Ex-IAS officer P Sivakami releases Dalit Women’s Manifesto 2026; Calls for land rights, economic autonomy in TN
Addressing safety and justice, the manifesto calls for the formation of a dedicated Dalit Women’s Protection Wing in every district under women IPS officers. CHENNAI: Releasing the ‘Dalit Women’s Manifesto 2026’ ahead of the state Assembly election, former IAS officer and convenor of the All India Forum for Women’s Intellect P Sivakami called for a rights-based framework to ensure economic sovereignty, social justice and political representation of the marginalised. The manifesto places emphasis on land rights, proposing the establishment of a High-Powered Land Recovery Commission within 100 days to retrieve encroached panchami lands. These land parcels, it states, will be redistributed to landless Dalit women and utilised through collective farming models, including through the formation of farmer-producer organisations exclusively led by women. Housing security also features prominently, with priority allocation of concrete houses or apartments for homeless women in Dalit settlements. In the economic sphere, the document proposes the creation of an “Iyothee Thass Women’s Bank” to offer collateral-free and zero-interest loans for micro-enterprises. It also envisages the transformation of Dalit habitations into agro-industrial hubs and 25% reservation for Dalit women in industrial land allotment by agencies such as Sipcot and Sidco. Addressing safety and justice, the manifesto calls for the formation of a dedicated Dalit Women’s Protection Wing in every district under women IPS officers. It also seeks fast-track courts to dispose of cases under the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act within six months and a fully funded legal aid mechanism allowing survivors to choose their advocates. Notably, it recommends that compensation for survivors of atrocities include guaranteed access to agricultural lands and sustainable livelihoods. On the education front, the manifesto proposes 100% government-funded international scholarships for Dalit women and digital skill vouchers covering emerging fields such as artificial intelligence (AI) and data science. S Kumaresan Courtesy : TNIE Note: This news is originally published on https:/thenewindianexpress.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Youth posing as transgender detained for stealing phone in Odisha’s Bhadrak
The accused allegedly stole a mobile phone from his pocket when he was asleep. The matter has raised concerns over safety at public places, especially during late hours. In a shocking incident, a youth was detained by police on Sunday in the Chandbali area of Odisha’s Bhadrak district for allegedly posing as a transgender and stealing a mobile phone from a youth while he was asleep at railway station. Theft at Railway Station According to the complaint, the incident occurred when the victim Bichitra Roul was resting at the station. The accused allegedly stole a mobile phone from his pocket when he was asleep. The matter has raised concerns over safety at public places, especially during late hours. “He stole my mobile phone for which I caught him and immediately informed my brother about it. I was sleeping at the station, when he (the accused) came and slept beside me. He took my bedsheet and went to sleep. When police officers informed us to keep our belongings safe, I woke up and when I searched my phone in my pocket, it was not there. When I asked him about the mobile, he tried to escape following which I caught him,” said victim Bichitra Roul. “He told me to give him money, accusing me of stealing the phone from his pocket,” said Manas Mohanty, youth posed as transgender. Disguise Used to Gain Trust Police sources said the accused is suspected of posing as a transgender person to gain people’s trust before carrying out such thefts. This aspect has shocked locals, as it indicates a calculated attempt to deceive victims. Following the complaint, police detained the accused and have launched an investigation. He is currently being interrogated to ascertain further details and any possible involvement in similar incidents. Bibhu Prasad Ray Courtesy : Odisha TV Note: This news is originally published on https:/odishatv.in/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Telangana Dalit professor branded as ‘urban naxal’ by propaganda machine
The ‘Save Education Committee,’ which is a forum of eminent academicians, has demanded an end to harassment of Professor Surepalli Sujatha, HOD, Sociology in Satavahana University Hyderabad: Brand a person as an urban naxal, spread the propaganda and socially isolate the person, only to finally take a hit when the person is in a vulnerable position. This seems to be the strategy being adopted by the ideological opponents of a Dalit professor and activist, who was stripped of her position as the principal of the Arts College in Satavahana University in Telangana’s Karimnagar. Professor Surepalli Sujatha has been a prominent face in the people’s movements in Telangana for over a decade and a half now. She has been known for her activism and social work for the cause of the downtrodden sections. A sociology professor, she grew up in academia at a time when universities were gasping for freedom on campuses. Today, her freedom is being curtailed in a changing political scenario where people like her are being branded as ‘urban naxals,’ a term which is an off-dictionary term that stands in contradiction to the traditional naxalite movements in India. Her