From Bollywood to Bengaluru: In Transit and Why Global Non-Binary Stories Matter
Picture this: Bollywood’s glittering studios and Bengaluru’s vibrant streets coming together to tell one groundbreaking story. For decades, mainstream Indian cinema rarely spotlighted the lives of transgender and non-binary people; when they appeared at all, it was often as one-dimensional caricatures (the clichéd hijra comic relief or “crazy” villain).
But today, a new documentary series called In Transit is changing that narrative, bridging the gap from the glitzy world of Bollywood to the real-life queer communities of Bengaluru and beyond. It’s a journey that not only traverses the length of India but also speaks to a global non-binary visibility movement in media and society.
Amazon Prime’s docuseries, In Transit, follows nine transgender and non-binary individuals across India. The series’ heartfelt storytelling spans cultural hubs from Mumbai’s Bollywood scene to the streets of Bengaluru, illuminating journeys of identity, love, and acceptance.
Watch Here with an Amazon Prime Subscription: In Transit
Inside In Transit: A Journey Beyond Binaries
In Transit is a four-part docuseries (Amazon Prime Video, 2025) that explores the lives of nine transgender and non-binary individuals across India. Created by notable Bollywood filmmakers Zoya Akhtar and Reema Kagti and directed by Ayesha Sood, the series was born from an interesting place.
While casting a trans character for Season 2 of their hit show Made in Heaven, the creators realised just how limited their knowledge of trans experiences was. The Made in Heaven team received “crazy feedback” from LGBTQ+ viewers who finally felt authentically seen on screen. This prompted Akhtar and Kagti to expand that representation into a new format where trans people could tell their own stories directly. The result was In Transit, a series they pitched to Amazon that got greenlit “in one call,” showing a real hunger for these narratives.
So, what is In Transit about? In a nutshell, it offers an intimate glimpse into personal journeys of gender identity, societal acceptance, family bonds, and self-transformation. Each of its four episodes threads together stories from different corners of India, painting a truly intersectional portrait of queer life. We met a classical musician in Bengaluru, a school teacher in Tripura, and a corporate professional in Mumbai, among others. From the big metropolis to small towns, from east to west and north to south, the show assembles a broad spectrum of voices that reflect both incredible diversity and everyday struggles.
One episode features Anubhuti Banerjee, a trans woman who flourished with supportive parents and now holds a senior corporate job. At the same time, another introduces Teena from rural Haryana, who battled poverty and prejudice on her road to living authentically. We see Aryan Somaiya, a trans man and psychologist, candidly discuss years of dysphoria and family abuse before finding self-acceptance. And we witness Madhuri Sarode Sharma achieve a milestone as the first transgender woman in India to openly marry her partner, a joyous breakthrough in a country where such unions are still rare.
Each story, in its own way, is an act of defiance and hope, a refusal to conform to someone else’s script and a desire to live as one truly is.
What makes In Transit especially powerful is its tone. The camera doesn’t gawk or sensationalise; it feels more like a compassionate friend along for the ride. Director Ayesha Sood spent over 18 months building trust with participants before filming, ensuring that everyone felt safe to open up. That effort pays off as the storytelling is nuanced, empathetic, and refreshingly free of shock value. There are no voyeuristic “before and after” montages or preachy voiceovers; instead, we get quiet, everyday moments like a parent’s gentle encouragement, a tearful recollection of a childhood memory, or a laugh shared among friends, all of which make these stories feel deeply human and relatable.
Critics have praised the series’ warmth and authenticity, noting that it “emotionally disarms” viewers with its honest, dignified approach. By the end, In Transit comes across not just as a docuseries, but as a patchwork of unique lives stitched together by common threads of courage, love, and the pursuit of belonging.
From Bollywood to Bengaluru: Bridging Cultural Hubs for Queer Narratives
Why the phrase “from Bollywood to Bengaluru”? It’s more than catchy alliteration. It highlights how In Transit bridges two cultural worlds that rarely intersect on queer issues.
