The young creative scene responds to the historic repeal of Section 377
“The second I got off at my underground stop, my feed was literally flooded with rainbows. I didn’t even need to read the captions, I knew love had won.”
That was exactly Alexander Balakrishnan’s reaction to the repeal of section 377 – allowing gay sex to be legal once again in India. The 19-year-old model, who is based in New Delhi, then looked up and said a silent prayer to God, just like the many Indians who had prayed for this day to come.
On September 6 2018, a date that will be seen as a historic landmark for human rights in the future, India changed things for its LGBT population. After 24 years of struggle to repeal the British colonial-era law, inspired by Tudor England’s Buggery Act 1553, it set an example to the many nations where being gay is still a crime. But for the diaspora of India and the wider South Asian subcontinent, it opened up conversations between older and younger generations about what it means to be Indian and queer.
We’ve spoken to a range of Indian creatives from the motherland and around the globe about how they feel to be recognised legally, and how this will shape their life, work, and identity.
Leo Kalyan, a singer and music producer, couldn’t believe the news: “I knew that the decision was imminent, but I guess I subconsciously dismissed it as never being a real possibility”.
This outlook reflects the honest reality of being queer and Indian – it’s like being invisible. With the focus on heteronormative relationships and marriage being the end goal, the larger South Asian community have a ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ attitude when it comes to being LGBTQ.
“Even in 2018, most queer South Asians feel totally unable to come out,” he adds. “They end up getting married to the opposite gender, or just living their lives forever on the down low, hoping that one day the incessant family questioning around shaadi (marriage) will stop.” Kalyan says he sees from experience that this can lead to awful, strained relationships and untold damage on people’s mental health.
Now, with repeal, being Indian and LGBTQI feels recognised and worthy. “With the huge culture of erasure and refusal to acknowledge we exist, (as according to a 2012 census, there are nearly 3 million queer people living in India) this huge news brought to our doorsteps, family homes, and places of work helps up feel more seen and heard!” says Arun, a musician, DJ, and member of Pxssy Palace.
“If you’re happy about this repeal, liking my status on Facebook about it is not enough. Don’t support from the shadows” – Arun
Being queer has been characterised by the wider Indian community in the past as a “hedonistic, western lifestyle choice”. There is this false narrative that if you’re not straight, you’re losing your South Asian roots, according to Kalyan. Yet to know South Asian history is to understand that being queer has been a part of South Asian culture since antiquity, adds artist Arka Patra. “They’ve existed in an organic way that western cultures with an Abrahamic basis have not seen”.
This exact reasoning was one that allowed section 377 to be overturned in the first place. Lawyers argued that the law and conservative attitude to being queer was imported from British values. Queer sexuality is adorned on the walls of temples, acted upon by Gods and within historical scriptures. The Kama Sutra even dedicates an entire chapter to the subject. For those who argued for the repeal of section 377, it’s a step away from colonised thinking and a time to be loudly proud of being queer.
Ryan Lanji, the fashion and art curator behind Hungama, East London’s gay bollywood hip-hop night out, also told Dazed: “I have already taken a massive leap with Hungama by using my story to stand tall and proud and find other voices who are ready to stand with me”. He says that repeal has inspired him with hope, and he’ll continue to put on club nights and curated exhibitions for the LGBTQI community.
Similarly, making gay sex and thus gay love legal again has given Leo Kalyan much to think about for this upcoming music video. His single “Focus” is about living under the weight of South Asian heteronormativity, and “the emotional toll that repressing yourself takes”. It’s a vital time for queer Indians to see themselves in work made by those that are like them, and for queer brown art to be viewed as something expansive, and not just one homogenous body.
Artist Arun’s upcoming EP Dark Honey, for example, brings back light and sensuality. “I’m singing very openly about my relationships with men and all the great sex I’ve been having with them,” Arun says. “(Lines such as) ‘I just wanna put my body on your face boy’ on top of a beat I made that’s audibly influenced by Indian music is a conscious decision by me, in hopes that it will contribute to the carving out and maintaining of this space that we are seeing now for the queer South Asian community.”
Representation does not need be niche. Fine art and fashion photographer Arka Patra, who is based in an urban and progressive corner of India, can already see the change in the market. “Advertisements for fashion, food products and such have already modified and/or altered their taglines to accommodate this new-found legal subject,” Patra claims.
Model Alexander Balakrishnan adds that around half of the photoshoots he has been a part of have thought beyond the binary, “instead of having to make ourselves seem heterosexual for the purpose of getting gigs”. Visibility seems to be getting better, and cultural gatekeepers are becoming more accepting.
“One cannot be blind to the targeting and killings of LGBTQI activists in our neighbouring countries” – Arka Patra
On the other hand, all the creatives who spoke to Dazed remarked upon the fact that this is a small step for India and South Asian cultures in general – as Patra aptly puts: “One cannot be blind to the targeting and killings of LGBTQI activists in our neighbouring countries”. India’s progression itself has a long way to go as civil partnerships, marriage, adoption laws and so forth that must be reformed before queer people can be on equal footing with heterosexual counterparts.
Open dialogue and explicit allyship is vital right now. “If these conversations about our existence and oppression are only happening between queer South Asian people, it becomes an echo chamber. If you’re happy about this repeal for example, liking my status on Facebook about it is not enough. Don’t support from the shadows” says Arun.
But the sweet result for those supporting the repeal of section 377 from afar is about finally being accepted from the motherland. Many have spoken about how they felt they couldn’t return to their roots because of the violence and persecution towards queer individuals – now they have a branch to hold on to.