Being Gay in Bollywood

Ever since the Supreme Court in 2018 read down provisions of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, decriminalising consensual same-sex love, Bollywood has produced several Queer romantic comedies such as Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (2019), Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020), and Badhaai Do (2022). With leading actors such as Sonam Kapoor, Ayushmann Khurrana, Rajkummar Rao, and Bhumi Pednekar playing Queer characters on screen, one might imagine that Queer films are no longer taboo. This was not the case even seven or eight years ago when a film like Aligarh (2015) was received with protests and calls for a boycott.

Not all expressions of Queerness are equally welcome in Indian society or government, however. In January this year, the Indian Army refused to give a no-objection certificate to filmmaker Onir’s project We Are, which was reportedly inspired by the real-life story of an army major. In response, the filmmaker tweeted: “It’s a long, long road to being treated as equal citizens, who have the right like every other citizen to serve our nation and its army. Why should one’s sexuality decide if one is capable? Miles to go before we sleep.” Recent research by legal scholars such as Ajita Banerjie shows that the struggle of Queer people to find acceptance and dignity is not yet over.

Onir has, in fact, been a leading figure and among the few celebrities from Bollywood to come out as Queer even before same-sex love was decriminalised. When he released My Brother… Nikhil in 2005, the history of Queer cinema in India was short and troubled. While Fire (Deepa Mehta, 1996) had been received with violent protests by the Hindu right, BOMGaY (Riyad Vinci Wadia and Jangu Sethna, 1996) had never been submitted for clearance to the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC). Another film, Adhura (Ashish Balram Nagpal, 1995), starring Irrfan Khan, was not cleared by the CBFC. Queer desire or characters were often the sources of ridicule in mainstream Bollywood films such as Kal Ho Naa Ho (Nikkhil Advani, 2003) or Dostana (Tarun Mansukhani, 2008).

My Brother… Nikhil and Omar, which was part of Onir’s 2010 anthology film I Am, were like breaths of fresh air. Now, film buffs can read about the making of both these and other films in Onir’s autobiography I Am Onir & I Am Gay. Co-written with film editor and producer Irene Dhar Malik (who is also Onir’s sister) the book is a sort of a non-fiction Künstlerroman. It provides intimate details of the protagonist’s coming to terms with his sexuality, his politics, and his art, and is also replete with anecdotes about characters from the film industry, such as Raveena Tandon, Raima Sen, Juhi Chawla, Sanjay Suri, and others with whom Onir has worked.

A major chunk of the book is devoted to My Brother… Nikhil, which was Onir’s breakout film. Based on the life of AIDS activist Dominic D’Souza, who was also the first Indian to be detected with the disease, the film was an independent venture.

Onir writes about several problems he and Sanjay Suri encountered while they were trying to find the money to make the film: “One of the potential financers even suggested that it should be Bipasha Basu who gives him AIDS in the film! They just refused to understand that Nikhil was gay.”

The easy prose brings alive the incidents on the sets in Goa for eager readers, such as him encouraging Suri to swim in the Mandovi river or in the Arabian Sea during the monsoon. The same narrative technique also works in subsequent chapters in which Onir writes about his other films.

The autobiography is bookended by two of Onir’s personal experiences with love. The first one is from 1984 when he was in his late teens and had come to Calcutta (now Kolkata) for his higher secondary studies. “He was tall and dusky, with thoughtful eyes and sensuous lips, and he had somehow decided to take me under his protective wing.” But the love story was destined for tragedy, with the boy breaking off the nascent romance and cutting off all connections with him. The other story, with which the book ends, is of more recent vintage. It is, however, a gut-wrenching story of abuse. “I continue to nurture the idea of falling in love,” writes Onir, despite all the anguish, betraying a deep attachment to life that one often sees in his films.

This book is important for those interested in Bollywood or in queer activism in India, but also for those who are looking for a life story to inspire them.

The reviewer has published a novel Ritual, (2020) and he teaches journalism at O P Jindal Global University, Sonipat