Bollywood, India’s Hindi film industry centred in Mumbai, has long been the epicentre of the nation’s storytelling. Its influence is global, yet it has historically sidelined LGBTQ+ narratives. When transgender or non-binary characters did appear in popular cinema, they were often depicted insensitively. Hindi films frequently used hijra (third gender) characters as comic relief or portrayed them as deranged, rather than as real people with agency. This lack of authentic representation contributed to a culture of misunderstanding and stigma.
Even as recently as the 2000s, it was hard to find a Bollywood film that treated a queer or trans character with depth and respect. Those stories were overlooked or outright suppressed in mainstream media, leaving a generation of non-binary and trans Indians without mirrors in their culture.
But change is (slowly) afoot. In the last few years, we’ve seen glimmers of progress in Indian entertainment. For example, the series Made in Heaven made waves by casting a trans woman (actor Trinetra Haldar) in a major onscreen role as a trans character, and movies on gay and lesbian themes have received critical acclaim. In Transit takes this evolution a step further by bringing real queer individuals front and centre, backed by the clout of Bollywood powerhouses like Zoya Akhtar. It’s a symbolic and literal journey from the Bollywood studios of Mumbai to the real-life experiences in cities like Bengaluru.
Now, Bengaluru (formerly Bangalore) is noteworthy here. Often dubbed India’s Silicon Valley, this South Indian metropolis is a thriving cultural hub with a young, progressive population, including a robust queer community. Bengaluru hosts pride marches, queer film festivals, and grassroots LGBTQ+ collectives. Yet, its non-binary and trans narratives rarely make it into the national spotlight. They’re either ignored by mainstream media or discussed in hushed tones due to lingering societal conservatism. By featuring a story of a classical musician from Bangalore (the series introduces Rumi Harish, a trans man and Hindustani music artist, for instance), In Transit shines a light on a city where queer identity is rapidly evolving but still fighting for visibility. It validates that Bengaluru’s queer stories are as crucial as Bollywood’s biggest blockbusters, even if they’ve been marginalised until now.
Connecting Bollywood and Bengaluru is also symbolic of bridging the established and the emerging. Bollywood represents tradition, influence, and the established narrative, while Bengaluru embodies innovation, youth culture, and new narratives. By bringing them together, In Transit sends a powerful message: queer and non-binary stories belong everywhere from film sets to startup hubs, from old family homes to college campuses.
The series roots itself “uniquely in India” while being universally relatable. It reminds us that whether you’re in a Mumbai movie studio or a Bangalore café, themes of identity, love, and finding one’s place in the world are universal. And importantly, it asserts that queer Indians have always been part of these cultural spheres, even if their stories were not always told.
Global Non-Binary Visibility: Why These Stories Matter
One might ask, why do local stories like these matter on a global stage? The answer lies in the connective power of storytelling. In Transit may be about trans and non-binary Indians, but its impact ripples far beyond India’s borders. By airing on a global platform during Pride Month, the series has invited audiences worldwide to step into lives that might be very different from their own, and yet find the common humanity. This is the essence of global non-binary visibility: when stories of gender-diverse people from all corners of the world are seen and heard, it normalises the idea that there’s no one way to be a man, a woman, or to exist beyond that binary.
Let’s break down why global non-binary narratives like In Transit are so important:
Empathy and Understanding: Seeing the day-to-day realities of, say, a trans man in Bangalore or a non-binary artist in Hyderabad fosters empathy across cultural lines. The series’s compassionate lens allows viewers to walk in someone else’s shoes without judgment. When a teenager in New York or London watches an episode and connects with the emotions on screen, it chips away at prejudices and misconceptions. As director Ayesha Sood noted, the goal was to share these experiences in a way that sparks conversations and builds understanding to let people “look beyond labels and see the humanity in every story”.
Authentic Representation: For non-binary and trans folks globally, representation isn’t just about quantity but quality. In Transit avoids stereotypes and lets its nine protagonists speak for themselves, which is incredibly empowering. When non-binary representation in media is authentic, it sends a message to viewers who identify similarly that your story matters. Imagine the impact on a young non-binary person in South Asia (or anywhere) seeing Patruni Sastry, a gender-fluid drag artist and parent, confidently living their truth on screen. It’s validating and potentially life-changing. As the series illustrates through pop culture references, the first time someone sees themselves on screen can be a profound moment of recognition and a reminder that they are not alone.
