Durga Sob: Nepal’s trailblazing Dalit feminist

This interview-report first appeared in the New Internationalist, May 2010, Issue 432. You can find it online here [pdf file].

Durga Sob was just 10 when she realized she was from the Dalit, or ‘untouchable’, class of Nepal: ‘I drank from a water pot that other people used, and by sharing this water, I’d made it ‘unclean’. I was screamed at and chased away. I told my mother and she said: “God made us Dalit, that’s just the way it is.” It was then I knew the pain of being a Dalit, and had to do something to change things.’ The injustices experienced during her childhood in the remote village of Silgadi in western Nepal inspired Durga to found the Feminist Dalit Organization (FEDO) to fight against caste and gender discrimination.

“I felt it was no good if I were the only one who was educated; I had to educate others”

Nepal is one of the poorest countries in Asia and Dalits represent around 20 per cent of the population. The term ‘Dalit’, chosen by the community itself, means ‘broken people’, and although caste discrimination was outlawed in 1963, its practice remains widespread. Dalits are considered polluting and suffer an apartheid of segregation: ‘[We] are often denied proper housing, access to healthcare and other public services, like use of water taps and temples,’ says Durga. ‘Dalit women suffer a triple oppression, and are at the bottom of the pile. As women they’re second-class citizens anyway, but as Dalits they’re subjected to social exclusion, and as the poorest group in Nepal, they experience chronic poverty.’ Indeed, more than 90 per cent of Dalit women live below the poverty line and life expectancy is just 51 years, as opposed to a national average of 59. Education is also denied to many Dalits. Around 80 per cent of Dalit women are illiterate and the first milestone Durga achieved was being admitted to school: ‘My mother, a wonderful woman, encouraged me, despite everyone saying she was wasting her money.’ Dalit girls traditionally work at home and are married young. Despite continual discrimination and bullying, Durga completed school by the age of 16. Realizing that she was equal to her classmates, and again breaking Dalit rank, she started teaching English to other Dalits: ‘I felt it was no good if I were the only one who was educated; I had to educate others. I would bring all the girls to my home and teach them. After this, many went to school and completed their education.’

Moving to Kathmandu when she was 19 years old, Durga started working for ActionAid and it was here that she met the US feminist Robin Morgan and told her about the situation for Dalit women. Although there were many projects which were working to empower Nepali women, none had been initiated to address Dalit women’s specific issues. Morgan encouraged Durga to form FEDO in 1994. The early days were difficult: ‘We needed seven Dalit women on the board before we could register FEDO and it was hard to find educated and committed Dalit women, they were so oppressed.’ Moreover, women in urban areas did not wish to expose themselves as Dalit. Durga also experienced prejudice from other women activists: ‘High caste women would not accept us and I was routinely excluded.’

Durga was, however, used to chronic discrimination and continued to strive for inclusion: ‘Initially, FEDO was small and focused on informal education and income-generation programmes. We began our work in the Lalitput district and held literacy classes for 50 elderly women. These were successful, so later we focused on formal education, health, sanitation, advocacy and awareness.’  FEDO now works in 45 districts in Nepal and has 40,000 members. Some 3,000 Dalit children were sent to school after FEDO’s school enrolment campaign. In addition, 50 Dalit health workers have been trained, 5,000 women have benefited from microfinance programmes, and 2,000 Dalit women’s groups have been established. Nepal is, however, a country in recovery after 10 years of a civil war which ended in 2007, and because of their perceived association with the Maoist guerrillas, the Dalit community bore the brunt of the violence. Dalit women are particularly vulnerable to all forms of gender violence, including domestic abuse, trafficking for prostitution and rape as a weapon of war. In response to this, FEDO began working in partnership with the British-based organization Womankind to establish healing and support units for Dalit women survivors of violence. There are now four centres and almost 1,800 women have benefited: ‘The healing centres have seen an overwhelming response and for the first time, Dalit women have been able to break the taboo of talking about the violence they’ve experienced. Many now understand that violence doesn’t have to be a part of their everyday lives.’

Also crucial to empowerment is education around rights, and FEDO makes use of CEDAW, the international bill of rights for women, as legislative support: ‘We provide training for women about how to file cases to police to ensure that they have equal access to justice,’ explains Durga. ‘Women often immediately practise what they have learnt and CEDAW is seen as a basis on which to fight back against oppression. This is a vast shift in perception for Dalit women.’

The current post-war situation in Nepal, as well as being a time of challenge, also represents an opportunity for the community. Following the 2006 Peace Agreement, political parties are currently formulating a new constitution for the country: ‘Up until now, in terms of participation and representation, there have been no Dalit women in positions of power. However, this is changing: 25 Dalit women have been elected as members of the Constituent Assembly and this is one my happiest achievements. The constitution-making process is a unique opportunity to ensure that the constitution will guarantee equality and, for the first time in Nepali history, Dalit women are represented in political processes.’ Durga’s pride is palpable: ‘It’s taken 15 years, and it’s still early days, but FEDO has created an environment where Dalit women have started to see themselves as respectable citizens.’

