I don’t know if your social media looks anything like mine, but my For You Page is currently flooded with memes and clips from 'Heated Rivalry'. For the uninitiated, Heated Rivalry is a show based on the book series of the same name by Rachel Reid. It chronicles the years-long relationship between two closeted players in the National Hockey League as they navigate their sexuality, passion, and love.

The show has taken the internet by storm for its unapologetic portrayal of queer love and pleasure. While some have criticised it for being too graphic, others argue that its depiction of gay joy is unlike anything they’ve seen before. Both responses are reasonable observations of the show, but I think Heated Rivalry brings forth a more nuanced understanding of what queerness and masculinity can look like. While the past decade has offered multiple examples of masculinity being redefined on screen, the show reinforces an important truth: being gay and being masculine are not mutually exclusive.

Another thing that caught my attention was how different South Asian representations of the queer community are. We often see ourselves as a culture built around modesty, and for the longest time, any association with queerness in India was labelled vulgar and unnatural. Even though we have moved far beyond this one-sided and deeply flawed understanding of queerness, it remains difficult to experience the freedom of not conforming to heteronormativity outside the privacy of four walls. Publicly displaying one’s queerness is still seen as a privilege, largely accessible to those from upper-class backgrounds, and our art and cinema continue to reflect this reality.

In South Asian cinema, queer narratives often exist in the margins or coded cautiously to be confined to private spaces, reflecting the social realities they emerge from. And yet, within these limitations, filmmakers have found powerful, inventive ways to portray desire, identity, and resistance. The following films offer a glimpse into how South Asian queer cinema navigates these complexities, capturing moments of love and longing while quietly, and sometimes boldly, pushing against the boundaries imposed on it.

Saim Sadiq’s 'Joyland' is a quietly devastating portrait of desire and repression in contemporary Lahore. Centred on a soft-spoken man who finds work at an erotic dance theatre, the film unfolds into a tender love story between him and a trans woman, while simultaneously tracing the emotional unravelling of the women in his household. Rather than framing queerness as spectacle, Joyland treats it as something deeply human. The film’s power lies in its silences and its refusal to offer easy resolutions in a world built to deny queer happiness.

You can stream Joyland on MUBI.

'Kaathal – The Core' approaches queerness through the lens of late-blooming self-realisation. Set in a small Kerala town, the film follows a middle-aged man whose long-suppressed sexuality comes to light, disrupting not just his marriage but the social fabric around him. What sets Kaathal apart is its compassion, for the man at its centre, for his wife, and for the community forced to confront its own prejudices. The film resists melodrama, instead offering a restrained, deeply empathetic exploration of love and duty. The film feels like a reflection of the quiet courage it takes to live truthfully after a lifetime of silence.

You can stream 'Kaathal - The Core' on Prime Video.

'Sabar Bonda' is a raw, intimate exploration of queer desire unfolding in the everyday landscapes of small-town India. The film traces the fragile connection between two men, capturing moments of longing that exist in stolen time and shared vulnerability. Eschewing grand declarations, Sabar Bonda leans into restraint, allowing unspoken emotions to carry its weight. In doing so, it reflects a reality familiar to many queer South Asians, where love is often shaped by fear and the constant negotiation of safety. The film’s strength lies in its honesty and its refusal to romanticise the limits imposed on queer lives.

Part of the anthology Ajeeb Daastaans, 'Geeli Pucchi' is a sharp, layered exploration of desire at the intersection of caste, class, and queerness. The story follows two women working in a factory, where attraction unfolds alongside power dynamics and social hierarchies. What begins as tenderness slowly reveals itself to be complicated, even unsettling. Director Neeraj Ghaywan refuses to sanitise queer narratives, instead confronting how oppression can shape intimacy itself. Geeli Pucchi stands out for its willingness to examine queerness not in isolation, but as something deeply entangled with the structural inequalities of Indian society.

'Geeli Pucchi' is available to stream on Netflix.

Based on Sachin Kundalkar’s novel, 'Cobalt Blue' captures the ache of first love with remarkable sensitivity. Told through the perspectives of a brother and sister who both fall for the same enigmatic man, the film explores queerness as longing. Set in 1990s Pune, Cobalt Blue is steeped in nostalgia, using memory and restraint to mirror the emotional confinement of its characters. The film lingers in uncertainty, reminding us how queer love, especially in the past, often existed as something fleeting and painfully out of reach.

'Cobalt Blue' is available to stream on Netflix.

If you enjoyed reading this, here's more from Homegrown:

5 Underrated Regional Films That Portray The Everyday Reality Of Queerness In India

Inside The Feminist, Anti-Caste, & Queer Heart Of India’s Goth Movement

The Prose & Pain Of Hoshang Merchant, India’s First Openly Queer Poet