Specially written for Vikalp Sangam
“I have known that I was gay from a very young age. I just didn’t know the words or understand it until I came to Port Blair,” says Arshu Anthony. “It was here that I had better access to the internet and where I met other people who are like me.”
The 28-year-old describes her home on the Andaman and Nicobar Islands as being one of the most beautiful places in the world. “But I also love Bangalore, I love to travel!” she says laughing.
Arshu laughs quite a bit, covering her mouth with her hand, finding joy in the many facets of her life on the islands. Arshu lives in what is commonly known as Port Blair and works at the government office of the Directorate of Shipping Service as an office manager.
“People identify me as gay. I do feel more comfortable being a woman but I’m not sure I’m transgender. I like being called she/her, but I do respond to he/him because that’s what everyone at work calls me. Most people think I’m a transwoman, but I’m not because I haven’t had any surgery. I crossdress. I don’t want to fully transition, I like how I am now. The people in the office are used to me like this, so they don’t really bother about my looks.”


According to the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment Portal for Transgender Persons, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands have only received two applications for Transgender identity cards.
Originally from Car Nicobar, a district of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Arshu has lived in Port Blair since the 2004 tsunami. “I had to move when I was very young because the tsunami caused so much damage to the island. Now, I live with my relatives, and they know about me. They are supportive,” says Arshu.
Arshu’s outgoing personality has helped her forge friendships as well. Such as her friendship with 32-year-old Premika or Prem Kumar. Initially, the two connected in 2017 on Facebook and a couple of years later, met in person at a party.
“Arshu just walked up to me and introduced herself,” says Premika. “She is just so extroverted. I’m not able to do that with strangers, I’m much more introverted.”
Premika identifies as gay and likes to dress in women’s clothing, but is happy in his body. Premika and Arshu both giggled as Premika shared, “I have that girlishness in me, I have had it in my whole life.”
Arshu interjects, “Yeah that’s a fact!”
Both are from the Mongoloid tribe, part of the Nicobarese. “We’re actually distantly related,” Arshu says happily. Arshu and Premika’s tribe, along with the other Nicobari tribe, the Shompens, number only 42,000 out of the total population of 4,34,192 people in the union territory.
Premika was 13 when he moved to what was then Port Blair, after the 2004 tsunami. “I shifted with my entire family, my dad, my mom, and my sister. We went back for a while, but I came back for college, Jawaharlal Nehru Rajkeeya Mahavidyalaya, to get an undergraduate degree in travel management. I joined Jay Hotel and my first salary was Rs. 7,000. That was my first earning amount in my life,” he says with pride. Currently, Premika works as a receptionist in a hotel in Sri Vijaya Puram called TSG Emerald.
“My family has supported me throughout my life. In 2010 my father passed, but my mom and sister still support me and they know about my preferences. I live on rent in a 2-bedroom apartment with my mom and sister. They know that I’m ‘feminine’, and they know that I’m gay, but we don’t talk about it. But they do accept it. They love me. They don’t question my gender, my voice, which is slightly higher pitched. When I was younger they did worry, but now they know what I’m doing. So they trust me,” says Premika.
He adds, “I like the name Premika more (than Prem Kumar) but I use ‘he’ pronouns too. Although everyone knows I’m gay, I only cross dress or dress up for an occasion, not for work. When other people at parties look or dress like me, I feel comfortable. I am comfortable in women’s clothing. When I was 24 or 25 I thought I might do something about transitioning, but I thought to myself that this is the body that God gave me and I’m happy with that.”
Premika shares, “In 2018 I found out more about the terms LGBTQi and I watched a lot more on YouTube like the drag queen Sushant Divgikar (Rani Ko-HE-Nur). They inspire me a lot.”
Both concede that there isn’t a big queer community in the islands, and that it is difficult to meet or trust people. Arshu explains, “We meet at weekend parties, but there is no support system here for the LQBTQIA community. Sometimes even when people say they support you or they are being supportive to your face, they do or say something else behind your back… I have experienced that. There is a stigma attached to being gay here, people don’t understand why you would be gay- they think it’s something we can change. When I travel, when I go to the mainland, it is much more free, I can meet people who tell me they are gay and it feels so different!”
Dating apps have made it easier to meet travelers who come through the Islands for vacation and once in a while a friendship or a meaningful connection can be made, but both have experienced bullying when they were younger, although they said it made them more resilient now. Arshu says she uses dating apps more than Premika as she enjoys meeting new people.
