emphasized that marriage falls within the exclusive legislative domain.
The judgment, while acknowledging the rights of queer individuals to cohabit and form relationships, drew a firm line against judicially expanding the definition of marriage.

Though the Court spoke eloquently of dignity, privacy, and non-discrimination, its refusal to read these values into the Special Marriage Act has been viewed by many as a step backward in India’s constitutional journey. It is particularly notable that the Court, while upholding the right to love and partnership, left matters such as adoption, inheritance, and spousal benefits untouched—rendering queer partnerships structurally unequal before the law.

In sharp contrast, the Madras High Court, in a significant ruling delivered on May 22, 2025, recognized that "marriage is not the only route to constitute a family." The case pertained to a habeas corpus petition filed by a lesbian couple seeking protection from coercive familial interference. The Court went beyond mere protection; it observed that the idea of a family cannot be restricted to biological or marital ties and must encompass "chosen families" grounded in emotional and functional interdependence.

Drawing on foundational constitutional judgments—such as Navtej Singh Johar v. Union of India (2018), Justice K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India (2017), and Supriyo Chakraborty v. Union of India (2023)—the High Court held that LGBTQIA+ individuals are entitled to live with partners of their choice, form relationships, and receive State protection against familial or societal hostility. Importantly, the Court reprimanded the police for failing to act upon the couple’s complaint, reaffirming that constitutional morality must triumph over majoritarian values.

This divergence between the apex and the high court reveals a layered constitutional discourse. While the Supreme Court has taken a restrained approach—possibly to preserve institutional legitimacy and defer to Parliament—the Madras High Court has adopted an interpretative strategy that expands the boundaries of liberty and familial autonomy.

The challenge now lies squarely before the legislature. The judiciary, despite its moral compass, cannot substitute legislative function. The lack of political will to address the rights of LGBTQIA+ persons—either through an amendment to the Special Marriage Act or a new civil union framework—continues to delay justice for millions of Indians. The government’s assurance of forming a committee to study civil unions remains unfulfilled, rendering the constitutional promise of equality incomplete.

At stake is more than just the legalisation of same-sex marriage—it is about the recognition of equal citizenship, dignity in domestic life, and freedom from structural exclusion. The Indian Constitution, in its spirit and letter, mandates the State to eliminate discrimination and foster inclusivity. Courts, especially the High Courts, have become the torchbearers of this vision, but without legislative support, their pronouncements risk remaining symbolic.

In conclusion, the struggle for marriage equality is not merely a battle for legal status; it is a test of India’s democratic commitment to its most marginalized communities. The courts have spoken—some cautiously, others courageously—but the ultimate responsibility now rests with Parliament to ensure that the arc of justice bends firmly towards equality.