Come June; Come Pride. And the first thing to arrive always is the sound.
The steady beat of the parai rolled through the streets before giving way to pulsating DJ tracks. Then came the shrill cries of kolavai, followed by cheers, chants, laughter, and rainbow flags fluttering against the skyline of Egmore. By the time the 18th Chennai Pride Walk set off from Rajarathinam Stadium on Sunday, the streets had transformed into a vibrant spectacle where celebration and resistance found common ground, yet again.
Beneath the glitter, sequins, and dancing, the Pride Walk remained what it has always been — a march for dignity, equality, and the freedom to simply exist without hatred.
The procession opened with one of its most poignant moments. Parent allies inaugurated the walk, holding placards that read “Proud Parent Ally”. Their presence was a quiet but powerful reminder that allyship often begins at home, long before it reaches the streets. Among them were Prathibha and Varadarajan, who have been attending Chennai Pride for the past six or seven years. For them, returning every year is about making acceptance ordinary. “For us, coming to the Pride Walk is showing solidarity with the community and reaffirming what we stand for as parents — that we love our children, no matter what,” said Prathibha, a rainbow parent. “This is our way of bringing visibility. Hopefully, when other parents see us, they will think this is normal. We are your regular, average parents, and if we can do this, every household can see this as normal. That’s my hope.”
For Varadarajan, the annual walk has also become a measure of how society has evolved. “I think Tamil Nadu has been quite progressive. The legislature, the police, and the administrative machinery have been more supportive. I do wish that, at the Union level, the laws enacted are more favourable. But as a society, I have seen more parents coming in and more acceptance,” he said.
Even inclusion found new meaning this year. For the first time, a sign language interpreter accompanied one of the procession vehicles, making the walk more accessible and reinforcing that Pride belongs to everyone.
Placards demanding action punctuated the sea of rainbow flags. “Give us seats in workplaces and legislatures,” “Homophobia has a cure: Education”, and “Honour the 2014 NALSA judgement” called attention to unfinished conversations. The community also presented nearly 21 demands to the newly elected State government, including horizontal reservation, gender-neutral washrooms in public places, and corporate social responsibility initiatives, while expressing hope that the new State government would continue the progress made by previous governments.
Further down the procession, the mood shifted from quiet reassurance to vocal assertion. Almost spontaneously, a lone participant chanted, “I’m gay and that’s okay... I’m queer and that’s okay.” Within moments, dozens joined in, their voices echoing through the procession in an impromptu chorus of affirmation.
Strike a pose
Fashion and maximalism, long synonymous with the community, doubled as protest. Agni Pradeep, who drew attention last year for wearing a hand-painted sari featuring community demands and portraits of queer personalities, returned this year in a hand-painted Gazette-inspired outfit opposing the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Bill, 2026. Around them, participants proudly wore handmade creations painted with Pride flags, portraits, community symbols and messages of solidarity.
Among the artists showing their solidarity was Monisha, carrying what she described as her first canvas artwork. Inspired by the iconic image of Periyar burning the Constitution, she reimagined him burning the proposed transgender amendment.
“It is their own bodies. It is not easy to get the surgery and it is their choice. How can the government ask them to get surgery and remove their body parts?” she said. “Article 21 — the Right to Life — says they have to live their own lives. Nobody can interfere in that.”
Between the rainbow flags, handwritten placards, and chants of affirmation, the 18th Chennai Pride Walk became a reminder that Pride is as much about showing up for one another as it is about demanding change. Monisha echoes that exact message: “Whoever is against you, we will always be there for you. We won’t let anybody harm you so quickly and easily. We are always there for you.”
Stories that break barriers
Ina* (he/him, they/them)
I was obsessed with the idea that queerness was a role I had to play in a particular manner. Figuring out what it meant, along the way. Finding friends who have experienced it in a variety of formats, made me realise that it is just about going with the flow. A matter of defining what the word means to you, it is about fluidity, comfort, and balance. Seeing my friends authentically live their lives, without normative concerns that come with labels like “trans” and “bisexual”, inspired me to let go of the mental blocks I had, to exist freely. It became about having fun and dressing autonomously.”
Valor* (they/them) and Ocean* (she/her)
The former being a non-binary teenager attending their first pride parade in India with the latter, their mother (both of whom recently moved to India)
Valor: My mother always told me to be accepting and kind, to give as much as I take. Playing a significant role in my self-discovery and experimentation, coming out to her was not difficult, felt very natural. I love her, I’m so grateful for the effort she puts into being my rock.
Ocean: I lucked out! They realised who they were at 10. I want them to find people and be a rock to lean on. I will assist them to be self-reliant but after that, they must be a source of shade for everyone. We are both privileged…shaping each other, as we go.
Gayathri* (any pronouns)
The black sheep of my family, I was ostracised in my conservative household. When I moved to college, so many professors welcomed me with open arms. My pronouns, they accepted without a single thought or question — never imposing criteria to fit in a certain mould. It was the most liberating experience. They guided me without having to understand me. I’m leaving to do my PhD soon, in translation (around sexuality and gender), since it gives me a glance into how we don’t make choices in isolation. There are long histories behind us that I feel good to be a part of, while also not having to fit into a particular script.
Devam (he/him, they/them)
When I was still exploring (myself), I was dating a girl. I came out to her…and she became the first person to apply eyeliner on me. That moment on, my inhibitions crumbled and my confidence erupted like a volcano. Despite being an ex, she’s been my best friend for 9 years now. She is so close to me that she even maintains a friendship with my current partner. As a non-binary person, from UP, people I surround myself with have always supported me.
Aasha* (she/her)
When I told my sister I was bisexual, she quipped, ‘I knew something was “off” in the way you view men.’ More seriously, she was glad…often appreciating my dual perspective that made her rethink and question male behaviour. I remember her saying that she would always root for me, telling me she’d be the happiest person, if I dated a woman. Further elated by the thought of me potentially marrying one, she made her love so clear, that I teared up. As someone who grew up thinking I was a weirdo, her unconditional acceptance was just what I needed.
*Names changed
(Inputs by Jas Khubchandani)