On February 14, 2023, a few weeks before the Supreme Court began hearing a batch of pleas to legalise same-sex marriage in India, four petitioners filed slightly different a plea. Pointing out that the family can be a source of violence for queer individuals, the petition asked the Court to recognise the right of queer individuals to have a “chosen family”.
It said that the legal recognition of a family only through ties of marriage, birth or adoption excludes bonds that transcend these categories. Natal family violence is not acknowledged or spoken about much or at all, said Rituparna Borah, one of the four petitioners, in an interview. “Still, it is a reality for many females assigned at birth persons – queer or non-queer.”
Since childhood, we face severe discrimination because of the gender we are assigned at birth, said Borah, who is the co-director of Nazariya, a queer feminist resource group based in Delhi.
The idea of a chosen family resonates deeply with Borah and informs her activism and organising as well. “I belong to an indigenous community where community living, chosen families, care, love, food etc are an intrinsic part of being,” said Borah.
For Borah, community and care are more powerful than marriage equality rights.
“Why should my romantic sexual partner be put at the centre of all my collective care and needs?” she asked. “Marriage is not the end goal,” said Borah.
She is not opposed to marriage quality, but rather seeks to draw attention to the power that it upholds – based on material reality and privilege. Choices are not made in a vacuum but are affected by the broader situation, said Borah. We make the most viable or rational choice based on the options we have, she said.
“Marriage will only be a free choice if the privileges associated with marriage be taken away from marriage,” said Borah. Excerpts:
You moved to Delhi some years ago from a village in Assam. Do you see the shift to a big city liberating as a queer person?
I shifted to Guwahati during my schooling days, Class 11 and 12 to be precise. I was at the Cotton College which is now Cotton University. In Assam many students from the state board study in colleges after their Class 10. I was the first person from my village to come out and study outside of my village. After Guwahati, I came to Delhi for my graduation and then the rest of the studies that I did.
These shifts out of my village gave me anonymity. I joined the women’s movement first and then much later I became part of the queer movement. Delhi gave me a chance to be closer to political movements, to learn about
various movements. Delhi is also a city where many people migrate, so yes it was liberating for me to a certain extent but I did and do keep missing my roots.
In your years as a queer feminist belonging to an indigenous tribe, and as the director of Nazariya-QFRG based in Delhi, do you believe there is enough common ground and understanding of the two regions you are “part of”?
I am not sure where the common ground lies. In all these years, I have been trying to find a common ground. I belong to an indigenous community where community living, chosen families, care, love, food etc are an intrinsic part of being.
A stranger will call you home with love and care to share their food, a meal. They don’t understand the artificial or rather the two faced understanding of showing love. If one is angry they will show anger and will fight. If one is feeling love – they will show love. They are who they are.
But in this very “politically correct” age, I don’t know if I have been able to find a common ground of my indigenous identity and my queer identity.
Talking about marginalisation is one thing but actually being inclusive is another thing. Is our organisation, or rather any organisation, running with an indigenous politics? They might be running with a feminist politics, or a queer politics. But not with an indigenous politics – where collective care is at the centre.
What led you and the other founders to set up Nazariya-QFRG?
All the three co-founders have been part of the feminists and the queer organised movements in the country. We have also been part of other progressive organisations.
What we realised is that whenever the movements talked about queer issues, we were a second or third though or an etc. We wanted to bridge the link between various movements and organising and bring in a queer perspective into the work and culture of organisations.
How do you define feminism? Is it a static term, or is influenced by histories, time and regions?
Feminism is not one feminism. Therefore, it has never been static. We have been part of various ideologies and discourses of feminisms and I think most of us are familiar with these discourses.
What makes feminism interesting is that it is never a stand alone thing. Feminism gives us a “different” lens to look at society. For instance, one is working on livelihood issues, with the farming community. They also work with women farmers.
For me, just because one works with farmers might not give a holistic view of my kind of feminism. They need to look at if these women have the time to rest, what do they eat, are they part of the decision-making process, what about discussions around the body and its autonomy.
