Certified identity: Now available with government approval

There’s a certain ease with which this government functions now. Not the kind that comes from getting things right, but the kind that comes from knowing you can go ahead even when people directly affected are clearly saying ‘no’.

The Trans Amendment Bill is being framed as something meant to protect. That word keeps coming up. Protection. Structure. Clarity. It sounds reassuring until you look at who is actually asking for it. Trans people across the country have been protesting this bill. Not quietly, not in small numbers, but consistently. When the very group a law claims to help is pushing back this strongly, it should at least slow things down. It hasn’t.

So, what is this really about? Because it doesn’t feel like rights. It feels like control, just presented more politely.

The NALSA judgment had already settled something important. It said that self-identification is a right. It did not leave room for interpretation. It did not say this right depends on approval from an authority. It recognised that people have the ability to define themselves. That should have been the baseline going forward. Instead, what we are seeing now looks like a quiet return to gatekeeping. The language has changed, but the instinct hasn’t. There is still a need to verify, to check, to decide from above.

Nothing dramatic is being announced. That’s part of the problem. It’s small shifts. A requirement added here. A process introduced there. Slowly, a right begins to look like something you have to earn.

And then, at the same time, there’s the move to take away Scheduled Caste status from those who convert to Christianity or Islam. On paper, it is presented as a correction. In reality, it sends a very specific message. Rights are not stable. They depend on where you stand and what boxes you tick. Move out of those boxes and things can change quickly.

Put these together and a pattern becomes hard to ignore. Identity itself is being tightened. Whether it is caste, religion, or gender, the direction is the same. Everything must be made clear, fixed, easy to classify. Anything that does not fit neatly becomes something the state feels the need to manage.

What stands out most is the absence of hesitation. There was a time when decisions like this came with visible caution. There would be an effort to manage backlash, to respond to criticism, to at least appear concerned. That layer seems thinner now. The assumption appears to be that resistance will not carry enough weight to matter.

For trans people, this is not new. The pattern keeps repeating. Recognition is offered, but it comes with conditions. Support is promised, but it is tied to scrutiny. You are included, but only after proving yourself in ways that others are never asked to. Over time, it wears people down. Not just politically, but in very personal ways.

It also produces a certain kind of response. Sarcasm becomes a way to cope with the absurdity – that you may be punished for speaking the truth (UAPA?). When something that harms you is presented as help, reacting sincerely starts to feel pointless. You cannot exactly say ‘thank you’. Staying silent does not sit right, either. So, what remains is that sharp edge of humour that comes from being tired of explaining the obvious.

At the same time, there is no confusion here. The community has been clear. The opposition has been clear. Even the Supreme Court has indicated where this stands in relation to the NALSA judgment. Moving ahead despite all of this is not an accident. It is a decision.

And yet, people will continue to live as they are. They will find ways to exist, to build spaces, to name themselves on their own terms. Laws can try to define identity, but they have never fully managed to contain it.

What this moment really shows is something quite simple. The state is increasingly comfortable deciding whose identity counts, whose identity comes with conditions, and whose can be pushed aside.

The writer is a queer activist and theatre artist