Intersectional Solidarity: The individuals in In Transit aren’t just queer in isolation; they carry intersecting identities like Rie Raut, a Dalit trans activist, who faces caste discrimination alongside gender discrimination. By showing a diversity of caste, class, religion, and regional backgrounds, the series teaches a global audience about intersectionality in South Asia. This fosters solidarity among marginalised communities worldwide. Viewers start to see how struggles for LGBTQ+ rights, racial justice, and economic equality are interlinked. Such connections build a more unified, understanding global queer community.
Shaping Public Discourse: Storytelling has a way of shifting conversations. In India, In Transit has been called “a landmark in queer storytelling” with the potential to spark essential conversations around inclusivity and allyship. When global audiences tune in, they become part of those conversations. Discussions about transgender rights, non-binary identities, and media responsibility cross-pollinate across countries. This can influence everything from social attitudes to policymaking. For instance, seeing the series might inspire more people to advocate for trans-inclusive policies at work, or push content creators in other countries to tell their own local trans stories. Essentially, each story shared is a seed planted in the public consciousness, and with enough seeds, you get a garden of change.
In short, global non-binary visibility is about changing hearts and minds on a worldwide scale, one personal story at a time. In Transit contributes to that by providing a rich, intersectional tapestry of real-life narratives from which anyone, anywhere can draw lessons and inspiration. It proves that trans and non-binary experiences are not monolithic; they’re as diverse as humanity itself, yet there are shared dreams that unite us all, like the desire to be seen, loved, and understood.
Non-Binary Representation in Media: Progress and Pitfalls
Looking at In Transit also prompts a bigger discussion about non-binary representation in media. How far have we come, and how far do we have to go?
In India, as mentioned, representation has historically been fraught. For the longest time, mainstream media perpetuated harmful stereotypes like the loud, “man in a dress” trope used for laughs, or the portrayal of trans women as mystical beggars on the fringes of society. Those depictions weren’t just insensitive; they were incomplete. They reduced whole human beings to punchlines or plot devices, which in turn affected how society at large viewed the LGBTQ+ community. It’s hard to demand respect in real life when the only images of you on-screen are disrespectful.
However, we are witnessing signs of progress. The rise of streaming platforms and independent films has allowed more queer creators and actors to bring authentic stories to the screen. Made in Heaven (2019) was a breakthrough with its nuanced gay lead and a trans character played by a trans actress. Regional cinemas in India (Tamil, Bengali, Malayalam films, etc.) have also braved queer themes earlier than Bollywood did, quietly building a foundation for change. In Transit builds on that foundation uniquely: it’s not fiction, but real life; not one story, but nine; not a minor subplot, but the entire focus. And crucially, it’s backed by celebrated filmmakers known for their commercial hits. That combination of authentic voices and mainstream support is powerful. It’s the difference between token representation and meaningful representation.
Yet, In Transit also highlights some ongoing challenges and opportunities in media representation. The Times of India’s review pointed out that the series, while moving, left out many voices of the protagonists’ family and friends. We mostly hear from the trans and non-binary individuals themselves (which is excellent), but we rarely see how their loved ones interact with their journey. Including those perspectives could have added another layer showing, for example, a parent’s evolution from confusion to acceptance, or a friend standing up against discrimination. This critique is a reminder that holistic representation means not just portraying queer individuals in isolation, but also their relationships and communities. It’s a pitfall to avoid in future storytelling: focusing so much on the individual struggle that we miss the surrounding context. After all, no one transitions or explores their identity in a vacuum; we all exist in social ecosystems.
Another ongoing issue is ensuring diversity within the non-binary/trans representation. In Transit does a commendable job here as its cast spans different regions (from big cities like Mumbai and Bangalore to smaller locales like Jamshedpur and Tripura), different socio-economic classes, and even different faiths. This intersectional approach should be a blueprint for future media. There is no single “trans experience” or “non-binary experience,” and media must resist the temptation to present one narrative as universal. A genderfluid artist’s life might be vastly different from that of a trans man who is a doctor or a trans woman who is a homemaker, yet all are valid. Accurate representation means showing the range: the joys, the struggles, the mundane, the extraordinary.
