Because Queerness Has ALWAYS Been Part of India’s Story
Let’s start with a little imagination. Picture this: It’s ancient India, somewhere between epic battles, celestial dances, and sages who may or may not be time travelers (seriously, how did they know so much?). The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood, someone’s chanting a hymn, and over in a grand temple courtyard, a sculptor is chiseling a same-sex couple into stone—because love was love, and no one batted an eye.
Now, fast forward a few centuries. Suddenly, love has “rules.” Some guys with stiff collars and British accents show up, clutching their pearls (figuratively speaking, of course), declaring that queerness is a crime and scribbling Section 377 into law. And just like that, India’s long, glorious, and very gay history gets shoved under the rug.
Well, guess what? We’re pulling it right back out.
Mythology: When the Gods Were the Original Gender-Benders
If you think gender fluidity and same-sex love are new concepts, the Hindu pantheon would like a word. Because long before Pride flags, our gods were out here switching genders, falling in love with whoever they pleased, and rewriting the idea of what identity even meant.
Let’s start with Shiva, the coolest god to ever exist (when he’s not destroying things). When Parvati suggested merging together as one being—half-man, half-woman—he said, “Sure, babe,” and thus Ardhanarishvara was born. A literal deity proving that gender isn’t a rigid box but a beautiful spectrum.
And then we have Vishnu, the shape-shifting flirt. He transformed into Mohini, an enchantress so mesmerizing that even Shiva himself couldn’t resist. (Cue dramatic Bollywood love song). And before you assume this was a one-time experiment, Mohini appeared multiple times throughout mythology, charming gods and mortals alike.
Even Krishna, the ultimate mischief-maker, had his gender-fluid moments, turning into a woman to marry his devotee Aravan in a temple ritual that still takes place in Tamil Nadu today.
What does this tell us? Queerness was not just accepted in ancient India—it was divine.
Ancient India: Where Gods Were Gender-Fluid & Warriors Weren’t Always “Manly Men”
Our epics—the Mahabharata and the Ramayana—are basically queer fantasy sagas with swords, curses, and dramatic gender transformations.
Shikhandi: The OG Trans Warrior Who Didn’t Care About Your Labels
You think gender identity is complicated? Meet Shikhandi, the trans warrior of the Mahabharata who took gender fluidity to battlefield levels. 
Born Shikhandini, she was raised as a princess but identified as male from the start. Determined to be a warrior, she underwent a divine gender reassignment, thanks to a yaksha (a supernatural being who clearly had no time for binary nonsense).
And guess what?
She was a total game-changer in the Kurukshetra War. Bhishma, the all-powerful grandpa-warrior of the Kauravas, refused to fight her because he recognized her soul as Amba—the woman he had wronged in a past life.
Translation? A trans warrior was so powerful that even a legendary fighter refused to lift his weapon against her.
(Side note: Someone PLEASE make a full-blown action movie about her. We deserve it.)
Medieval India: The Sufi Poets & Mughal Romances No One Talks About
By the time we hit medieval India, queer love hadn’t disappeared—it had just found new places to thrive. And one of those places? The poetry of Sufi saints.
If you’ve ever read Sufi poetry (and if you haven’t, you’re missing out), you’ll notice one thing: it’s basically an endless, emotional love letter to a “beloved.” Who was this beloved? More often than not, it was a young male disciple. Saints like Bulleh Shah and Shah Hussain wrote about their love and longing in ways that make modern romance novels look weak.
And then there were the Mughals—arguably the most dramatic dynasty in Indian history. While their court records were full of political backstabbing and war, there were also whispers of romantic friendships that were definitely more than friendships.
Take Babur, the founder of the Mughal Empire. He was a warrior, a poet, and, as his own writings suggest, a man deeply in love with another young man named Baburi. Did history books tell you that? No, because they were too busy straight-washing everything.
And let’s not forget Alauddin Khilji and his general Malik Kafur. Some historians call their relationship “intense loyalty.” But when a king gives his general the keys to an entire empire and showers him with unimaginable wealth, it’s safe to say there was more going on than just job benefits.
The British Arrive, and Everything Goes to Hell
Before the British came, Indian society had a pretty relaxed attitude towards gender and sexuality. But then? Colonialism happened.
Victorian England was about as fun as a tax audit, and they brought their rigid moral codes with them. Suddenly, everything that had been a part of India’s cultural fabric—temples with queer carvings, poetry about same-sex love, communities that existed freely—was labeled “immoral” or “unnatural.”
Enter Section 377, a law passed in 1861 that criminalized “unnatural offenses.” And just like that, centuries of acceptance were erased.
India, which had once had gender-fluid deities and celebrated same-sex love in literature, was forced into a heteronormative box.
Thanks, colonizers.
Modern India: Queerness Reclaims Its Throne
Fast forward to today, and the LGBTQ+ community in India is taking back its space—because we were never the problem. The laws were.
In 2018, after decades of activism, Section 377 was struck down. The Supreme Court finally admitted that, yeah, maybe criminalizing love was a bad idea (you think?).
Now, Pride parades take over city streets, Bollywood is finally trying to get queer representation right (still working on it, though), and a new generation is rediscovering the queerness that was always a part of India’s history.
And the Hijra community—who had been revered for centuries before colonialism criminalized them—is reclaiming its position in society, one step at a time.
Final Thoughts? We Were Always Here, and We’re Not Going Anywhere
So, the next time someone tells you that being LGBTQ+ is “against Indian culture,” feel free to hit them with this:
“Actually, our gods were gender-fluid, our poets wrote love poems to other men, our rulers had same-sex lovers, and our ancient texts openly discussed queerness. It wasn’t Indian culture that made queerness taboo—it was colonialism.”
Then, sip your chai and enjoy the stunned silence.
Because queerness has ALWAYS been part of India’s story.
And now, we’re making sure it’s never erased again.