brush with the propaganda brigade happened at a time when the Centre had been going all-out to eliminate Maoists from the face of India. It came in the form of a contract professor at Satahavana University in Karimnagar, where she has been working as the Head of the Sociology Department. Sujatha tells Siasat.com that it all started with her filing a complaint against Dr Penchala Srinivas, a former contract professor in Botany, for calling the female students in the middle of the night in 2019. She says that a disciplinary inquiry was conducted, and he was removed from service back then. She remembers that when she once took her students on a study tour to Bhadradri-Kothagudem district, propaganda spread that she introduced them to Maoist leaders, a rumour she vehemently rejects. MS Admissions Admissions 2026-27 “This allegation was thoroughly investigated by both the police authorities (under Sri Kamal Hasan Reddy) and the university, and was found to be completely untrue,” she claims. She accuses the contract professor of being the man behind the rumours, also pointing out that he is an ardent right-wing person who belongs to the Munnuru Kapu community and supports Union Minister of State for Home Affairs Bandi Sanjay’s Hindutva ideology. Bandi Sanjay represents the Karimnagar Lok Sabha constituency. She tells Siasat.com that ever since the study tour incident in 2019, she has been targeted frequently, with a section constantly hounding her on social media and on the campus- looking for her to make just one mistake. Call for peace became a headache for Dalit professor That perception changed following her Facebook post during Operation Sindoor in May 2025. In it, she suggested that war has never been a solution and that peace must prevail. However, her use of the word “blood” in reference to “sindoor” drew sharp backlash on social media, with many users attacking her over the remark. Subsequently, a group of Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP) members, along with some outsiders, barged onto the campus, hurled abuses at her and attempted to assault her. She narrowly escaped. She later issued an apology, stating that she regretted if her comments had hurt anyone’s sentiments, while maintaining her stand that peace should take precedence over war. She has kept a low profile since. Not just her, her student Mahesh, also a Dalit, is also a target. He completed his Master’s in Sociology and is pursuing a Master’s in Economics at the university. His association with the now-banned Telangana Vidyarthi Vedika (TVV) student organisation was seen as the cause of the target. When she lost her role as the principal, she was informed that it was because her term had ended. However, the propaganda machine continued to work tirelessly. It has been so rigorous that the newly appointed vice-chancellor Professor Umesh Kumar is also under its influence. “The contract faculty who was removed was reinstated as a part-time faculty member by the new vice-chancellor. He continued his propaganda,” she tells Siasat.com. She claims that she is constantly monitored through CCTV cameras on the campus, and if a student speaks to her, the student faces consequences. She also filed a complaint with the local police and the National Commission for Scheduled Castes (NCSC) earlier this month. She has been waiting for some action. Academicians demand Dalit professor be reinstated The ‘Save Education Committee,’ which is a forum of eminent academicians, has demanded an end to the harassment of Surepalli Sujatha. “Despite possessing all the necessary qualifications and experience, the removal of a Dalit woman professor, who is also serving as the Dean and holding additional responsibilities as the Principal of the Arts College, is an act of vindictiveness,” the Committee stated in a press release on Thursday, April 9. “It is not appropriate for the Vice-Chancellor, who is responsible for safeguarding university autonomy, academic freedom, and freedom of expression, to remain silent on this issue. “At a time when commercialisation, excessive centralisation, and communalisation of education are increasing, the university administration has the responsibility to ensure that such incidents- especially the harassment of a professor from marginalised sections, particularly a woman professor must not recur,” the Committee demanded. They urged the Vice-Chancellor to put an end to such baseless allegations, harassment, and vindictive actions and to protect the autonomy and academic environment. Ironically, Surepalli Sujatha is facing this at a time when the state government has just recently formed a cabinet sub-committee to work out the modalities of the Rohith Vemula Bill to prevent caste-based discrimination in university campuses. When asked how it was possible for the ideologically-motivated targeting usually done in the central universities to happen in a state government-run university like Satavahana University, Sujatha said that even she has been waiting for an answer to the same question. Posted by Vivek Bhoomi Courtesy : TSD Note: This news is originally published on https:/thesiasatdaily.com/bha and
Punjabi Dalit fiction is reaching an English audience at last. The book is called Gangrene