Globally, we’re seeing more non-binary characters pop up in films and TV (from animated shows to big-budget series). That’s encouraging, but it comes with the responsibility to do it right. Casting actual non-binary actors for non-binary roles, consulting queer writers, and steering clear of clichés are all part of doing justice to these stories. Audiences, especially Gen Z, are savvy; they can tell pander from genuine effort. The success of In Transit being lauded as “one of the most comprehensive explorations of [India’s] queer and trans spectrum to date” suggests that when you approach representation with respect and depth, viewers respond with trust and appreciation. It raises the bar for other content creators: no more excuses for shallow or harmful portrayals; the blueprint for inclusive, intersectional storytelling is right here.
Trans and Non-Binary Stories in South Asia: A New Chapter
It’s essential to frame In Transit in the larger context of trans and non-binary stories in South Asia. This region has a complex relationship with gender diversity.
On one hand, South Asian cultures historically recognise more than two genders; for example, the Hijra community (often referred to as a “third gender”) has existed for centuries in India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. On the other hand, colonial-era laws and conservative social attitudes led to the severe marginalisation of these communities in the last few hundred years. Only recently have things started to change.
India’s 2018 decriminalisation of homosexuality and legal recognition of trans persons as a third gender (per a 2014 Supreme Court judgment) set the stage for more open conversations. But laws alone don’t erase stigma; stories do.
In Transit arrives at a time when South Asia is, indeed, writing a new chapter for its queer and trans citizens. Across the region, we see signs of progress: India appointed its first transgender judges and opened transgender welfare boards; Pakistan passed a (contested but notable) Transgender Rights Bill; Nepal and Bangladesh have had transgender legislators and activists making headlines. Yet, societal acceptance still lags. There’s a tug-of-war between old prejudices and new understanding.
In this climate, a series like In Transit plays a critical role. It doesn’t preach or politicise, it shows human lives. And sometimes, that’s more influential than any court ruling. When an Indian mother in a small town watches an episode and sees another mother accepting her trans daughter with open arms, it can challenge her perceptions. When a South Asian college student sees a non-binary person thriving in their career, it can inspire confidence in their own journey.
Moreover, In Transit contributes to a growing media movement in South Asia that tells LGBTQ+ stories with care and authenticity. We’ve had influential South Asian queer films and books, but a mainstream docuseries backed by a production giant is a significant leap. It signals to other filmmakers and platforms that these stories are not only socially essential but also commercially viable and globally resonant. The series’ global release and positive reception prove that audiences (especially younger, socially conscious ones) want this content. It’s a win-win: representation improves, and creators get engaged viewership.
It’s also worth noting the intersectional nuances In Transit brings forth, which are very specific to South Asia. For instance, caste is a significant theme with one protagonist being Dalit, highlighting how caste oppression and transphobia can compound each other, a theme rarely explored on screen. Likewise, some stories likely touch on religious identity (a Muslim trans person navigating faith, perhaps) or linguistic identity.
By situating trans and non-binary experiences firmly within Indian contexts, families, festivals, workplaces, and faith traditions, the series asserts that queerness is not a Western import; it’s part of South Asia’s own tapestry. This is a crucial message in regions where opponents of LGBTQ+ rights often claim it’s “against our culture.” Nothing counters that argument better than real people from that very culture living proudly as themselves.
In Transit is more than a docuseries; it’s part of a cultural shift in South Asia. It stands on the shoulders of many activists and artists who paved the way, and in turn, it propels the movement forward, opening hearts in living rooms from Delhi to Dhaka. This new chapter is one of visibility, pride, and nuanced understanding, and it’s being co-written by every individual who bravely shares their truth.
A Conversation with the Next Generation
Perhaps the most exciting aspect of In Transit is how it speaks to and through the new generation, Gen Z and young millennials, who are coming of age with a more fluid understanding of gender. If you fall into that demographic, you might be nodding along. You’ve grown up with the internet connecting you to queer content and communities worldwide. You probably follow queer influencers, celebrate Pride, and have strong opinions on representation. In Transit feels like a conversation with you, not a lecture.
