Queer History and Representation in Indian Culture
- artbykarma
- Apr 6
- 7 min read
Queer History and Representation in Indian Culture: A Focus on Lesbians
India has a long, complex history when it comes to queerness. While modern laws and societal attitudes have often been restrictive, historical texts, folklore, and traditions suggest that diverse sexualities and gender identities were once accepted, if not celebrated. When discussing queerness in Indian culture, much of the focus is on male homosexuality and hijra (third gender) communities, leaving lesbian identities vastly underrepresented. However, lesbian existence in India is far from new — it has been present in mythology, literature, and real-life histories, though often erased or silenced.

Queer Representation in Indian History and Mythology
Hindu Mythology and Queer Love
Indian mythology is filled with gender-fluid and same-sex narratives, though lesbian relationships are less explicitly documented. Some interpretations of religious texts suggest hidden sapphic undertones, but let’s start with some transgendered gods & godesses.
Bhagavata Purana & Gender Transformation: In one story, Lord Vishnu transforms into Mohini, a beautiful woman, and has romantic relationships with men, indicating gender fluidity. While this story does not directly reference lesbian love, it opens discussions about the fluidity of gender and attraction in Indian mythology.

Shikhandi in the Mahabharata: a transgender warrior. Shikhandi, a key figure in the Mahabharata, was born female to King Drupada after he prayed to Shiva for an heir. Raised as a boy, Shikhandi was later married to a princess, whose father threatened war upon discovering Shikhandi was not biologically male. To prevent conflict, Shikhandi fled and encountered a yaksha — nature spirits in the forest linked to fertility and transformation — who temporarily swapped sexes with him. Returning as a man, Shikhandi’s identity was affirmed, and peace was restored. Today, Shikhandi is often referenced in queer discourse as a mythological figure embodying gender fluidity and trans embodiment.
An illustration of Shikhandi before her sex-change, c. 1916 The Tale of Chudala: Chudala, a queen in Hindu mythology, transforms into a man named Kumbha to educate her husband. Some interpretations suggest that during this transformation, she forms emotional and intellectual bonds with other women, though traditional readings avoid queer interpretations.
Though these myths don’t explicitly showcase lesbian relationships, they reveal that Indian traditions did not rigidly define gender and sexuality in the ways modern society often does.
Lesbian Love in Historical Records
While historical records are often written by dominant patriarchal and colonial voices, glimpses of lesbian relationships appear in ancient and medieval texts.
Mughal Harem and Female Companionship: Within the opulent walls of the Mughal harem — a space populated by queens, concubines, attendants, and enslaved women — intimacy among women was inevitable, and often emotionally and physically charged. Though rarely named, these relationships were built in shared spaces of confinement and privilege.
Historians like Ruby Lal note that harems were not merely sites of patriarchal control, but also zones of female agency and sensual connection. Women bathed together, shared beds, exchanged poetry, gifts, and secrets. Some became inseparable companions, described with language thick with devotion and physical closeness.
“In the hammam, her skin shimmered like moonlit marble. She ran her fingers through my hair as if untangling the stars.” — Anonymous Mughal Court Verse

Rekhti Poetry: Desire in the Feminine Voice
Rekhti, a poetic genre that flourished in 18th–19th century Lucknow, featured women speaking in their own voices about love, sexuality, and pleasure — often directed toward other women. Male poets like Insha Allah Khan and Saadat Yaar Khan “Rangeen” adopted female personas to write in rekhti, but the genre reveals a world teeming with sapphic expression.
“When she braided my hair and kissed my neck, I told her not to stop — but she laughed and said: ‘Silly girl, it’s only mischief.’”
This verse — playful, erotic, and tender — captures the coded intimacy of the time. Whether metaphor or memory, rekhti preserves a literary archive of lesbian potentiality, masked in gender play and poetic artifice.
Sufi poetry
Within South Asian Sufi traditions, poetry became a powerful medium through which mystics — especially women — explored divine and earthly longing. While much of this poetry is interpreted as devotional, its emotional texture often blurs the sacred and the sensual, offering space for queer desire to exist, encoded but palpable.
One notable voice is Mah Laqa Bai Chanda (1768–1824), a celebrated Urdu poet and courtesan from Hyderabad, whose ghazals break gender norms. Writing in the male poetic tradition but from a female perspective, her verses sometimes address a beloved using feminine forms — quietly radical in their subversion.