Now, since women are working in the fields, are there proper crèche facilities for their babies, are there nursing rooms and toilets? They go back to the house and work again – what we call household chores.
What about the attitude of the men? What caste they belong to? Are there middle persons who are selling their produce at a very high price but giving these farmers very low wages? What’s the relationship of these farmers to the state? Is this farming community talking about food sovereignty? What about indigenous knowledge? For me, everything is feminism.
The reading down of Section 377 has been seen as historic and a turning point in the queer movement. Do you think there has been significant changes since?
I know there has been a critique that a change in law does not ensure a change in the lives of marginalised people. But I am an optimist and I do not believe in binaries – it is not an either or or situation.
I think yes, there have been changes after the reading down of Section 377. I work for an organisation called Nazariya and we run a helpline. What was interesting was that many LBQ [lesbian, bi-sexual and queer] women called us from all parts of India on our helpline and said “Ab to hum bhaag sakte he” [now we can elope].
It was a reflection of the amount of violence persons assigned female at birth face in India but also how a judgement might impact people in various ways. This, even though the reading down of Section 377 was to do with a specific sexual act typically attributed to men having sex with men – after all, in our society, women don’t have sex – pun intended.
The change in law, I have seen, has made it a bit easier to navigate police stations when we go there with cases involving consensual relationships.
You aren’t a great supporter of marriage equality as such even though you live with your partner and are denied several civil rights. Don’t you believe it is a choice that everyone should have?
Marriage is not the end goal. Choices don’t come in a vacuum. It is impacted by the political economy. So there has never been a free choice. We are also limited by the choices we are provided with and we choose from whatever options we have. We then make the most economically viable, and/or rational choice possible.
All these benefits that people talk about are linked to material realities which are very important, I understand. I also acknowledge cis-het feminists from the women’s movement never fought against marriage as such. They worked to beautify marriage by getting married left, right and centre.
But I told you I am an optimist. I believe in community – not necessarily the LGBT community alone. I have grown up in a village community with collective care. Why should my romantic sexual partner be put at the centre of all my collective care and needs? Is it not a burden on her or am I not expecting too much from my partner?
What about romantic friendships or intimate friendships? A friendship where you can just pick up the phone and silently cry without having to explain why am I crying? A friendship whose hug can make all your woes go away; a friendship who understands that you have taken that bad decision but stands with you and still supports you with lot of criticism but we know that they are with us.
A friendship with whom we can sleep peacefully if we have not been able to sleep for a long time; a friend and friendship that can show you what’s wrong in your decision but it wont hurt your ego – that’s what chosen family is. I live for this chosen family and I am alive because of my chosen family.
Just because I have a romantic and sexual partner why should all my material benefits be given to her. Why should she be the only one who will decide if I am critically ill, if it’s the time for the doctors to pull the plug. Try the community living – it is much better than a partnered living. I am monogamous with a chosen family.
Marriage will only be a free choice if the privileges associated with marriage be taken away from marriage.
During the marriage equality case fought in the Supreme Court, there was a petition from you and others referring to natal family violence, expanding the idea of family too to a chosen one. Can you elaborate on the same, the context and reasons for such a petition that was hugely distinct from other petitions?
This petition was an initiative of the National Network of Lesbian, Bisexual, Queer and Intersex women and trans persons to talk about natal family violence and chosen families.
Natal family violence, we are aware, isn’t acknowledged or spoken about much or at all. Still, it is a reality for many females assigned at birth persons – queer or non-queer.
Since childhood, we face severe discrimination because of the gender we are assigned at birth. We sometimes do not get to realise our gender or sexuality, but family violence never stops.
What kind of world would you like to see for yourself being a queer, indigenous and a person with disabilities?
A world where we acknowledge our privileges, and always try not to harm others by our actions. A world which spreads love and care thereby bringing in peace and harmony.
Sharif Rangnekar is the author of Straight to Normal and Queersapien. He is also the director of the Rainbow Literature Festival.
This article is part of the Queer & Inclusive series.
