Pride is a parade of expression. Fiercely being yourself, adorning your body maybe with a few embellishments. At the 18th edition of Chennai’s annual Self-Respect Pride March, there was a collective celebration of joy. There was also a collective stance against the recent The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Bill, 2026. Poet and activist Agni Pradeep wore a strapless white dress with a frayed and tattered hem, whose bodice read like a legal document. Her method of protest was the way she presented herself at the parade. The Bill was painted across the fabric, alongside a bright red reject stamp and an upside-down replica of the Indian emblem. “The government has failed to deliver justice to marginalised people. Instead of protecting our dignity, it continues to question our identities and leaves us vulnerable to constant judgement,” she says. For Agni, the outfit addressed the fundamental issue of identity.
Agni is known for experimenting with her creativity during the march. Last year, she wore a hand-painted sari with demands for horizontal reservation for the trans community. This year, she says, a lot of people were excited to see what she was coming up with. The concept of the dress took shape over weeks of conversation with friends and collaborators. The outfit was designed by Anto Lopez, the makeup and hairstyling were done by Shariff Ruxana, and the visual storytelling support was provided by Martin.
The practicality of carrying the outfit seamlessly mattered as much as the representation. Agni had to walk almost two kilometres in the outfit, and the team designed it keeping that in mind. The hand-painted detail on the dress was the work of visual artist Velumani, who spent between 15 to 18 hours on the piece across three to four days after finishing shifts at a corporate job. Velu says the emblem was the hardest part to get right. He worked with fabric paint on satin cotton, sketching each part via freehand drawing without tracing. “I suggested placing the reject stamp slightly off-centre instead of hiding it among the text. When people naturally move their hands while speaking or marching, the eye follows that movement,” he says.
Agni was also holding a placard depicting Ardhanarishvara, designed by artist and social worker Sanjai S. The artwork too responded directly to the Bill. The placard’s layout mimicked an official application form, with a portrait placed at its centre. Sanjai explains, “When I looked at the finished design, it reminded me of a missing-person poster. If someone is denied legal recognition through an identity card, who are they in society? They almost become invisible.” He chose the deity deliberately, pointing to the contradiction of a government that celebrates Ardhanarishvara in mythology while denying legal recognition to a lot of people in the community in practice. Sanjai says, “The debate around the amendment is often presented as though it affects only trans people. It doesn’t. At its core, it reflects a patriarchal belief that someone else has the authority to define another person’s life and identity. The same mindset also oppresses women, Dalits, Muslims, and every community that is expected to remain below someone else in the social hierarchy. Whenever power depends on deciding who deserves dignity and recognition, everyone is at risk.
He also painted BR Ambedkar onto a placard with rainbow shades, citing his lesser-known defence of RD Karve in the Bombay High Court in 1934 which showed that Ambedkar’s legal work extended beyond caste politics into questions of speech, sexuality, and social reform. For Sanjay, liberation cannot be divided into separate compartments. He says, “People often reduce Periyar to anti-caste politics, Marx to class politics, and Ambedkar to Dalit politics. I don’t agree with that. All three opposed systems of oppression. Wherever people were denied equality, dignity, or freedom, they stood with the oppressed. That is the tradition I wanted this artwork to honour.”
Agni has watched Chennai Pride grow. “Each year someone tells me that they have come with their friends or family. People increasingly feel that standing in solidarity with us is their responsibility. This year a gay participant recreated my last year outfit, filling it with his own demands. So, fashion can become a political tool,” Agni concludes.