3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
5 Indian LGBTQ+ books to add to your Pride Month reading
This Pride Month, dive into the vibrant landscape of Indian LGBTQ+ literature. These five books – spanning memoir, fiction and activism – offer powerful perspectives on queer identity, resilience and joy. Whether you're exploring queer narratives for the first time or seeking fresh voices, these works by Indian writers illuminate the personal and political dimensions of being LGBTQ+ in contemporary India and beyond.
1. Walk Like a Girl – Prabal Gurung (2025)
This memoir from the Nepali-American fashion designer traces his extraordinary journey from Kathmandu to the pinnacle of New York's fashion world. Gurung's narrative shines brightest when detailing his complex relationship with his mother Durga Rana – a former Miss Nepal whose progressive parenting clashed with traditional Nepali society. The book offers unprecedented access to the glittering yet cutthroat fashion industry, revealing how Gurung navigated racism, homophobia, and class barriers while dressing icons such as Michelle Obama and Oprah. Particularly powerful are his accounts of being told his designs were 'too ethnic' early in his career, and how he transformed this prejudice into his signature aesthetic blending Eastern and Western influences. The memoir doubles as a love letter to femininity, with Gurung arguing that his queer perspective allowed him to celebrate womanhood in ways straight designers often can't. Publishers describe it as 'The Devil Wears Prada' meets 'Call Me By Your Name', offering both juicy industry gossip and profound meditations on identity.
2. Over The Rainbow: India's Queer Heroes – Aditya Tiwari (2023)
This meticulously researched anthology fills a crucial gap in Indian LGBTQ+ history by profiling 19 pioneers who fought for equality when homosexuality was still criminalised. Tiwari organises the book thematically, with sections on activists (Anjali Gopalan), artists (Sonal Giani), and unlikely allies (journalist Manvendra Singh Gohil). Each profile combines biographical details with historical context – like how Ashok Row Kavi founded India's first gay magazine in 1990 using underground distribution networks. The chapter on Grace Banu provides particularly vital insights into the intersection of caste and queer identity, detailing how she established South India's first transgender engineering college. Tiwari includes fascinating archival material, including reproductions of early protest banners and personal letters between activists during the darkest days of the AIDS crisis. While celebratory, the book doesn't shy away from controversies within the movement, like debates about prioritising marriage equality over more urgent concerns like housing discrimination. The final chapter looks to the future, profiling young activists using TikTok and Instagram to advance the cause.
Pattanaik's genre-defying novel reimagines lesser-known characters from the Mahabharata through a queer feminist lens. The central story follows King Yuvanashva, who accidentally becomes pregnant after drinking a magic potion meant for his wives. Pattanaik expands this brief mythological reference into a profound exploration of gestational masculinity, with the king experiencing both the social privilege of fatherhood and the physical trials of motherhood. Interwoven subplots feature other gender-nonconforming characters: Shikhandi (born female but living as a male warrior), Arjuna (forced to live as a eunuch), and Ila (a deity who changes genders with the lunar cycle). The author's background as a mythologist shines through in the extensive appendices, which compare these stories to global gender-fluid traditions from Native American two-spirit people to Hijra communities. Some critics argue the novel's pacing suffers under its academic ambitions, but most praise its revolutionary portrayal of ancient India's sophisticated understanding of gender as spectrum rather than binary. The book has become particularly influential in contemporary queer Hindu movements.
Shahani's work combines corporate case studies, memoir, and policy manifesto into a compelling argument for LGBTQ+ workplace inclusion. As head of Godrej's diversity council, Shahani documents their decade-long transformation into India's most queer-friendly company – from gender-neutral bathrooms to sponsoring Pride floats. The book analyses successful initiatives such as Tata Steel's transgender hiring program and The Lalit Hotels' sensitivity training, while also examining failures lsuch as Infosys' early resistance to domestic partner benefits. Shahani's personal anecdotes such as coming out to his conservative Gujarati family or navigating corporate parties as a gay man make the data relatable. Particularly innovative is his 'Rainbow Capitalism' chapter, which questions whether corporate allyship is truly progressive or just profit-driven, citing examples of brands that remove rainbow merch after Pride month. The appendix includes practical tools: sample non-discrimination policies, workshop templates, and a glossary explaining terms like 'pansexual' to HR departments. Updated editions now cover post-377 developments and remote work inclusivity challenges.
This candid memoir by the National Award-winning filmmaker traces his journey from a Bhutanese childhood to becoming Bollywood's most openly gay director. Onir (born Anirban Dhar) reveals shocking details about industry homophobia – being told 'we don't fund gay films' after My Brother Nikhil's success, and A-list actors refusing roles once they learned his sexuality. The book alternates between professional struggles (crowdfunding his films) and personal triumphs (adopting twins with his partner). Particularly moving are passages about his late sister Irene, who helped him navigate both creative and coming-out challenges. Film buffs will appreciate behind-the-scenes stories, like how he shot the iconic rain sequence in Bas Ek Pal with just 25% of the planned budget. The final chapters address contemporary issues – his advocacy for marriage equality and criticism of tokenistic queer representation in recent Bollywood hits. What sets this apart from typical celebrity memoirs is its raw vulnerability, including unflinchingly honest accounts of depression and financial ruin. The writing style mirrors Onir's filmmaking – intimate, political, and relentlessly hopeful.
