Beyond the binary: Queer athletes on surviving and thriving in Indian sports

I’ve always believed that nothing unites a country of 1.3 billion people quite like sport. But as I sit down to write this, I’m no longer so sure. One of the worst feelings in the world is the sense that you don’t belong. Sadly, we seem to be living in a time where far too many people feel like outsiders—aloof, alone and marginalised. This is the everyday reality for much of India’s queer community. For queer athletes, the challengers are even greater. The absence of policies for transgender inclusion, a persistent heteronormative gaze both on and off the field, and the deliberate exclusion or ridicule of those who don’t conform to conventional norms. No one should have to endure this. But as someone once told me, athletes do what they do for the love of the sport and their country—and that keeps them going. Cosmopolitan India speaks to a few of them, who shared what it truly means to be a queer athlete in India: Finding strength in the lows, holding onto hope in the highs, and navigating everything in between.

Anaya Banger - Cricketer and model | Transwoman

For cricketer and model Anaya Banger, her gender identity has shaped every part of her journey, both personally and professionally. She has always loved cricket and wanted nothing more than to follow in the footsteps of her father, Sanjay Banger. But playing on the boys’ team felt like living a double life. At eight, she would pick clothes from her mother’s closet, put them on, and feel more herself than ever. “Being a trans woman has been about reclaiming my body,” she says. “But it’s also been about rewriting the rules. Being trans in Indian sports means you’re constantly proving your legitimacy on and off the field. I wasn’t just playing to win—I was playing to exist, to be seen.” A quick scroll through her Instagram reveals a fighter. She’s been outspoken about her experience with hormone replacement therapy, her love for cricket, and the persistent misogyny and marginalisation she faces—whether it’s being misgendered by coaches or benched without reason. “The locker rooms, the language—it all reminds you this space wasn’t built for you. But I’ve realised that doesn’t mean I don’t belong. It means I’m here to rebuild it.” She advocates for a trans inclusion model grounded in medical transition timelines, hormone-based eligibility, and fairness across sports categories. “We need transparent, sport-specific policies for trans athletes, regular health and eligibility screenings—just like it is in other regulated sports—and institutional support for transitioning athletes’ mental health, training, and medical access,” she says. Ultimately, “At the end of the day, I just want everyone to know that we’re not trying to take anyone’s place—we’re fighting to earn our own. The discipline, the pain, the training—it’s the same, if not more. Being trans doesn’t make me less of an athlete.” Today, her dream of becoming a cricketer is more alive than ever. “I want to play for India’s women’s team because that’s where I’ve always belonged—even if the world couldn’t see it before. One day, I want to lift that World Cup not to prove anything, but to honour everything I’ve fought for.”

Aryan Pasha - Bodybuilder, activist, and lawyer |Transman

Born Nyla in 1991, Aryan Pasha always felt trapped in his body. “In my early years, competing in female categories felt misaligned with my true self, leading to internal conflicts and external scrutiny,” he says. So, at 16, when his mother told him about the possibility of gender-affirming surgery, he was elated. At 19, he underwent the surgery and found home in his new identity. His path, however, was far from easy. After a university in Delhi refused to admit him into an undergraduate programme, he enrolled at Mumbai University to study law and pursue bodybuilding. “Embracing bodybuilding allowed me to align my physical self with my identity, transforming my adversity into a platform for advocacy,” he says.

Navigating the Indian sports landscape as a transman has been a journey marked by both challenges and resilience. “The lack of awareness and acceptance of transgender identities in sports often meant facing exclusion and misunderstanding,” says Pasha. “There’s a pressing need for sports federations to establish clear, inclusive policies that recognise and support transgender athletes.” Still, he persevered. In 2018, he secured second place in the Men’s Physique category at Musclemania India (bodybuilding organisation). “It was a landmark achievement demonstrating that dedication and authenticity can transcend traditional barriers,” he says. While proud of the medal, he is even prouder of the ripple effect his story has created. “I’m proud of the conversations this journey has sparked. Each step forward challenges stereotypes and opens doors for others in the LGBTQIA+ community to pursue their passions without fear.” He believes that education and awareness campaigns are essential to dismantle misconceptions and foster a culture of acceptance. He uses his position as an athlete and his knowledge in law to pave the way for a more inclusive space.

Dutee Chand - Sprinter | Lesbian

She was the first to reach the final of the 100m event at a global youth athletics competition, became only the third woman to qualify for the Women’s 100-metre event at the Summer Olympic Games, and the first to win a gold at the Summer Universiade in 2019. Amongst many other firsts and accolades that will go down in the history of Indian sports, Dutee Chand is also India’s first openly gay athlete, determined to own her identity without fear.

“When I opened up about my sexual orientation, it was a tough time. It caused so much controversy about my personal life. People even started questioning my gender. People called me crazy. In India, there was never any conversation about same-sex relationships in general, forget about athletes who had a different sexual orientation. People never tried to understand, they only judged me,” says Chand, “But why should anyone live in fear to be themselves?” When Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code was decriminalised, she decided she wanted to be open about her sexual identity, “Because only when people start having conversation and protesting what is unjust, will there be any change in society,” she says.

What kept her going? “I hadn’t done anything wrong, and sports has always been a pillar of support and strength. When this controversy was going on, the president of our association called me up and said, ‘There is no rule that says if two girls love each other or two boys love each other, they can’t play the sport. So, don’t worry,’” she says. “People who play sports are doing it for the love of the game and the country. Sports doesn’t see religion, caste, or community. Aren’t we all, at the end of the day, humans? It’s as simple as that at the end of the day. We just need more systems in place to support athletes, no matter what their gender or sexual identity.”

Illustration by Anwesh Sahoo

This piece originally appeared in the May-June print edition of Cosmopolitan India.

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