“What defines my identity?” Muskan Nazz questions, having undergone gender reassignment surgery and updated her identification documents last year after a challenging journey. “Is it possible for them to revoke my transgender status? What implications will this have for individuals currently undergoing transition procedures? Will they find themselves in limbo?” The recently amended Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Act, 2026, has reignited old fears for Nazz, who leads a team at a multinational corporation in Delhi.
After striving to be recognized as her true self beyond her biological gender, she feels as if she has been pushed back to the beginning. The new amendments have eliminated the right to “self-perceived gender identity” and imposed stringent bureaucratic and medical requirements that critics argue create obstacles to legal recognition and transition processes. The revised law limits the definition of transgender, effectively excluding trans men, trans women, and queer individuals who do not conform to traditional identities such as hijras or kinners, or who do not pursue medical interventions. This change has also resulted in uncertainty regarding the validity of approximately 32,000 transgender certificates that were previously issued based on self-identified gender.
“We have lost our very existence,” expresses Sanjana Tiwari, a transwoman and online peer counselor for a nonprofit organization, noting a rise in harassment cases among transgender sex workers she assists. “They report that law enforcement, clients, and others have begun to assert things like ‘you do not exist, you are a man, you are pretending.’ Some are questioning whether suicide is the only option, feeling unacknowledged in their gender after their long battles for self-acceptance,” she shares.
While Tiwari feels personally unaffected, she worries that younger members of the transgender community will face even more hurdles before they can obtain a transgender identity card, access hormone therapy, or schedule gender reassignment surgeries. She believes that mandatory evaluations by a medical board may expose them to societal scorn and delay crucial treatments. “Moreover, many individuals do not opt for surgery due to prohibitive costs or are simply content to express their chosen gender socially. Will they now be completely ineligible for a transgender ID?” she questions, uncertain about the implications of the new legislation for herself and the transgender sex workers she supports.
Nazz realized her identity as a girl from an early age. “I played with dolls, mimicked motherhood with my cousins, and wore my mother’s clothing when I was alone at home,” she recalls, sharing the verbal and sexual abuse she faced. It wasn’t until she moved to Delhi and connected with others in the transgender community that she began to understand her feelings. Her journey, which required nearly Rs 11 lakh accumulated since her youth, included counseling, hormone therapy, facial hair removal treatments, and gender reassignment surgery. A forced marriage accelerated her transition; she needed a transgender ID to divorce a woman she never wished to wed. Had this situation occurred under the new law, her progress would have been severely hindered.
The 2026 amendment fundamentally alters the definition of transgender, stripping away the right to self-identify. It only recognizes individuals from specific socio-cultural groups, such as Hijras and Kinnars, or those with intersex characteristics. Individuals experiencing gender incongruence or dysphoria—conditions where one’s perceived gender does not align with their assigned sex at birth—are not acknowledged. This omission effectively erases the identities of trans men and trans women who do not belong to any recognized socio-cultural group.
In contrast, the previous 2019 Act offered a broader definition of transgender, including anyone whose gender does not align with that assigned at birth, encompassing trans men, trans women, intersex individuals, and those identifying as genderqueer, among others.
One of the most concerning elements of the new law is the stipulation that district magistrates can only issue identity certificates based on recommendations from a medical board in consultation with medical professionals. A senior doctor involved in developing the country’s transgender treatment guidelines, who requested anonymity, commented, “The implementation of this law is uncertain—the definition is indeed restrictive and does not accommodate individuals with gender incongruence or dysphoria. The role of the medical board and its capacity to recognize those outside established cultural identities remains unclear.”
The physician highlighted that this ambiguity could disrupt immediate care for transgender individuals. “While the Act does not explicitly prohibit medical care, it penalizes undue influence. Although intended to protect individuals from coercion by certain groups, it also allows family members opposed to a person’s transition to pursue legal action against healthcare providers. Consequently, many practitioners may be reluctant to proceed with care.”
Dr. Mohan Raj, a consultant psychiatrist in Chennai who specializes in transgender healthcare, noted, “In India, no one can easily access sex reassignment surgery or hormone replacement therapy; established protocols must be followed. Individuals require letters or certificates from at least two psychiatrists to proceed.”
