Big things are happening in the Delhi drag scene. Rakhi Sawant is set to judge Battle Royale 2.0, a national-level drag competition, at The LaLit New Delhi next week. Yes, the demonic shriek you just heard came from me.
Rakhi is on fire lately. Everyone wants her. If Rahul Gandhi topped the list of people the student protesters wanted to visit Jantar Mantar, she was a close second. When I told a dear friend I was planning to write about Rakhi, she was confused. The festival or the queen of humanity, she asked. That’s how young people see Rakhi Sawant.
My editor asked me whether Rakhi means more to the queer community than Sridevi. I didn’t hesitate to say yes. While Sridevi supplied a good dose of camp back in the day, with Rakhi, it’s endless. And unlike the strategically shy Sridevi, Rakhi is loud and unfiltered.
At first glance, the reality queen judging the Kitty Su contest is perfect. Many queens do drag for a living, but Rakhi lives drag. Pull out any of the many outfits she donned over the past two days, and you’d find oddities, colour, and joy. On Independence Day, she wore a tricolour turban and used a nath as a sarpech. It’s something a contestant would do on Drag Race India to pay homage to her Marathi heritage. It even reminds me of Manila Luzon—icon of innovation—using a magnetic earring to jazz up her shoes. She held a tiny magnet between her toes and the huge rhinestone earring stayed put. Rakhi shares this penchant for innovation; that’s what makes her so camp.
The fashion is a small part of it, though. The more important, draggy aspect of Rakhi is her personality. She thrives on profanity and says things as she sees them. You don’t need to hire a writer if you have Rakhi to market your product. You can never predict the next thing she’ll say, but it is bound to be entertaining. That’s the quality of a seasoned drag queen.
Also read: How drag queen Hash Brownie created Kitty Su’s first lipstick
Beneath the slurs and jokes
The question is, does Rakhi know much about drag or queerness? She has all the chops to judge this contest—I’m betting on at least one Rakhi number featuring in the lip sync battles. She understands a well-put-together look, a good dance number, and an entertaining performance. Few people are better suited to judge a drag competition than Rakhi Sawant. But does she truly get queer people, a community that adores her?
While she surely loves her queer dance tutors and makeup dadas, she has been known to struggle with the terminology. As in, get it completely wrong. More than once, she has called gay men namard in jest—though it’s the oldest joke in her humour rolodex.
Masculinity is the first thing Rakhi attacks whenever faced with a man. To be fair, I’ve been called worse names by my classmates in seventh grade, back when I wasn’t even sure I was gay. Plus, who would want to keep associating with masculinity in 2026? To me, the words are not the problem—it is the fact that she seems confused about the difference between gay and trans people.
When Rakhi was asked about same sex marriage by paparazzi about two years ago, she went through a series of emotions. First, she established that she supports the community. “Main aapke saath hoon.” I am with you all. But her next thought was that gay marriage would mean “a lot of diseases would spread”. She quickly pivoted to a joke: “Who will marry women if men are allowed to love each other?” Eventually, she reached religion. “Allah made man and woman, so gay marriage is a sin.”
Her point about ‘disease’ isn’t a throwaway insult, either. When Section 377 was struck down in 2018, Rakhi congratulated the community, but advised them to still “stay safe” and use condoms. She even explained that the likelihood of HIV spreading through anal sex is higher. Our queen has some learning to do, but no one can say she isn’t engaged, informed, and interested.
These are among the points older feminists love to bring up when I say Rakhi is a queer, Gen Z icon. What they fail to understand is that you can’t expect political purity from her. She resonates not because she’s a paragon of virtue and all things nonproblematic, but because, beneath her slurs and jokes, there is tenacity and truth.
Rakhi has evolved over the past year or two. As an ardent fan, I have observed her brand shift from outlandish to outspoken. She went after Jaya Bachchan when the latter insulted her beloved paparazzi; she stood by student protesters and called out the government; and she has been taking on Kangana Ranaut ever since the MP asked women not to be influenced by “feminazis”. On Independence Day, she distributed food among children.
Is a relaunch of her Rashtriya Aam Party in the works? I’m sure her hari mirch symbol will get more than 15 votes this time around. More than one placard during the CJP protest demanded that Rakhi Sawant be made prime minister.
The more likely version of events, however, is that Rakhi is taking up space in a way she was never allowed to before. Netflix has started offering her review videos on YouTube. That’s about the same gig that American drag queens Katya Zamolodchikova and Trixie Mattel have. She’s a regular feature on reality shows. And on the feed, Gen Z and queer people don’t just love her for the laughs. Not to use an overused word, but we love her for her vulnerability and, more and more, her opinion.
That’s why I think the contest is Rakhi’s homecoming. It’s time for her to consolidate her core base and lock down the rainbow votes. Whether that’s for her next reality show or elections, only time will tell.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Ratan Priya)