Dalit literature in India is usually tied to the Ambedkar-Phule revolutionary legacy and raw Marathi autobiographies. Now a new translation of Punjabi-Dalit stories shows caste as Punjab lives it. Navdeep Singh and Akshaya Kumar with a copy of Gangrene: Punjabi Dalit Short Stories, published last month by Penguin | Photo: Sakshi Mehra | ThePrint Navdeep Singh and Akshaya Kumar translated “Gangrene: Punjabi Dalit Short Stories” to bring nuanced Punjabi Dalit fiction to a national audience. Unlike more explicit Marathi Dalit literature, these stories explore subtle, diffused caste discrimination, identity struggles, and the enduring presence of caste in Punjab, even within Dalit communities, seeking wider recognition for this important literary tradition. *AI-generated summary. Check context in original text. Chandigarh and Jalandhar: During a visit to Panjab University, Navdeep Singh kept looking at the blue book in his hands as if it might disappear. The title is Gangrene: Punjabi Dalit Short Stories, a collection published by Penguin. The assistant professor at MR Government College in Fazilka has his name on the cover, along with that of Panjab University professor Akshaya Kumar. Yet, he is still unable to celebrate it. There is a disconnect between his academic world and his Mazhabi Dalit Sikh community in Firozpur’s Panjawa village. He has dedicated the book to his parents, but the question that haunts him is this: will the book mean anything to his community of mostly farm labourers? “I can’t fully grasp it. My parents don’t understand how big this is, and I don’t think I can quite explain it either. Maybe the next book I’m working on with Prof Akshaya will bring a sense of happiness and pride,” said the 28-year-old teacher of English literature, smiling anxiously as he sat in Kumar’s allotted quarter in Chandigarh. Gangrene brings fiction by writers such as Attarjit, Prem Gorkhi, Mohan Lal Phillauria, and Bhagwant Rasulpuri to a pan-India audience. Their stories explore what it means to be Dalit in a state where nearly a third of the population belongs to the community, but the literature has barely had any reach even within Punjab. We wanted to translate the works of Punjabi Dalit writers and bring them to a national audience. Even within the Punjabi Dalit literary landscape, these stories often struggle to find space. Yet the body of work is rich and robust, deserving a wider audience -Prof Akshaya Kumar Dalit writing in India is usually associated with Maharashtra — the raw, explosive autobiographies born from extreme deprivation and the Ambedkar-Phule revolutionary legacy. But Punjabi Dalit writing emerged from a very different terrain, influenced by agricultural abundance, the egalitarian ethos of Sikhism, Marxist thought, Dera culture, and the pre-independence Ad Dharmi socioreligious movement of the ‘untouchables’. In Punjab, the dominant social tension is not the typical “Brahmin versus Dalit” divide seen elsewhere in North India, but a conflict over land and power between dominant Jatts— classified as OBC nationally but General locally— and Dalits. “Punjab may lack the raw, in-your-face brutality seen elsewhere, but discrimination here is postponed and diffused, taking many forms,” said Kumar, who belongs to the Bania community and has lived in Chandigarh for 30 years. The subtle ways in which discrimination manifests in the state has lent itself particularly well to layered, sharply observed fiction rather than autobiographical outbursts. Here, oppression whispers through averted glances at communal wells, stolen wages, or the unequal flow of diaspora remittances. Since the 1970s, Punjabi Dalit writers have written about caste as it is lived, from exploitation in the village to alienation in the city. Attarjit’s Bathlu Chamiar is about a leatherworker in a village. Mohan Lal Phillauria’s Mochi da Put follows a man with a government job who tries to hide that he is a cobbler’s son. In Bhagwant Rasulpuri’s Roots, a man converts to Buddhism to escape caste but it doesn’t work as well as he had hoped. In contrast to portrayals by non-Dalits, such as Gurdial Singh’s 1964 novel Marhi da Deeva, which depicted Dalits as passive victims, these modern stories are infused with Ambedkarite consciousness and agency. They are also rooted in much older traditions of caste defiance—from the 17th-century warrior-poet Bhai Jaita, born into the Mazhabi community, whose epic Sri Gur Katha provided an account of the birth of the Khalsa to Giani Ditt Singh’s 19th-century polemics against caste hypocrisy. “Unlike Marathi Dalit literature, which mostly began in the 20th century as a response to extreme hardship, Punjabi Dalit writing has a much longer history,” said Rajkumar Hans, a historian and expert on Dalit studies, Punjabi literature, and Sikh history. “Punjabi Dalit stories and poems capture both subtle everyday oppression and broader social change, showing how the community has navigated inequality across generations.” No escaping caste? On the second floor of Bhagwant Rasulpuri’s spacious home in Jalandhar, rows of Punjabi books fill every wall. His wife and daughter are writers too, he says. Rasulpuri is one of Punjab’s most prominent Dalit literary voices. His day job is editing the Sunday edition of the daily Nawan Zamana, but he also runs Kahani Dhara, a quarterly Punjabi literary magazine he founded over a decade ago. It is in his writing, though, that he is most completely himself. Rasulpuri has written six short story collections and one novel over the course of 30 years, but it is relatively recently that wider recognition has come his way. His collection Delivery Man won a 2025 Dhahan Prize for Punjabi fiction, which took him to Surrey in Canada. The stories explore loneliness, displacement and gender struggles, including one in which a divorced female professor finds comfort with a delivery man. In 2017, one of his earlier stories was adapted into the acclaimed Punjabi film Chamm, about a Dalit slaughterhouse worker caught between his community’s leather-working traditions and the dominance of Jat landowners. The film also shows how some Dalits in the trade refuse to kill injured animals for money on ethical grounds. A persistent question runs through much of his work: can a person ever truly escape
