Hidden Histories: Queer Lives Buried in the Archives

Written By: Anjaly Mukkada

Edited By: Malaika Noorani

Graphic Designer: Pannaga Y P

It is ironic that the people of this country, known for their diversity and acceptance, are often quick to reject anything that falls outside the norm. Society is equally quick to dismiss ideologies and identities in the name of religion or by claiming that they are ‘something invented in Western countries.’ But when will we realise that, even after decades of fighting for independence and years of building a national identity, we are still not entirely free from our colonisers? The shackles of their colonial torture are no longer physical but have become so deeply rooted in our minds that we often fail to recognise them ourselves. Indian society believes that homosexuality is something that was created by Western countries, some sort of virus that spreads into you and curses the very human to their core. Who will tell them that it is not something from the Western mind, but is something that is deep within their own culture?

Like any other fine Indian who always asks for proof and quickly dismisses it, this article gives you enough proof for you to dismiss it, just because it's hard to unlearn the things that have been embedded into you. Using religious texts as a support for your arguments will end soon because the very same texts are going to reveal something you might not want to hear. 

The most prominent trope of same-sex love in India is its portrayal through deep friendships, which often leads to celibacy or the formation of a very intimate relationship. Krishna and Arjuna, who are known for their unwavering friendship, were frequently referred to as ‘the two Krishnas’, reflecting their bonds of friendship that surpass both family and procreation. In fact, in the Mahabharata, Krishna explicitly declares that Arjuna is dearer to him than his wives, children, or relatives, stating that while one may have many spouses and sons, there is only one Arjuna, without whom he cannot live. Krishna also further reiterates their inseparability and divine form to Arjuna. While the text itself does not directly characterise their relationship as romantic, their profound affection and emotional dependence allow us to interpret it using a queer notion. 

Another trope of ancient queerness is the evident existence of gender fluidity in Hindu mythology. Hindu deities are often portrayed as ones who are multidimensional and can change their forms as per their wish. They could be a man or a woman, something neutral, or an animal, for eg: the story of Mohini, the female form of Lord Vishnu, is known to be a very beautiful woman who uses her enchantment to fight off evil entities. Lord Shiva hears about Lord Vishnu's divine illusion and asks him to reveal their female form. There are many versions of this, which differ from region to region, few claiming that Lord Shiva pursues Mohini. It must be noted that Lord Shiva was not tricked or fooled but knew that Mohini was indeed Lord Vishnu. Another example can be the famous story of Mahmud and Ayaz. Mahmud of Ghazni, the founder of the Ghaznavid Empire and his slave Ayaz were known to be the symbol of love by poets and writers of that period, often celebrating his devotion to Ayaz. Many poets compare their relationships to that of Layla and Majnu.

As you can see, Indian history was filled not only with these but also with many more. But it soon ended when the British followed Victorian moral values, like sex should occur only within heterosexual marriage, its primary purpose was reproduction, and homosexuality was immoral and ‘unnatural.’ The most transformational step was the introduction of Section 377, which criminalised any form of homosexuality and queerness. Do note that even though queerness was not celebrated in ancient India, it was never criminalised until the introduction of Section 377. The British did not stop at that, censorship and rewritings of literature were forced to encourage the idea of heterosexuality. 

The irony of us proudly celebrating our “ancient traditions” while conveniently ignoring the parts that challenge the narratives that we have grown comfortable with. We did not just inherit railways, clothes, and English from the British, but also their moral policies and their rigid understanding of sexuality. The colonisers may have left our land, but they never truly left our minds. Perhaps the real question is whether we are willing to confront the uncomfortable truth that it was never queerness that was foreign to this land; it was homophobia. Until we acknowledge that, we will continue to mistake colonial morality for Indian culture.