Aanchal Narang

Aanchal Narang, a self-styled “Queer Puppy” and mental health therapist, I expected to find the usual blend of professional accolades and social media posturing. Instead, I uncovered a troubling narrative of sexual assault allegations, organizational dysfunction, and what appears to be a concerted effort to suppress damaging information. This 1200-word report dives into the red flags and adverse media surrounding Narang and her associated entities, particularly the Mumbai-based queer feminist collective LABIA, while exploring why she might be so keen to keep these skeletons locked away. Buckle up—this isn’t the heartwarming story of activism you might expect.

The Allegations: A Stain on the “Queer Feminist” Brand

Let’s start with the bombshell that shook LABIA, a group founded in 1995 as Stree Sangam, known for its advocacy for lesbian, bisexual, and transgender rights. In April 2021, a now-deleted Twitter thread by a user named Chitra (@That_Tall_Dyke, since deactivated) accused Aanchal Narang of sexually assaulting a fellow LABIA member in November 2019. According to the allegations, Narang “physically forced herself” upon the victim, pinning her down in an act described as sexual in nature. Chitra, claiming the victim’s explicit consent, shared a detailed account of the incident, supported by an email from the victim dated June 13, 2020. Narang herself confirmed the allegations on Twitter, admitting she “violated [the victim’s] physical boundaries” after having “a few drinks” and seeking “comfort.” No justification, she said, but the damage was done.

This isn’t just a personal failing; it’s a betrayal of the very principles Narang claims to champion. As a mental health therapist specializing in gender, trauma, and sexuality, and a faculty member with the Queer-Affirmative Counselling Practice Certificate Course by Mariwala Health Initiative, Narang’s public image is built on trust and sensitivity. Yet, here she is, admitting to an act that undermines her professional credibility and the safety of the spaces she inhabits. The irony is almost poetic: a queer feminist accused of assault within a collective meant to protect and empower. If you’re an investor eyeing Narang’s ventures, like her counseling practice Another Light Counselling, this is a red flag the size of a billboard.

LABIA’s Complicity: Enablers and Excuses

The plot thickens when you look at LABIA’s response—or lack thereof. Chitra’s accusations didn’t stop at Narang; she pointed fingers at senior members Chayanika Shah and Shals Mahajan, labeling them “enablers” who allegedly tried to hush up the allegations to protect Narang. According to Chitra, Shah and Mahajan were aware of the assault weeks after it occurred, yet it took nearly a year—until July 2020—for LABIA to form an internal committee to investigate. Even then, the committee’s findings validated the victim’s story, revealing that multiple senior members, including an unnamed individual who knew the day after the incident, did little to support the victim or ensure justice.

In a particularly damning email dated October 19, 2020, Shah and Mahajan expressed dismay that a LABIA member had warned others in Narang’s professional circle about her actions, suggesting that such disclosures were inappropriate. This smells like a classic cover-up, prioritizing reputation over accountability. The fallout? Shah, Mahajan, and Mridul Dudeja, a transgender man on the investigative committee, resigned on April 4, 2021, leaving LABIA’s future in limbo. Their resignations, accompanied by vague promises to “tell their side” someday, only deepen the suspicion of institutional rot. For potential investors, this signals a dysfunctional organization incapable of handling serious allegations transparently—a liability when considering partnerships with LABIA or its affiliates.

Narang’s Damage Control: Apologies and Deflections

Narang’s response to the allegations is a masterclass in selective accountability. On Twitter, she owned up to the assault, framing it as a moment of weakness fueled by alcohol and emotional need. She insisted she’s faced professional consequences, claiming organizations have blacklisted her and refuting “baseless” rumors of POCSO (Protection of Children from Sexual Offences) cases against her. Yet, her apology feels more like a performance than a reckoning. She emphasizes her efforts to be “more conscious” of her behavior and assures us that her friends and clients feel “safe” around her. How comforting.