Anil Kapoor and the rise of angry Dalit-Bahujan hero
Bollywood shows Dalit-Bahujan characters as helpless victims. Recent film ‘Subedaar’ is an act of resistance. Anil Kapoor’s film *Subedaar* is a significant shift in Indian cinema, portraying a Dalit-Bahujan protagonist as a powerful, angry mainstream action hero. Traditionally, Dalit characters have been depicted as helpless or needing saviors. *Subedaar* breaks this mold by showing a marginalized character actively fighting feudal oppression and caste discrimination, signaling a democratizing trend in Bollywood narratives. Recall the visceral frustration of Inspector Vijay Khanna in Zanjeer or Samar Pratap Singh in Shool. These iconic figures were fearless, determined to dismantle the local mafia through an indiscriminate use of righteous violence. It was a powerful fist of fury that the audience admired as it was meant to dislodge the corrupt-criminal authority of the villain. In both Amitabh Bachchan’s Zanjeer (1973) and Manoj Bajpayee’s Shool (1999), India’s semi-urban sites were presented as caste-neutral. At the very least, they relegated the socially vulnerable castes to a poor, helpless mass devoid of agency. To contest such depressing terrain, the macho heroic figures would overtly demonstrate their social elite identity, and often perform to retain the hegemonic domination of the ruling elites over cultural and political spheres. Ironically, very few filmmakers have explored the possibility of presenting a similar hero marching from a Dalit-Bahujan social background. Historically, Dalit characters in Indian cinema fall into one of three tropes: the helpless victim of feudal atrocity (Damul, 1985), the violated body (Bandit Queen, 1994), or the individual incapable of achieving justice without a savarna saviour (Article 15, 2019). While films such as Manjhi (2015) and Newton (2017) have introduced more nuanced Dalit protagonists, they often lack the heroic agency or the mainstream charisma of a traditional Bollywood action star. Anil Kapoor’s recent film, Subedaar, in this context, is a significant alteration. It elevated the idea of social subalternity by imagining that a downtrodden character can perform like a mainstream hero and emerge victorious. Director Suresh Triveni’s film is thus a robust act of resistance against the conventional norms associated with popular cinema’s macho hero. While it retains the grit and tension of the classic action genre, it distinguishes itself creatively through a lens of dense social realism, capturing the entrenched caste and communal entanglements. Subedaar offers a subtle subaltern protagonist, embedded in the caste-driven oppressive structure, but ready to dismantle it through his gutsy style and heroic anger. Caste identities in the film are coded in cultural symbols, tonalities, and expressions that the audience has to dissect. Distinct from earlier films that portrayed Dalit characters with stereotypical notions, this film invites the audience to apply its intelligence. In the landscape of feudal oppression Set against the rugged ravines of Chambal, the narrative unfolds in a mofussil town gripped by a sand mafia led by Babli Didi (Mona Singh) and her psychopathic brother Prince (Aditya Rawal). Their characters personify rabid feudal-caste arrogance, exploiting the marginalised poor with impunity. While this trope is a staple of popular masala genre (from Sholay to China Gate) as well as parallel cinema (Damul, Paar, Mirch Masala), Subedaar revisits the formula with nuanced cultural symbolism, offering a refreshing socio-political twist. Kapoor portrays the titular Subedar Arjun Maurya, a restrained but angry retired soldier who joins his daughter after the death of his wife. Maurya and his daughter Shyama (Radhika Madan) are harassed and humiliated by two distinct sets of villains, showcasing how the criminal mafia and feudal order of the town make the life of poor inhabitants precarious. Maurya faces overt abuses, harassment, and mocking by mafia leader Prince, while his daughter faces sexual violence for asserting her individuality. Such brutal context legitimises the emergence of an angry hero. The father-daughter duo refuses to play a submissive role, fearlessly challenges the goons, and after a bloody struggle, defeats the feudal lords. At the outset, the film appears to be a regular action flick. But its portrayal of feudal arrogance, subtle anecdotes about caste-based inequalities, and veiled reference to the practice of untouchability, suggest that the director is critically reflecting upon the social demography of the region. He is making a political statement. For example, a pivotal subplot involves a second-hand Jeep that is severely damaged by the goons. The vehicle is a gift from Maruya’s deceased wife, intended to provide him a dignified presence in the city. In the context of the self-respect movement, the ownership of a vehicle by a Dalit man is a potent symbol of mobility and the reclamation of public space, often disliked by the conservative social elites. In scattered episodes, the audience sees the mocking and damage