Dance Chose Me Before I...: Manish Poonam On Identity, Queer Representation, Finding Creative Voice- EXCLUSIVE
Pride Month 2026 exclusive: Actor, dancer, choreographer, content creator, and digital storyteller Manish Poonam has built a unique space for himself through authenticity and artistic expression. From discovering himself through dance to advocating for more honest queer representation in Indian entertainment, Manish's journey is one rooted in self-awareness, empathy, and creativity.

In an exclusive conversation with Filmibeat Assistant Editor Abhishek Ranjit, Manish Poonam opened up about his deep connection with dance, his approach to acting, the evolution of queer narratives in Indian cinema, and the lessons he's learned about identity and self-expression.
Here are excerpts from the interview
1. Dance has been such a defining part of your journey. What first drew you to it, and what has kept your relationship with dance evolving over the years?
I've been dancing since childhood. My mother tells a story about how she danced constantly during the first four months of her pregnancy, not knowing she was pregnant.
When she found out, she smiled and said, "That's why you're a dancer today." I don't know how much of it is coincidence or destiny, but I like to believe that dance chose me before I chose it.
At first, dance was an escape. It didn't feel like the real world. It felt like a pause from it. A place where I could breathe, exist, and feel enough. Over time, it became my first love. The kind that stays, teaches, and shapes who you become.
Dance gave me confidence and a way of seeing the world I didn't know existed. It sounds simple to say it gave me wings, but the truth is deeper. Today, dance feels like breath. Without it, I don't think I would be here becoming an actor, a content creator, a choreographer-director. Everything I've built traces back to movement.
My relationship with dance is deeply personal. It's my journal. I speak through my body what I can't always say in words. It may look mysterious to people, and I think that's beautiful. Mystery allows emotion to live in layers.
Dance is my blank canvas. I've poured every version of myself into it. Every colour, every phase. And it has always carried me forward.
I could talk about dance endlessly, because explaining it feels like explaining love, life, or my bond with my mother. Some relationships don't need definition. They just need honesty.
For me, dance is that truth!!!
2. As an actor, you get the chance to step into different lives and emotions. Has playing certain characters changed the way you understand yourself off-screen?
I prefer to keep my work as work. I absorb the learning through action and apply it within the performance itself, not in how I live my life. I don't want my personal choices to be driven by a written or fictional character. I want my life to be led by me not by a role I've played.
We are constantly influenced by stories, anyway films we watch, books we read, narratives we consume every day. What matters is awareness. Knowing what's right, what's wrong, and where to draw boundaries. That awareness creates clarity. And clarity gives you the freedom to choose what shapes you and what doesn't.
3. Many performers talk about acting helping them confront parts of themselves they hadn't fully explored before. Has that happened to you?
When you step into someone else's shoes, you begin to understand why they do what they do. That's where empathy comes from. Every character carries layered emotions, many of which are emotions we've all felt at some point but never really expressed. In real life, we often suppress things like anger or vulnerability because they can be harmful or uncomfortable. Acting gives those emotions a safe space. You're not expressing them as yourself, but through the character the scene demands.
Through that process, you start learning about yourself, too. You understand how you react, what triggers you, and how certain emotions live in your body. In a way, the character sits within your skin while you're performing, and that's how self-discovery happens.
At the same time, I'm careful not to confuse performance with real emotion. Acting can create strong imagery in your mind, shaped by scenes you've played or images you've seen. If you're not aware, you might start repeating those imagined responses in real life. But real emotions are personal. How I experience sadness or anger is different from how a character does.
So yes, acting has helped me explore myself, but I believe in keeping a clear boundary. Characters open doors to understanding, but real life has its own truth.
4. Queer representation in Indian entertainment has evolved significantly in the last decade. What shifts have stood out to you the most as both an artist and an audience member? Do you think Indian cinema and OTT storytelling are finally moving toward more honest, layered queer narratives; or are we still stuck in certain stereotypes?
Yes, it has evolved a lot. The biggest shift for me is that there are simply more queer stories being told now, and more on the way. We've clearly moved away from a time when queerness in Indian entertainment was mostly treated as comic relief. Today, there is a genuine attempt to tell more human stories. That said, I wouldn't say we're fully there yet. There are still very few representations that feel truly real and authentic, but the direction feels right.
As an audience member, I feel hopeful. Queer narratives are growing, but many of them still remain limited to festival films and niche spaces. They aren't reaching mass audiences the way they should. I think a big shift will happen when queer characters are slowly and naturally integrated into commercial cinema, without making them
comic or "special cases," and given the same emotional weight as any straight couple.
As an artist, I strongly believe normalization is key. The more we stop highlighting queerness as something separate, the easier it becomes for people to accept. The moment we label it too much, we create distance.
At this point, it shouldn't be a "queer love story." It should just be a love story. Adding to that, I feel queer lives and queer representation come with many layers, and those layers deserve honesty. Telling a queer story just for the sake of representation, or to earn a "progressive" stamp, is not enough.
I see this happening often, where queer narratives are created for visibility or audience appeal rather than genuine understanding. That intention shows.
If you're engaging with something you haven't lived, especially something this sensitive, the responsibility is higher. It requires effort, research, listening, and understanding how queer people actually live and what they've gone through. Representation without depth becomes performative.
I also feel we need to stop labelling characters as "queer characters." We've never called anyone a "straight character." The moment sexuality becomes the defining trait, it reduces a person to one aspect of their identity. Sexuality is a preference, not the entirety of someone's life. A character can exist fully, with desires, flaws, love,
and conflict, and still be queer without that being the headline.
We are still behind in how we look at characters through the frame of sexuality. Until we stop telling queer stories for the sake of it and start telling human stories with honesty, the representation will remain incomplete.
5. When you look at global storytelling around identity and queerness, where do you think Indian content is thriving, and where does it still need to grow?
When I look at global storytelling around identity and queerness, the biggest difference I notice is the absence of shame. Actors there don't approach queer stories as a risk. Whether they're out, closeted, or private about their identity, the focus remains on telling the story well. There's a freedom and courage in how deeply and honestly these narratives are explored.
What stands out to me is how experimental global storytelling is. Queer characters aren't added just to tick a representation box. Entire films and series are built around identity, relationships, love, struggle, and everyday life. These stories are allowed depth, messiness, romance, and vulnerability, and that's what makes them powerful.
In India, queerness is still often seen as a professional risk. Many actors fear being typecast or losing opportunities if they play queer characters. That fear is largely created by the industry itself. Change will only happen when people in positions of power choose to step into these stories with honesty, not to gain credibility, but to tell something meaningful.
Indian content also needs to move beyond stereotypes. Too often, it reflects assumptions rather than lived reality. What's missing is empathy, emotional depth, and an understanding of what it actually feels like to be queer. There are so many layers to queer lives that remain unexplored.
Cinema has an immense influence in India. It teaches, shapes perception, and creates awareness. That's why stories today need to be told with care, sensitivity, and depth. We need more queer stories, more risk-taking, and better storytelling overall.
Stay tuned for the second part of the interview.


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