“Why blame me, O censor of love, When she, with her sidelong glances, Turned my restless heart to ash?”
In this verse, the desire for another woman is unmistakable, conveyed through layered metaphors and longing.
“Her voice — perfumed like attar — wraps around me in the hush of dusk.”
— Here, sensory intimacy between women becomes the central subject, wrapped in the elegance of courtly language.
Going further back, Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya (717–801), an early Sufi mystic from Basra, crafted verses drenched in ecstatic love for the Divine — yet her use of feminine metaphors, veils, and bodily yearning invite sapphic readings.
“I am fully in love with Her, Whose face I’ve never seen — But whose voice turns the tide in my body.”
Though widely read as spiritual allegory, such poetry allows for a queering of mystic expression, where devotion to God and longing for womanhood intertwine.
Across centuries, these poets carved space for desire that refused easy binaries — between lover and God, body and soul, woman and woman. In their verses, we find coded histories of sapphic longing that echo even today.
Colonialism and the Erasure of Indian Queerness
The erasure of LGBTQ+ identities, including lesbianism, in Indian culture can be traced back to British colonial rule. The British-imposed Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code (1861) criminalized “unnatural offenses,” a law that remained until 2018 when it was finally struck down by the Supreme Court of India. While the law primarily targeted male homosexuality, its broader implications reinforced the idea that non-heterosexual relationships were taboo.
British influence also brought Victorian morality, which painted lesbianism as either nonexistent or a threat to the “ideal” woman. As a result, much of India’s historical recognition of same-sex female relationships was erased or ignored.
Before colonial rule, Indian art, literature, and temple iconography reflected a more fluid understanding of gender and sexuality. But the British brought with them Victorian ideals of morality, where heterosexual, monogamous marriage was framed as the only acceptable norm. Under this gaze, lesbianism was either dismissed as impossible, or pathologized as deviance.
Indian women’s desire for other women — once visible in poetry, mythology, and everyday life — was increasingly erased, ridiculed, or rendered invisible. The colonial project not only reshaped laws, but restructured how Indians thought about love, sex, and gender.
The temples of Khajuraho, built between the 9th and 12th centuries, offer a stunning visual archive of this openness. Their sculptures depict sensual pleasure in all its diversity — from heterosexual unions to group sex, masturbation, and even female-female intimacy.
Rather than shaming the body, these carvings celebrate eroticism as part of the divine cycle of creation, desire, and transcendence. Such imagery existed not in hidden corners, but on sacred structures — suggesting that pre-colonial Indian society did not view sex as sinful or profane, but as natural, complex, and even sacred.

Lesbian Representation in Modern Indian Culture
Cinema and Literature
Representation of lesbians in Indian media has been slow and often controversial. Early depictions were rare, and when they did appear, they were often tragic or sensationalized.
Fire (1996): Deepa Mehta’s film Fire, starring Shabana Azmi and Nandita Das, was one of the first Indian movies to openly portray a lesbian relationship. The film sparked massive protests and was banned in parts of India, but it also started a crucial conversation about queer representation. If you’re here reading this article, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen this film!
Deepa Mehta’s film “Fire” (1996) Margarita with a Straw (2014): Starring Kalki Koechlin, this film follows a bisexual protagonist exploring her sexuality, including a relationship with another woman.
Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (2019): This mainstream Bollywood film tackled the struggles of coming out as a lesbian in a conservative Indian family. While it played it safe, its presence in commercial cinema was groundbreaking.
Indian literature has also seen more lesbian representation in recent years, with authors like Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwai exploring queer histories and narratives in their works.
Queer Movements and Real-Life Struggles
Despite legal progress, Indian lesbians still face immense societal pressure. Many queer women are forced into heterosexual marriages, and “corrective rape” is a horrifying reality in some cases. Organizations like LABIA (Lesbians and Bisexuals in Action) and Nazariya work to support lesbian and bisexual women in India.
While the decriminalization of homosexuality in 2018 was a significant victory, same-sex marriage and adoption rights remain unrecognized. Queer women continue to fight for visibility and acceptance in a society where patriarchy and heteronormativity dominate.
Conclusion: Reclaiming Lesbian Histories in India
Indian culture has long had space for gender and sexual fluidity, but centuries of colonialism and patriarchal control have suppressed lesbian identities. As we reclaim these narratives, it’s important to recognize that queer women have always existed in India, whether in the secrecy of Mughal harems, the coded words of Sufi poetry, or the hidden relationships in small towns.
The road ahead is challenging, but with increasing representation in literature, film, and activism, India’s lesbian community is finding its voice. By unearthing and celebrating these histories, we move toward a future where all queer identities can exist openly, without fear.
Further Reading & Resources:
Same-Sex Love in India by Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwai
Queer Activism in India by Naisargi N. Dave
LABIA — A Queer Feminist LBT Collective
Nazariya: A Queer Feminist Resource Group
Reference List
Vanita, Ruth, & Kidwai, Saleem (Eds.) (2000). Same-Sex Love in India: Readings from Literature and History. Palgrave Macmillan.
Dave, Naisargi N. (2012). Queer Activism in India: A Story in the Anthropology of Ethics. Duke University Press.
Lal, Ruby (2005). Domesticity and Power in the Early Mughal World. Cambridge University Press.
Mehta, Deepa (Director). (1996). Fire [Film]. Trial by Fire Films.
Ghosh, Shonali (Director). (2014). Margarita with a Straw [Film]. Viacom18 Motion Pictures.
Chopra, Shelly (Director). (2019). Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga [Film]. Fox Star Studios.
Mah Laqa Bai Chanda. Urdu poet and courtesan from Hyderabad, c. 1768–1824. [Biographical reference: Hyderabad Archaeological Museum].
Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya. (717–801). Early Sufi mystic and poet of Basra.
LABIA — A Queer Feminist LBT Collective. [Website: http://labia.in]
Nazariya — A Queer Feminist Resource Group. [Website: https://nazariyaqfrg.wordpress.com]
The Shooting Star. (n.d.). Khajuraho Temple Eroticism. Retrieved from: https://the-shooting-star.com
The Cleveland Museum of Art. (n.d.). Women Bathing Before an Architectural Panorama by Fayzullah.
Thank you for being here! Much love, Karma Sirikogar. www.KarmaSirikogar.com
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