done to the Jeep by the villains, because they see Maurya as unworthy of owning one. The Dalit-Bahujan subplot The choice of the surname “Maurya” is crucial. In the political milieu of North India, Maurya is a popular Dalit-Bahujan identity often associated with a burgeoning defiance of Dalits against elite domination. In the web series Mirzapur (2018), Inspector RS Maurya (Amit Sial) is a complex Dalit character who cunningly hobnobs with powerful elites while facing caste-based discrimination. In Subedaar, while the protagonist’s social identity is never explicitly mentioned, it is etched into the film using silent symbols and anecdotes to suggest his secluded caste location and powerlessness. A telling scene involves Prince beating a vulnerable woman and then washing his hands. It represents a ritualistic performance of “purity” versus “pollution” by Brahmanical elites. Furthermore, Prince’s act of urinating on Maurya’s Jeep mirrors real-world caste atrocities. In another sequence, we see an abandoned and depleted Dalit village that gives shelter to the fugitive protagonists, endorsing the director’s intent to portray social realities. A mainstream Dalit hero Subedaar investigates caste and gender as intersecting axes of oppression. By defying the conventional portrayal of marginalised groups as powerless victims, the film grants them the agency to defeat their oppressors through their angry power and physical strength. The father-daughter duo performs like popular heroes as they are pushed to the brink by systemic corruption and harassment. Maurya, like any
Supreme Court Lets Transwoman Apply for Delhi Government Teacher Recruitment, Seeks Response On Wider Plea
The Supreme Court of India has granted interim relief to a transgender applicant while agreeing to examine systemic gaps in public recruitment. In a significant step toward inclusive employment, the Supreme Court of India on April 10, 2026, permitted a transwoman, Jane Kaushik, to apply for teacher recruitment in Delhi government schools under the “transgender” category. A bench of Justices J.B. Pardiwala and K.V. Viswanathan issued notices to the Delhi government and the DSSSB after Kaushik revealed that the recruitment portal restricted applicants to “male” or “female” binaries. The Court has now agreed to examine her larger plea for a comprehensive recruitment policy and separate vacancies for transgender persons in public employment, ensuring their constitutional rights aren’t reduced to a “dead letter.” Breaking the Binary: A Fight for Representation The petitioner, Jane Kaushik a highly qualified educator with degrees in Political Science and Education approached the apex court highlighting the “grossly apathetic attitude” of state institutions. Despite the landmark 2014 NALSA judgment, the Delhi Subordinate Services Selection Board (DSSSB) portal continued to exclude non-binary identities. During the hearing, Justice Pardiwala noted that while Kaushik was registered as a transgender person, she was physically unable to submit applications for specific teaching posts. “You are absolutely right,” the bench remarked to Kaushik’s counsel, reviving a previous interim relief that allows her to apply for any vacancy of her choice, regardless of the gender mentioned in the advertisement. This legal battle follows years of systemic hurdles; Kaushik was previously forced to resign from a school in Uttar Pradesh and denied a role in Gujarat due to her gender identity. While the Supreme Court had established an advisory committee in October 2025 to draft an “Equal Opportunity Policy,” Kaushik argued that an advisory body lacks the adjudicatory power to protect individual fundamental rights. Her plea seeks more than just a job; it demands a dedicated recruitment framework, including age relaxations and specific vacancies, to prevent transgender candidates from “aging out” of the system while waiting for bureaucratic wheels to turn. The Logical Indian’s Perspective At The Logical Indian, we believe that true progress is measured not by the laws we write, but by the dignity we afford to our most marginalised citizens. It is disheartening that over a decade after the NALSA verdict, a qualified educator must still knock on the doors of the highest court just to fill out a job application. Employment is more than a livelihood; it is a tool for social integration and self-respect. We urge the Delhi government and the Union to move beyond “committees” and implement a recruitment policy that reflects the diverse reality of our society. A classroom led by a transgender teacher is not just a win for employment it is a lesson in empathy and coexistence for the next generation. Sandipta Ghosh Courtesy : TLI Note: This news is originally published on https:/thelogicalindian.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Identity On Trial: Constitutional Debate On Transgender Rights In India