Premika explains, “People are afraid to come out here. I do want a long term relationship, but how do you find that here? Most men are not out here and they don’t claim to be gay, they just want to have intimate relationships, but they’re all married or scared to come out. But I want a partner who is loyal to me. If you love someone else then don’t be with me or expect me to just be the second person. I have never been in a serious relationship…there are no queer couples on the islands. It does get lonely.”
Arshu and Premika enjoy their friendship but don’t get to meet often because of clashing work schedules, as Premika works the night shift. However, they try to stay in touch regularly over the phone. With the queer community being so small, friendships and support systems are vital.
Arshu concludes, “I just want to educate people and for them to know what LGBTQ are, most people don’t know here. People think being gay is wrong, but I don’t care anymore. I have a job, I am earning, what people are thinking – that’s shit, I don’t care about that. People think they can just say anything to me like, why are you like this or whatever, but I don’t bother anymore. I live my life and I love my life.”
In a Broader Context: How Did One of India’s Queer Friendly Cities Evolve?
Sanjay Kumar, who was borned and raised in Bangalore, Karnataka, is a psychotherapist, and Head of Counseling services at Naz Project-London, an organisation that focused on the queer community. He has been out and proud for almost 30 years and shares that the situation that Prem and Arshu are in and how Port Blair sounds like Bangalore did in the 90s.
“Hearing about Port Blair did make me think of Bangalore many years ago. When I was coming out, in 1997, I first heard about gay men in Cubbon Park–but I’m sure it was happening before my time!” he laughs. “It was a place where lovers met, be whatever gender and sexuality, not just Cubbon Park but also Mahatma Gandhi Park, and the whole garden walkway – what was called the Queen’s Walk, and I remember how it used to be covered with bougainvillea flowers. These areas are where people would ‘cruise’ or find each other. It wasn’t easy to find each other back then, but over time the community came to know and recognise each other- where to be seen on Sunday evenings so that we could blend into the crowd for safety, or where to cruise via motorbike or car. All factions would come! Queer, English speaking, Kannada speaking… and just like Port Blair, it was quite underground.”
Sanjay remembers that at that time in Bangalore, it was a place before mobile phones, before the internet, before dating apps and he commiserates with the situation in Port Blair. “The fears, the lack of visibility, not really knowing who the other person was because you had just met that day…all make me think of Bangalore 20 years ago. In my youth, we used to meet in crowded buses sometimes and try to use that to meet or flirt or sometimes each touch each other. While we didn’t have the internet, there was a camaraderie spirit that seems absent today. Yes, it was tough for most of us, without being able to meet online or talk on phones, but at that time If I could have something that I could help, I would help, but it does seem like its happening less and less now- while we may have more apps, we’re less in it together.”
However, he goes on to say that in mainland India, the queer community has the advantage of being connected geographically, with people being able to travel between cities than in the Andaman Islands. There was a larger community in Bangalore, and more people to meet.
“I still think in Bangalore we were lucky- we had some elders who would host parties in the safety of their homes and that way you could be sexual or romantic with someone without worrying about the police because at that time being gay was still illegal. I can understand how it might seem lonely in Port Blair when you only meet at hotel parties or to hook up from dating apps.”
It wasn’t just India that faced these challenges- globally queer people have struggled with their identities and access to rights and continue to do so. What we call Pride Month now started a protest in New York City called the StoneWall Riots.
Sanjay also shares that when he was in London, there were secret gay bars where people would know about only if they were gay or secret words that helped queer people recognise each other. “People were living double lives and had different names, which seems the same as what is happening in Port Blair right now, with men not wanting to claim their queer identity or not wanting relationships. Even now in London people use different names for their gay culture and lead two different lives- in the South Asian queer community in London, even now, some people use different numbers. What Arshu and Prem are facing now is something that queer have faced for so long. It’s very heartbreaking.”
Through all this, Sanjay remains hopeful. He says that in 1997, he would have not imagined what is happening in Bangalore in 2025 -with multiple queer events and marches. Now, Bangalore has become a leading city in India for the queer community. “I hope that Port Blair will follow that spirit, especially because access to the internet, while it has its drawbacks, does mean that they can be used to keep the community alive. Port Blair is still in India and people have always found each other in public spaces. Love will try and find its flow.”
About the Author
Sweta Daga (she/her) is a queer multimedia independent journalist based in Bangalore. Her work focuses on the intersection of climate justice, gender, and livelihoods.