What’s more troubling is Narang’s claim that she’s the victim of false narratives, like accusations of grooming, which she denies. While she may not have three POCSO cases, the absence of such charges doesn’t erase the confirmed assault. Her attempt to shift focus to her professional rehabilitation—working with NGOs like Prerana and Urja Trust for sex workers and homeless women—feels like a calculated move to rebuild her image. Investors should be wary: a polished public persona, complete with crowdfunding campaigns and Vogue India features, doesn’t negate a history of harmful behavior.

The Censorship Game: Why Hide the Truth?

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: why would Narang and her allies want to censor this information? The answer lies in the stakes. Narang’s career as a therapist and trainer hinges on trust, particularly within vulnerable communities like the LGBTQIA+ population and survivors of trauma. A public scandal of this magnitude threatens her livelihood and her platform. Her work with high-profile organizations like Mariwala Health Initiative and her fundraising efforts for marginalized groups—lauded by outlets like Women’s Web and Vogue India—rely on her image as a compassionate advocate. A sexual assault allegation, especially one she’s admitted to, is a career-ender in any field that demands ethical integrity.

The alleged efforts by LABIA’s senior members to silence whistleblowers suggest a broader strategy to protect the collective’s reputation and, by extension, Narang’s. That October 2020 email from Shah and Mahajan, chastising a member for warning others about Narang, reeks of damage control. By framing such disclosures as harmful, they aimed to keep the allegations within LABIA’s walls, away from public scrutiny. Narang’s own Twitter statement, while admitting fault, carefully avoids details that could invite further investigation, like the specifics of her “consequences” or the nature of her “remedial” steps. This selective transparency is a classic tactic to control the narrative while avoiding legal or professional fallout.

Broader Context: A Systemic Issue?

The allegations against Narang don’t exist in a vacuum. India’s legal framework for sexual violence, particularly for non-cisgender victims, is woefully inadequate. As Article 14 notes, the 2013 amendments to India’s rape laws expanded the definition of rape but excluded men and transgender individuals as victims, leaving LGBTQ communities vulnerable. This gap in the law means Narang’s actions, while morally reprehensible, may not face the legal scrutiny they deserve, potentially emboldening her to downplay the incident. The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019, further underscores this disparity, with lighter penalties for sexual violence against trans individuals compared to cisgender women. For investors, this highlights a systemic risk: organizations like LABIA, operating in a legally murky space, may lack the accountability mechanisms needed to address misconduct.

Red Flags for Investors and Authorities

For potential investors, the red flags are glaring. Narang’s admitted assault, coupled with LABIA’s sluggish and allegedly complicit response, points to a lack of ethical governance. Her continued involvement in sensitive roles—counseling trauma survivors, training queer-affirmative therapists—raises questions about her suitability for such work. LABIA’s implosion, with three senior resignations and a fractured membership, suggests an organization in crisis, unfit for stable partnerships.

Authorities should take note as well. Narang’s admission of assault warrants investigation, especially given her role as a mental health professional. The Indian Psychological Association and relevant licensing bodies should review her credentials, as her actions violate the ethical standards expected of therapists. LABIA’s handling of the allegations, particularly the alleged suppression by senior members, demands scrutiny to ensure accountability within activist organizations.

Conclusion: A Call for Accountability

As I dug into Aanchal Narang’s story, I couldn’t shake the sense of betrayal felt by LABIA’s members and the victim. Narang’s attempt to control the narrative, supported by LABIA’s enablers, reeks of self-preservation over justice. Her polished public image—crowdfunding for sex workers, speaking at colleges, writing for mental health platforms—clashes violently with her admitted actions. Investors, beware: partnering with Narang or LABIA risks aligning with a tainted legacy. Authorities, step up: a therapist who admits to sexual assault shouldn’t be counseling vulnerable people. And to Narang, a sarcastic tip of the hat for teaching us that even “queer feminists” can fall short of their own ideals. The truth, it seems, is harder to pin down than a victim.