In recent weeks, a familiar yet unsettled question has returned to discussion: who has the authority to define identity? For transgender people, it is not merely a discussion, but one that shapes their access to education, employment, and ultimately, dignity. The marginalisation of transgender persons has been consistent, as society confines them to roles of entertainment and cultural bridges. Moreover, the recent amendments to the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019 have raised several questions regarding the dignity, opportunities, and welfare of the transgender community. Constitutional Foundation It was held in NALSA v. Union of India by the Supreme Court of India that every person has the right to self-identify their gender. This means that gender identity is based on the personal autonomy and dignity of an individual. The identification of one’s gender is independent of any medical or surgical intervention. Self-identification is thus recognised and protected as a part of fundamental rights. This principle flows from Article 14 of the Constitution, which guarantees equality before the law to all persons. The Court expanded its scope to include transgender persons, emphasising their entitlement to substantive equality. Further, Article 19(1)(a) has been interpreted to include the right to express one’s gender identity through behaviour, self-presentation, and appearance—recognising gender expression as constitutionally protected. Additionally, Article 21, as affirmed in Justice K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India, guarantees dignity, autonomy, and privacy. Gender identity, being central to personhood, falls within this protection. In Navtej Singh Johar v. Union of India, the Court reinforced that constitutional morality must prevail over social morality, strengthening identity-based rights. Taken together, the constitutional position is clear: self-identification is not merely a policy choice, but a right firmly grounded in dignity, equality, and autonomy under the Constitution. The Amendment and Its Implications The Supreme Court’s landmark judgment of 2014 in National Legal Services Authority (NALSA) v. Union of India transformed transgender rights in India by recognising gender identity as a constitutional right based on equality, dignity, and autonomy. It also directed the government to provide reservations—an aspect that still largely remains on paper—and to implement other welfare measures for the third gender. However, the recent amendment to the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019, which aims to maintain dignity and protect rights, is being opposed by the transgender community, as it is seen to undermine the right to self-identity—where a person could identify as transgender based on self-perceived identity. Under these changes, a medical process is involved in verifying identity before certification by the District Magistrate, as was the case earlier. This approach contradicts the Supreme Court’s NALSA judgment, which clearly held that no compulsory medical procedure is required for the self-identification of a transgender person. While the amendment recognises traditional identities such as Hijra and Kinner, it narrows the scope of individual self-identification, potentially excluding those identified outside these community-based categories. From a technical standpoint, the amendment introduces three key changes. Firstly, it dilutes the principle of self-identification, central to prior jurisprudence. Second, it mandates medical or administrative certification, reinforcing external scrutiny. Third, it adopts a restrictive definition, limiting inclusivity. Thus, the amendment sits at the intersection of state regulation and individual rights, raising important constitutional questions. Constitutional Tensions & Social Impact The recent amendment raises a critical constitutional issue within the broader framework—whether Parliament can impose conditions that dilute judicially recognised fundamental rights. In NALSA v. Union of India, the Supreme Court held that self-identification of gender is integral to Articles 14, 19, and 21. However, the amendment’s requirement of medical or administrative certification shifts this right from self-determination to state validation, creating a doctrinal conflict with established principles. While Parliament has the authority to legislate, such measures are generally assessed against the standard of reasonableness and proportionality. As noted in Justice K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India and Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India, state action should be proportionate and balanced with individual rights. Thus, the amendment reflects an evolving balance between state regulation and individual rights, and may shape future constitutional interpretation. The authentication process under the medical board raises concerns regarding the dignity of transgender people, as they are required to undergo verification of their gender identity. From a humane perspective, this process may involve the examination of physical or medical characteristics by the medical board, which can amount to a violation of their dignity and fundamental rights. However, there is no such mandatory procedure for individuals identifying as male or female, whose gender identity is generally accepted without scrutiny. As held in the NALSA judgment, the Supreme Court categorically stated that self-identification of gender is a fundamental right, and that no medical or surgical requirement can be imposed as a precondition for legal recognition. Reform or Regression? The amendment raises a critical policy debate: can the State subject gender identity to institutional verification, overlooking the constitutional guarantees of dignity and autonomy? The State argues that mandatory gender verification by a medical board is necessary to prevent the misuse of benefits. However, this raises a pertinent question: why would a person, whose gender identity is already socially and legally recognised, choose to identify as transgender merely to access welfare benefits? Critics argue that such regulation comes