The tone of the series, which is conversational, candid, and sometimes even light-hearted, mirrors the tone young queer folks use with each other. It doesn’t sanitise the pain (there are heartbreaking moments, to be sure), but it also celebrates joy, ambition, and everyday life in trans communities. That balance is key for a Gen Z audience that is tired of trauma-only depictions.
We often joke that we want queer stories with happy endings, or at least stories that show queer people hanging out, doing mundane things like getting coffee or dancing at parties, essentially, living. In Transit delivers on that by reminding viewers that trans stories are “as layered and relatable as any other”. One moment you’re crying at a painful recollection; the next, you’re laughing as Patruni Sastry playfully teaches someone how to do a dance move in drag. This emotional range resonates with young audiences who see their own multifaceted lives reflected.
Moreover, the series sparks a critical, forward-thinking mindset. As a Gen Z or young millennial viewer, you’re likely to watch In Transit and then hop on social media to discuss it. Maybe you tweet about your favourite participant’s quote, or you share a TikTok video reacting to an episode, or you DM a friend saying, “you have to watch this.” In that sense, In Transit isn’t just a passive viewing experience; it’s a conversation starter, a piece of content that begs to be shared, dissected, and used as fuel for advocacy.
It encourages questions like:
“How can our society do better for non-binary youth?”, “Why are some regions safer for trans people than others?”, or “What can I do to support my non-binary friend’s journey?”.
These questions are precisely what a forward-thinking, socially conscious generation should be asking. And the act of asking them keeps that critical lens turned on society, which is how change accelerates.
The show’s clever use of pop culture references is another nod to young viewers. It mentions films and TV serials like Hum Paanch that the characters grew up watching. By doing so, it cleverly critiques earlier media (pointing out what representation was missing) while illustrating how meaningful it is when representation does happen. We all remember the first time we identified with a character on screen. In Transit has these meta moments where its subjects recount that experience, effectively winking at the audience: “See? This is why what you’re watching right now matters.” It’s an invitation to think critically about media and demand better, more diverse stories.
Carrying the Journey Forward: Your Voice Matters
By the end of In Transit, one is filled with a mix of emotions, anger at the injustices faced, yes, but also hope and excitement for what the future holds. The docuseries doesn’t claim that everything is perfect now (far from it), but it shows that progress is tangible and ongoing. The baton is now in our hands, including yours, as you read this.
So what can you do with the inspiration and insights gained?
Start by continuing the conversation. Talk about In Transit with friends, family, or on your socials. Please share this story and what it made you feel or think about. Ask others to reflect on their own identity journeys, and you’d be surprised how many people have quietly questioned or explored their gender, even if they haven’t spoken about it. By creating space for those dialogues, you help normalise discussions about gender beyond the binary.
If you haven’t already, watch In Transit. Support content that pushes the envelope, because viewership numbers translate to executives greenlighting more such projects. Follow the journeys of the real-life individuals from the series; many of them, like Madhuri Sarode Sharma and Patruni Sastry, are on social media doing advocacy and art. They’ll remind you that the story doesn’t end when the credits roll.
And for our queer, trans, and non-binary readers out there: let this be a warm reminder that your story is valid and essential. Whether you’re out and proud, quietly questioning, or anywhere in between, you are part of this beautiful global tapestry, and the world needs your voice. Keep pushing for representation that includes you, whether that’s in media, at your workplace, or in your school curriculum. Every time you speak up, someone listening might feel less alone.
At EnbyMeaning, we’re all about these nuanced, inclusive conversations. If this piece resonated with you, consider following us for more content on non-binary representation in media, queer history, and personal stories from the LGBTQIA+ community. Share this post with someone who’d appreciate it, maybe a friend who loves Bollywood but hasn’t thought about its queer side, or a sibling in South Asia who could use a boost of pride.
The journey from Bollywood to Bengaluru, from suppression to celebration, from isolation to solidarity, it’s in motion, and we are all in transit. Let’s continue moving forward together. Your voice and actions are the next chapter in this story of global non-binary visibility and acceptance.
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