By Someone Who’s Been in Love, in Autos, and in a Constant State of Queering the Public Space.
Being queer in Delhi is a masterclass in finding joy in small moments and safe corners. It’s crafting intimacy in hostel rooms, public parks, cafés, open mics… while always carrying a metaphorical (and sometimes literal) exit plan.
This city, with its contradiction of queer-themed fests and moral policing, Pride parades and landlords’ raised eyebrows, is both a playground and an obstacle course. And yet, queer couples find ways to love — stubbornly, sweetly, and sometimes sneakily.
So here’s a not-so-exhaustive but deeply lived list of what queer couples actually do in Delhi — the soft, the sensual, the strategic, and everything in between.
Long Metro Rides with No Destination
Public transport is cheap, air-conditioned, and gives you 45 minutes of thigh-touching, hand-holding, quiet conversations, nodding off on each other’s shoulders — with a view of Delhi speeding by and no questions asked.
Staring at Each Other Instead of the Museum Exhibit
Whether it’s the National Gallery of Modern Art or Kiran Nadar Museum, let’s be honest — we came for the art, stayed for the stolen glances and the kind of silence that feels like home.
Film Screenings and Poetry Open Mics
From indie films at India Habitat Centre to anti-caste cafés hosting queer poetry nights — it’s love, colourful eyeliner, and resistance all rolled into one. Bonus: free snacks if you pretend to be a student.
Kissing in the Back of Autos Like It’s a Coming-of-Age Film
Because autos don’t judge, they just rattle and swerve. And for a few magical minutes, you’re cocooned in a moving bubble where the city fades and love gets a front seat.
Momo-Fueled Romance in Majnu-Ka-Tila
Slurping thukpa, buying bootleg K-Dramas, and walking hand-in-hand past fairy-lit shops — queer joy lives in the details. Bonus points for spotting other sapphic couples mid-date.
Sharing a Flat, a Hostel Room, or a “Just Roommates” Life
Love doesn’t always scream — sometimes it whispers through laundry drying together, midnight snacks, and being able to exist around each other without ever needing to explain.
Attending Queer Fests and Pride — Then Quietly Folding Up the Flag
You dress bold, speak louder, and feel visible. And the minute it ends, you pack away the rainbow pin, throw on a jacket, and become a watered-down version of yourself to pass through the world safely.
Romanticizing Lodhi Garden — Then Realizing It’s Full
Marketed as the go-to spot for couples, but every hideaway nook is already occupied (often loudly) by straight couples. So you improvise: a holding-hands walk, a shared snack, a memory.
Giving Talks on Queer Theory with an Escape Route in Mind
You’ve presented papers on gender and visibility — but your exit is quiet, maybe covered in a dupatta or a lower gaze, in case someone’s watching more than just the ideas.
Carrying a Stole, a Jacket, a Back-Up Identity
You leave home as your full, queer self — rings, liner, pronouns intact. But by the time you reach your bus stop in a conservative part of town, you’ve de-queered just enough to pass through unnoticed.
Being “Just Friends” in Public, But Galaxies in Private
People smile and say, “You two are so close!” or “Are you cousins?” You smile back, knowing you’ve built something infinite under the radar. And maybe that’s safer. Maybe that’s enough — for now.
Dreaming Loud in Safe Spaces, Whispering Outside Them
You build whole queer utopias in green rooms, bedroom floors, rooftop protests. But outside, you walk apart. Just a little. Just enough to stay unremarkable.
Being queer in Delhi is a balancing act. It’s equal parts resistance and retreat, intimacy and invisibility. But somehow, queer folks still build love here — honest, radical, deeply soft love — tucked into metro seats, between momo dates, and under rainbow flags folded with care.
If you’ve lived it, you know. And if you haven’t — maybe now you do.
About the Author:
Madhu (she/her) has been an avid reader of all things spicy since her childhood. She writes sassy blog posts and listicles now so that others may benefit from her wholly inappropriate, wholly informative tastes, too.
