wider social structures.Dr Aijaz Ahmad Bund, researcher, activist and assistant professor in the higher education department who led the study, said public discourse around LGBTQIA+ identities had changed significantly over the last decade.“We have been able to normalise the discourse to some extent and bring into the public conversation something that was considered a stigmatised topic,” he said.But visibility, he added, often comes with consequences.Phones checked, friendships monitored, marriages imposedThe report found familial discrimination to be among the most common forms of marginalisation.Participants described having their phones monitored, social media accounts scrutinised, friendships questioned and movements tracked after relatives learned about or suspected their sexual orientation or gender identity.A 22-year-old participant from Srinagar recalled being confronted after his brother discovered messages on his phone.“This is not who we are. This is not our culture,” he was told.Others described relatives increasing surveillance of their clothing choices, behaviour and gender expression. Some families believed prayer, counselling or marriage could change a person’s identity.Marriage emerged repeatedly as a source of pressure.One participant said family members insisted marrying a woman would make “everything normal”. A lesbian participant recounted how her father stopped paying her college fees after she refused marriage proposals, making her financially dependent and jeopardising her education.Not all rejection was loud.“Silence communicates shame without confrontation,” the report noted, describing how refusal to acknowledge a person’s identity could become a powerful form of emotional control.Yet signs of change also emerged. One participant said her mother eventually stopped referring to her identity as a disease and began asking questions instead.According to Bund, more families are now reaching out to activists seeking guidance and support.Struggles inside classrooms and institutionsThe report also documented verbal harassment, social exclusion and bullying in educational institutions.One participant recalled classmates mocking the way he walked and talked before the abuse escalated into physical intimidation. Teachers, the report found, often ignored such incidents and at times reinforced conventional ideas about gender and sexuality.Transgender participants also reported feeling excluded from religious spaces, with some saying they had been discouraged or prevented from praying in mosques because of their gender identity.Although some official recognition of transgender identities now exists within administrative systems, the report concluded that most LGBTQIA+ people in Kashmir continue to live largely invisible lives.The report also said in testimonies gathered from gay, bisexual, and transgender individuals in Kashmir, police harassment emerged as one of the most pressing and recurring forms of institutional oppression. “In a region already shaped by militarization, surveillance, and social conservatism, interactions with law enforcement carry additional layers of fear for gender and sexual minorities.”“Participants described multiple forms of abuse, including extortion, illegal detention, physical and verbal violence, and forced outing. These practices not only violate fundamental rights but also exploit the stigma surrounding non-heteronormative identities in Kashmir society,” the report reads.Art as resistance, identity and healingElsewhere in the country, queer artists are creating spaces where identities can be expressed rather than hidden.At Unboxed 2.0, an exhibition featuring 22 LGBTQIA+ artists from across India, themes of memory, identity, mythology and resilience take centre stage.Co-curator Praveen Mahto said, “The exhibition features a diverse roster of artists, each bringing a distinct visual language to the shared themes of gender, identity, abstraction, and selfhood.”Art student Hardik Verma described the exhibition as a dialogue on belonging.“Across the exhibition, you’ll see a spectrum of colours – some vibrant and pop, others muted. The choice of colours reflects deeper emotions and lived experiences. Each artwork tells a different story, but together they create a powerful conversation about identity, self-expression, and belonging.”Artist Vaishnavi Jagdamba Nandgiri’s work Unmet Desire explores aspirations and disappointments experienced by trans women.“A transwoman has several desires, but not many are met. The drape in the painting symbolises those desires, while the eyes reflect the pain of unfulfilled dreams. Aankhon mein woh intezaar hota hai, aur mann mein ek asha hoti hai ki koi meri ichhaon ko samjhe,” she said.Queer stories step into politics and theatreThe growing visibility of queer voices is also being reflected in public institutions.Senior advocate Menaka Guruswamy, associated with the legal battle that led to the decriminalisation of homosexuality under Section 377 in 2018, has been nominated by the Trinamool Congress for the Rajya Sabha.With her nomination and election, she has become the first openly queer person in Parliament’s Upper House.Meanwhile, theatre continues to revisit queer experiences through Ek Madhav Baug, a Marathi play written by the late Chetan Datar in the 1980s.The monologue follows a divorced mother who discovers that her youngest son is gay and begins confronting questions about sexuality, loneliness and acceptance.“The woman begins to question her own life choices and sexuality as she comes to terms with her son’s reality,” said actor Suhita Thatte.“The prejudices persist even though people are more liberal today and open to having friends from the queer community,” she added.The dilemma of being seenFor Bund, the question that continues to haunt many queer people is simple yet profound: is visibility always worth the risk?His own life reflects that tension. He said some people struggle to reconcile his religious appearance with his queer identity. Within queer spaces he is sometimes seen as “too religious to be queer”, while outside them as “too religious to be a queer”.Even after years of advocacy, he remains cautious about encouraging people to come out publicly if doing so could endanger them.“We are thinking whether the report should be formally released or it shouldn’t,” he said.The hesitation reflects a reality familiar to many LGBTQIA+ Indians: the need to exist openly while constantly calculating the cost of that openness.Seen, but not yet fully acceptedIndia’s queer community today occupies a space that would have been difficult to imagine a decade ago. Their stories are being told through films, paintings, theatre, research and politics. Conversations once considered taboo are entering homes, classrooms and public institutions.Yet the experiences documented in Kashmir and echoed by activists across the country reveal that visibility alone does not guarantee acceptance.For many, the struggle is no longer about proving they exist. It is about being allowed to live, love and belong without fear, surveillance or conditions attached.
