I dressed as the goddess Durga at age 5 for a fancy dress competition. My mom thought it would be appropriate to dress her boy child this way because I was good at dancing, and it meant not having to buy a specific dress, saving some money.
Somehow, dressing up as divine figures made me feel spiritual and connected to the realm of understanding how faith was introduced to me since childhood, becoming one of the rituals I invented for myself.
I still remember the roles I played from then on in all school programs, either as a devi or Mother Mary. Somehow, dressing up as divine figures made me feel spiritual and connected to the realm of understanding how faith was introduced to me since childhood, becoming one of the rituals I invented for myself.
Navigating religious trauma and identity
Growing up, the practice of my religion of origin created conflict with my identity and faith. Being a queer, trans, bisexual person, religion, though seemingly compliant with some imaginations of identity, never fully accepted or acknowledged the overall contexts of intersectionality of queerness. While I took a pick-and-choose approach with some traditional Hindu practices, the current state of how a majoritarian religion is used as a rallying cry to suppress other religious and caste minorities, including trans and queer people, added to my religious trauma.
To reconcile this dissonance, I turned to books, music and writings that explored Hinduism through a queer lens. While these texts provided affirmation, this was the time when the world was heating up with conversations about anti-trans and anti-drag politics, especially in the West. As I searched for answers, I delved into other spiritual practices, studying the teachings of Bahá’í communities, Sufism, and pantheistic beliefs. Over time, I constructed my own faith—a mosaic of affirmations from various traditions that resonated with my identity.
Birth of “Drag Me to Heaven” podcast, voices on faith, drag, and identity
I took a sabbatical from my performance to internalise the idea of how I could turn the immediate people in my life toward interfaith understanding. This culminated in the creation of a podcast, “Drag Me to Heaven.” In this podcast, I engage with drag artists from diverse faith backgrounds, exploring how they navigate their spiritual journeys alongside their drag practices.
In the podcast, I interviewed Zeesh, a Mumbai-based Muslim drag artist who creates Gothic alien looks as a form of spirituality. Hiten Noonwal, from Delhi, believes in paranormal spirits and transforms dream imagery into drag personas. Maya the drag queen shared their journey with Christianity and using religious texts to counter hate toward queer people.
Salaura and Bloody Kamina, two Dalit drag artists, spoke about how their drag gives them power and resistance to change society’s status quo.
Salaura and Bloody Kamina, two Dalit drag artists, spoke about how their drag gives them power and resistance to change society’s status quo. Begum Soni, a cross-dresser, shared experiences of participating in religious festivals like Chamayivilakku and Raasleela. Khemaya, from Odisha, discussed the connection between Gotipua temple traditions and contemporary drag.
Global perspectives on drag, spirituality and cultural resistance
VictWhoria Jumbobutt candidly addressed living with HIV and embracing nudism, while Bollyvvitch wove faith and witchery into performances. Sexwax combined surfing, Hindustani music, and spirituality, and Maya Mem Saab redefined glamor with bearded drag using Bahuchara Mata imagery. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, represented by Sister Roma, shared insights on being queer nuns serving the community. Sister Shalita, a Jewish drag artist, bridged activism and mysticism.
Phoenix Raj highlighted Nepal’s evolving queer spaces, while Momolicca explored gender performance history in temples. Jolene Queen Sloan celebrated Punjabi drag power in Canada, and Tifa Wine fused Indo-Caribbean culture with anti-colonial resistance through Chutney music and carnival traditions. Bonnie Violet discussed digital chaplaincy and divine exploration, offering services to help trans people navigate identity transitions. Landa Lakes shared her Two-Spirit identity and Native history, creating looks based on her Chiwawa tribe heritage.
Resistance and hope through drag, the drag futurism of faith
The series concluded with Mama Gannush connecting drag with Palestinian resistance. They spoke about Palestinian futurism and navigating life as a Muslim non-binary person. Emperor Naaz, a drag king from Mumbai, dressed as Krishna to reclaim the anarchy of sexuality and gender.
The conversations extended beyond India, featuring international voices that reaffirm how drag can be a form of spiritual activism. Through “Drag Me to Heaven,” I aim to dismantle stereotypes about drag’s relationship with religion, positioning it as a spiritual practice that fosters dialogue and understanding. Drag has become a sanctuary where I can navigate faith and identity on my terms.
As I continue to explore these themes, I hope to learn from more voices across South Asia, uncovering practices and perspectives that challenge the boundaries of queerness and belief. Ultimately, my journey reflects a belief that spirituality is not a rigid framework but a living, evolving space—one where drag and faith can coexist, offering hope and affirmation to those who navigate the complexities of queerness and belief.