at the cost of constitutional values. By requiring medical or administrative validation, the amendment shifts identity from a fundamental right towards a status approved by the State. This raises concerns of gatekeeping, where access to legal recognition becomes dependent on institutional criteria. There is also a broader concern regarding exclusion. The narrower definition of “transgender” may risk marginalising non-binary individuals, which appears inconsistent with the inclusive approach in NALSA v. Union of India and reinforced in Navtej Singh Johar v. Union of India. This debate ultimately revolves around a deeper constitutional question—whether the State’s interest in regulation justifies intrusion into aspects of personal identity. It is not merely a question of policy design, but of constitutional principle: whether identity is to be recognised by the State or regulated by it. A sound path, grounded in
Policing the Self: A Law That Subjects Transgender Identity to Certification and Surveillance
A democratic law on transgender rights would begin by trusting the person—recognising self-identification without bureaucratic mediation The 2026 amendment shifts transgender identity from a matter of self-determination to state certification, deepening bureaucratic control and surveillance. It conflicts with Supreme Court jurisprudence affirming dignity, privacy, and self-identification, particularly in NALSA and subsequent landmark rulings. By narrowing definitions and excluding “self-perceived sexual identities,” the law reflects an ideological push toward fixed, state-sanctioned identities. The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Act, 2026, is being projected as a measure for protection and clarity. In substance, however, it does something more sinister: it recasts transgender existence as a matter to be policed, certified, monitored, and ideologically contained. It does not proceed from the premise that gender identity is a domain of personal autonomy protected by the Constitution. Rather, it proceeds from suspicion. It imagines the transgender person not as a rights-bearing citizen but as a problematic social figure requiring state management. In this sense, the Act is not merely flawed legislation. It is the legal expression of a deeper political morality—one that is profoundly consonant with the Hindutva project of enforcing a disciplined social order built around fixed identities, patriarchal family norms, and suspicion of all forms of embodied difference. On the one hand, this case brings forward certain issues regarding the position of the US on the international arena, namely whether the country can still play an influential role or if it is now experiencing the period when its decisions are doubted. – Anupam Sai The 2026 amendment must be read alongside the already discredited architecture of the 2019 Act. The original Act had been widely criticised for violating the very principles the Supreme Court had affirmed in National Legal Services Authority v. Union of India (NALSA), where the Court held that gender identity is rooted in self-identification and is inseparable from dignity, liberty, and equality. The amendment does not cure that foundational defect. If anything, it sharpens it. It tightens the state’s hold over identity and, in doing so, reveals the ideological discomfort that the present regime has with the transgender concept itself. What is especially alarming is the amendment’s move to remove the Act’s broader definition of “transgender person” and instead list categories of persons included, while explicitly stating that the law does not include, and never included, persons with “different sexual orientations and self-perceived sexual identities.” PRS Legislative Research notes this as one of the Act’s key changes. The same summary also notes that the Act makes a revised certificate mandatory after surgery and requires the medical institution to furnish information about such surgery to the District Magistrate. This is not mere drafting. It is an attempt to redraw the field of legitimate gender identity in a way that makes it narrower, more surveillable, and more governable. At the heart of the constitutional problem lies a very simple question: who owns identity? In a constitutional democracy, identity belongs to the person. In this Act, identity belongs to the state. The core vice of the amendment is that it remains fundamentally incompatible with the doctrine of self-identification laid down by the Supreme Court. In NALSA, the Court recognised the right of persons to determine their gender identity as male, female, or third gender, and treated that right as intrinsic to dignity and freedom. Later constitutional developments only strengthened this logic. In Puttaswamy, privacy was recognised as including decisional autonomy and bodily integrity; in Navtej Johar, the Court held that identity, orientation, dignity and intimacy cannot be subordinated to majoritarian morality. The Court also made clear that constitutional rights cannot depend on social approval, and that constitutional morality must prevail over popular or sectarian moral codes. The amendment stands against this entire constitutional trajectory. It does so first by preserving the logic that identity must be mediated by official certification, and second by deepening the state’s role in tracking bodily transition. Even before this amendment, the 2019 framework had been criticised for forcing transgender persons into a bureaucratic recognition regime under the District