As soon as Utkarsh Saxena heard that India’s Supreme Court was going to pronounce its verdict on legalising same-sex marriage, he knew he had to be prepared for the historic moment on October 17.
In the lead-up, he had been measuring his partner Ananya Kotia’s ring finger in his sleep.
He rushed to a jewellery store in Delhi to buy a ring to propose to his long-time partner outside the Supreme Court after what he thought would be a landmark judgment.
“The shopkeeper was very puzzled that I wanted two ‘king-size’ rings, instead of one king size for myself and a queen size for my partner – which he assumed would be a woman,” Utkarsh said with a smile.
“He kept telling me that I need a thinner ring for my female partner. I managed to buy two king-size rings despite his persuasion, and I kept them in my pocket before proceeding to the Supreme Court the next day.”
Hopes were high amongst millions of LGBTIQ people in India, who were banking on India’s top court to legalise same-sex marriage in the country.
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But their hopes came crashing down as the court left the ball in the government’s court to legislate on the matter.
“I was completely shattered and heartbroken. One of my best friends actually had flown in from Jordan to be with us at the court on the day of judgment. We had a lot of expectations from the court,” Ananya said.
Utkarsh and Ananya were two of the petitioners fighting for same-sex marriage. A judgment in their favour would have made India the second place in Asia, after Taiwan, to allow same-sex marriage.
“On our way back from the court, I put my hand in my pocket, took out the ring and told Ananya what my plan was,” Utkarsh said.
“He told me that I should have gone ahead with it anyway. But the truth is that we both felt quite low as the verdict wasn’t what we hoped for.”
But the next day Utkarsh picked up the phone and told Ananya they should do it regardless. They returned to the Supreme Court lawns where Utkarsh went down on one knee to propose to Ananya.
“That moment was both comical and special. People were just staring at us and wondering what in the world was going on there,” he said.
Homosexuality has had quite a journey in India. Gay sex was decriminalised in 2018 after years of campaigning, raising hopes for the country’s LGBTQ community.
A British colonial-era law called Section 377 in the Indian Penal Code (IPC) criminalised gay sex. Even as Britain decriminalised it in 1967, many of its erstwhile colonies continued to fight the legal battle to quash it.
Utkarsh believes that India’s queer rights movement is a decolonisation movement.
“It’s about us reclaiming our past heritage and breaking down outdated, British Victorian sensibilities that broke our tradition of openness and inclusivity,” he said.
“India has historically been the land of Kamasutra after all.”
Legalising same-sex marriages could have paved the way for them to have the same rights and benefits as heterosexual couples in India, like owning joint property, joint bank accounts, the right to adopt children, and even divorce.
But the ruling Hindu nationalist BJP government is opposed to the idea, saying that it would threaten “Indian family values”.
Even though the issue may not be a priority for the Indian government, the community isn’t giving up anytime soon, having filed a review petition in the same court.
“For a lot of my straight friends nowadays, deciding not to get married at all or have kids is an act of revolution. But for queer people, the fact that they have been denied this right for so long, is reason enough to do it,” said Utkarsh.
But marriage is not the most important thing for the couple — they are more interested in the right to adopt that comes with the right to marry in India.
“We really want to start a family. I really want to be a dad. I cannot explain how frustrating it is that we aren’t allowed to do it as partners,” Utkarsh said.
“We believe that we would be great parents.”
Ananya said a wedding ceremony would just be another celebration of their companionship of 15 years.
“We would have been married for 12 years now because we knew within 2-3 years of our relationship that we had found our soulmates in each other. A wedding ceremony would give so much happiness to our families in India because it matters a lot to them,” he said.
The two met in college in Delhi and bonded over conversations on Indian politics and news. They found validation for their sexuality in each other and kept their relationship a secret for years before they could muster the courage to come out to their families and friends.
Now, they are pursuing PhD in the UK and visit India whenever there is an important court proceeding in the fight for same-sex marriage.
For the upper-middle-class couple, there was always the option of legally getting married and having a family outside of India.
But Indian food makes it hard for them to make that choice.
“India has a sense of belonging that no other place does. We are big foodies. We absolutely love Indian food,” Utkarsh said.
“If we ever have a wedding ceremony, you would probably find Ananya at the kachori counter … also, importantly, we want to be grounded in home as this battle of queer rights is crucial to us.
“We want to stay in India and fight this battle. We respect the current court verdict, but we will be back in the same court another day to fight for marriage equality.”