At 3 p.m. on February 18, 2024, under the heat of the midday sun, approximately 400 colourfully dressed participants marched from Sabar to Mysuru Town Hall, to celebrate the city’s second Pride march.
“I am proud to be here [at the march]. Mysuru has changed,” says Shaikzara who was brought up in the city.” I have been cross-dressing for the last 5-6 years but people have been judging me, saying, ‘why is a boy wearing a girl’s dress?’ But now people are more accepting. I am proud of who I am,” says the 24-year-old who now works at a call centre in Bengaluru. Like Shaikzara, many had come from other parts of Karnataka, Goa, and Tamil Nadu to show their support.
The golden statue of goddess Yellamma (also
known as Renuka) was the star of the celebration. The statue, weighing roughly
10 kilograms, was carried by participants on their heads with drummers and dancers
surrounding them.
The march was organised with support from Namma Pride and Seven Rainbows, organisations working with the trans community. “This year was our second march and we got police permission in one day [whereas] last year it took us two weeks,” says Pranathi amma , as she is respectfully known in the community. She is the founder of Seven Rainbows and has worked for over 37 years across India on issues of gender and sexuality.
“We are learning to communicate better with the police. There are still many people in Mysuru who don’t approve of us and who want us to disappear, but we hope to make it [the Pride march] bigger and more diverse every year,” she says.
The kilometre-long march was through one of the busiest market areas in the city. The local police actively helped to clear traffic, allowing the celebration to happen smoothly. “We respect this community. We walk with them to make sure nothing bad happens. We support these [transgender] people,” said Vijayendra Singh, Assistant Sub Inspector.
“Transgender women occupy a complex space in India. While they are given some cultural protection because of myths around magical powers, they are also discriminated against and harassed,” says Deepak Dhananjaya, a mental health professional who identifies as a queer man. “The local community is working on educating people. Breaking a mindset cannot happen overnight but when I see these marches, especially in small cities, without violence, I feel hopeful,” he adds.
Priyank Asha Sukanand, 31, who attended the
Pride march, says, “I faced discrimination and abuse when I was in university
and decided to push toward affirming my rights and asserting them. Every Pride
that I march is a reminder of all the struggles that I and others in my
situation have, and so I march for them.” A special educator and chef from
Bengaluru, he adds “we saw the true strength of Mysuru's LGBT community and it
was very reassuring.”