Magistrate. The draft rules had gone so far as to require a psychologist’s report and residency proof, until criticism forced some softening. PRS had pointed out that such requirements were incompatible with self-perceived identity and especially burdensome for a community often facing homelessness, ostracism and unstable residence. A member of Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender and Queer (LGBTQ) community wearing a t-shirt that reads “Yes, we exist India” as seen outside August Kranti Maidan, celebrating 16 years of the official pride march in Mumbai. The rainbow flag signifies joy but the march remains a protest at its core demanding the fundamental rights still denied to the LGBTQ community in India. – null The amendment intensifies the same logic by making revised certification mandatory after surgery and by requiring the medical institution to report the surgery to the District Magistrate. That move is constitutionally indefensible. It converts one of the most intimate dimensions of personhood into a matter of administrative reporting. It effectively deputises hospitals into a surveillance chain. It assumes that the state has a legitimate interest in being notified when a person’s body changes in ways relevant to their gender identity. That is not protection. That is biopolitical supervision. No comparable burden is imposed on cisgender citizens to establish or continually validate the coherence between their body, identity and state records. The transgender citizen alone is made to pass through documentary and institutional checkpoints. That asymmetry offends Article 14 not only because it is unequal, but because it is irrationally unequal. It burdens a vulnerable class precisely in the domain where the Constitution demands maximum protection. The amendment is equally vulnerable under Article 21. Gender identity is not an external administrative category like land ownership or vehicle registration. It is bound up with selfhood, bodily autonomy, dignity, privacy, and the right to live without humiliation. A law that allows the state to mediate or monitor this sphere invades the core zone of decisional autonomy that the Court has
Attempt to Encroach on Land Under Court Stay: Dalit Woman and Family Attacked in Para; Casteist Abuses Hurled
In the Para police station area of Lucknow, an attempt was made to forcibly encroach upon a plot of land, despite a standing court order to the contrary. When this attempt was resisted, a Dalit woman and her family were attacked. The incident occurred on Wednesday morning, around 9:00 AM, near the Kamakhya Temple in the village of Para. Mayawati Gautam, a member of a Scheduled Caste community, has alleged that several named accused individuals—along with approximately 100 unidentified persons—arrived at her land in multiple vehicles, disguised as lawyers. According to the victim, the accused had arrived with a premeditated plan and immediately began attempting to take possession of the land. When Mayawati Gautam objected to their actions, the accused began verbally abusing her, using derogatory casteist slurs. As the altercation escalated, the accused assaulted Mayawati Gautam, her widowed daughter, and her younger son, beating them with sticks and clubs. All members of the family sustained serious injuries in this attack. Mayawati Gautam has further alleged that as the attackers were leaving the scene, they issued death threats to the entire family. The land at the center of this dispute is currently the subject of a pending legal case in court. A “status quo” order—mandating that the existing state of affairs regarding the property be maintained—is currently in force. The attempt to encroach upon the land, in blatant disregard of the court’s directive, is being viewed as a serious criminal offense. Several individuals have been named as accused in this case. Additionally, the involvement of approximately 100 unidentified persons is also under suspicion. The Assistant Commissioner of Police (ACP) for Kakori stated that an investigation into the matter is underway and that appropriate legal action will be taken. Yuvraj Gautam | Banthra (Sarojininagar), Lucknow Courtesy: Hindi News
Dalit Widow in Mulnapur Accuses Lekhpal: Case of Encroachment on Disputed Land; Appeals to DM for Justice
In Mulnapur village—located in Utraon, Handia (Prayagraj)—a Dalit widow has leveled serious allegations against a *Lekhpal* (revenue official). The woman claims that the *Lekhpal*, acting in collusion with the opposing party, is facilitating the encroachment upon her disputed land. According to the aggrieved woman, Geeta Devi, there is a plot of land situated near her home, the ownership of which is currently sub judice (pending) in court. It is alleged that, through the connivance of the *Lekhpal* and the *Kanungo* (senior revenue official), the opposing party is making persistent attempts to seize control of this disputed land. Geeta Devi further stated that the opposing party—who belong to the Yadav community—are subjecting her to verbal abuse and physical assault. When contacted regarding this matter, *Lekhpal* Mithilesh Pandey stated that an investigation into the case is currently underway. He added that once the investigation is complete, the land will be remeasured, and the matter will be resolved. In light of these events, the aggrieved woman has written letters to the District Magistrate (DM) and the Police Commissioner, appealing to them for justice. Brijesh Kumar Gautam | Baudai (Phulpur), Prayagraj (Allahabad) Courtesy: Hindi News