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The 2026 Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Bill is now a law. Let's be clear right away: this isn't progress. It is a deliberate, well-planned and extremely damaging rollback.
As an ally, I have no desire to soften this. Neutrality turns into complicity when a law deprives a community of autonomy, dignity and legal clarity.
One fundamental change lies at the core of this bill: it eliminates the right to self-identification. Gender identity is very personal and needs to be self-determined, according to the Supreme Court's 2014 NALSA ruling. That was a recognition of fundamental human dignity, not merely a legal victory.
To be "verified," a transgender person now needs to pass a medical board. Let's take a moment to consider that. Gender identity cannot be determined by a medical test. None. Instead, this establishes a system in which individuals must prove their identity to a group of strangers. It is intrusive, unfeasible and essentially dehumanising.
It also creates a bureaucratic bottleneck. Access to medical boards is limited, particularly outside of large cities. These boards may only meet once or twice a year, as experts have already noted. This implies that individuals may have to wait months or even years for their identity to be acknowledged. Delayed rights are denied rights.
Additionally, the bill restricts the definition of transgender. Regardless of medical transition, trans men, trans women, and genderqueer people were previously covered by the law. This is replaced by a stringent, category-based strategy under the amendment. One of the most insidious aspects of this amendment is the way it alters the parameters of what it means to be transgender and what it means to be left out.
Technically, the law still “recognises” these identities: Hijra, Kinner, Aravani, Jogta, besides various shades of intersex. From the surface, this looks like the government is being considerate of the culture. It is not. It is being selective.
What this amendment actually does is take the inclusive definition of gender and replace it with the narrow definition approved by the state. Previously, the law included trans men, trans women, genderqueer individuals without reference to medical interventions. This definition is based on identity as it is lived and expressed.
This amendment does not. It is moving towards a definition based on categories.
But the kicker is this: the categories it is including are not inclusive. As trans activist Grace Banu pointed out in public discourse, the idea of including terms like Hijra or Kinner is actually based on the dominant Hindu caste understanding of gender variance.
India is not as simple as this.
From thirunangai in Tamil Nadu to nupi maanbi in Manipur, trans identities are present in all areas, languages, and communities. Large segments of the community are effectively told by the law that they do not exist in the eyes of the state because it does not acknowledge this diversity.
There is also a dangerous narrative embedded in this bill, that trans identity can be “induced” or forced. The introduction of new offences around coercion may sound protective on paper, but in reality, they reinforce a harmful stereotype: that being trans is not innate, but something imposed.
There is no credible evidence to support this claim.
Instead, this makes support networks illegal. The places that trans people depend on for survival, chosen families, mentors, and community shelters can now be seen with suspicion. These networks are essential in a nation where many trans people are forced from their homes. They are necessary.
The bill also raises serious privacy concerns because it affects people's privacy. It says that hospitals and doctors have to tell the state about medical procedures that help people change their gender. This means the state will be keeping an eye on personal information without making sure it is safe. Normally this would be considered an invasion of privacy. In this case it seems like it is being accepted as normal.
What is more scary is what this means for people who were already recognized as transgender under the law from 2019.
Over 32,000 transgender certificates have been issued so far. The amendment provides no clarity on whether these will remain valid. That means thousands of people could suddenly find their legal identity questioned.
This is not governance. This is destabilisation.
The supporters of this bill say that a more defined process needs to be in place so that this is not abused. However, laws cannot be made on suspicion, but on facts and figures. There is no evidence of abuse of this process. What we do have is overwhelming evidence of discrimination, violence, and exclusion faced by trans people in India.
According to the 2011 census data, India has around 4.9 lakh transgender persons. The actual figure is believed to be far higher than this number. Several studies by different organisations and health departments have revealed that the transgender population is facing a high level of unemployment, homelessness, and mental health challenges.
The response to marginalisation cannot be more control. It has to be more rights.
What makes this situation particularly distressing is the manner in which the bill has been introduced. It has been rushed through Parliament without much debate. There has been no consultation with the community it affects. Members of the National Council for Transgender Persons have resigned in protest. More than 140 legal experts and activists have appealed against it.
When a law impacting a marginalised group is created without that group’s participation, it is not protection. It is imposition.
This is a constant advocacy of rights-based approaches by activists: a focus on autonomy, consent and experience rather than state control. This bill does the opposite: it recenters power in institutions that have excluded the very people they are now trying to control.
The role of allies, in this case, is not to speak over trans voices, but to stand firmly with them. And right now, trans activists, lawyers, and community leaders across the country are saying the same thing: this law takes us backwards.
The question is not whether the bill needed reform. Laws can and should evolve. The question is: who benefits from this version of reform?
Because it is not the trans community.
If anything, this amendment makes their lives harder, more surveilled and more uncertain. It replaces dignity with documentation, identity with approval, and community with suspicion.
That is not protection. That is control. And it must be called out as such.
About the author: A queer founder, Vikas Narula has built Depot48 as an inclusion-first space, with initiatives like Pink Thursdays, all-gender restrooms, and sustained queer programming that have made it a trusted safe space for the LGBTQIA+ community. His lived experience informs both his hospitality ethos and his voice as a writer.