***
Durga Sob spoke with Claire Colley for the New Internationalist (NI). According to the description here [pdf file], the NI workers’ co-operative exists to report on issues of world poverty and inequality; to focus attention on the unjust relationship between the powerful and the powerless worldwide; to debate and campaign for the radical changes necessary to meet the basic needs of all; and to bring to life the people, the ideas and the action in the fight for global justice.

Comparative Contexts of Discrimination: Caste and Untouchability in South Asia

Excerpts from the paper by Surinder S. Jodhka & Ghanshyam Shah, Working Paper Series, Volume IV, Number 05, 2010
Indian Institute of Dalit Studies, New Delhi

Read the full paper here
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Breaking ranks with the Government of India, the foreign minister of Nepal, Jeet Bahadur Darjee Gautam during a meeting of the United Nations in September 2009, welcomed the inclusion of caste based discrimination against Dalits as a case of human rights violation, to be treated at par with the racial discrimination. This move of the Nepalese government opened-up way for implementing the proposal mooted by the UNHRC to involve “regional and international mechanism, the UN and its organs” to complement national efforts to combat caste based discrimination.
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While caste indeed has a religious dimension and it finds legitimacy in religious texts of the Hindus, it is also a socio-economic system[1] which shaped local economies, social and cultural entitlements and political regimes. In other words caste was much more than an ideological system. The idea of caste and associated social and economic structures persisted with varied religious tradition of the South Asian region.
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Similarly, the Sinhala Buddhist communities of Sri Lanka seem to defy the theological position of their faith. Even when no one is “unclean” in the sacred meaning of the term, social anthropologists have documented the presence of caste like hierarchies, identification of occupations with social groups and even “outside untouchables” (Banks 1960; Leach 1960; Ryan 1993).
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However, it is the colonial constructs and theoretical models of caste that continue to dominate not only the popular but also academic imagining of caste. Even the leaders of nationalist movements in the subcontinent accepted this colonial common-sense on caste quite uncritically. Thus when the new states were formed, of India, Pakistan and even Sri Lanka, it was only India which had Hindu majority, recognised the need to deal with caste and untouchability and made provisions for the uplift of those who had been kept out of the system, the untouchable whom the colonial rulers had designated as Scheduled Castes.
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Though caste continues to be an important category of kinship and community classifications in Pakistan, Dalit question is a little more complicated there. Given that the term Scheduled Caste is still officially used for the “untouchable” communities of its small Hindu minority and that almost the entire Christian population of the country are converts from Dalit Chuhras of Punjab, caste question gets closely entangled with the minority question in Pakistan. However, quite like Bangladesh, caste and untouchability also exists among the Muslims of Pakistan. Though the mainstream Islamic ideology completely denies any place to caste in Pakistan, its presence, in the form of social intercourse, birth based occupation, segregation in residence and taboo in social relationship is very widely recognised and plays an important role in structuring kinship and political economy of the country (see Alavi 1972; Gazdar 2007). Popular categories with which Dalits of Pakistan are identified are not completely alien to Indians. For example Mochi (cobblers), Pather (brick maker), and Bhangi (sweeper) are mostly Muslims and considered “lower” castes on the basis of their family occupation, regardless of their religion. There are other titles, such as Musalman Sheikhs, Mussalis (both used for Muslim Dalits) and Masihi (Christians) universally refer to specific groups of people, also identified with specific occupation and used to segregate them from the rest as “untouchable” groups. It is not only the Dalits who are identified through caste names. Others too have caste names and maintain caste boundaries…

One of the most striking features of South Asia is the association of Dalit communities with certain types of jobs. For example, the cleaning of streets and latrines, dealing with dead animals, casual and bonded labour on land are almost everywhere identified with Dalit communities. Not only are these low status jobs, invariably they are also low paid jobs. Another common feature of Dalit life in these four countries is their residential segregation. They seem to be either living in segregated settlements away from the main village, or in the urban slums where living conditions are generally poor. The experience of untouchability and discrimination was also a shared reality but its details varied.
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The pre-colonial Sri Lankan state was built around caste-based privileges of the ruling elite and hereditary and mandatory caste services of the bottom layers in society. Unlike the Hindu caste system founded on the basis of religious notions of purity and pollution, the caste systems in Sri Lanka have relied more on a kind of secular ranking upheld by the state, land ownership and tenure, religious organisations and rituals, and firmly-rooted notions of inherent superiority and
inferiority. The official requirement and support to the caste systems has indeed eroded over the years but the state has also turned a blind eye to the deprivations caused by caste discrimination. The militant Tamil movement led by LTTE also imposed a ban on the practice of caste for consolidating Tamil identity, which only turned it into a kind of underground reality, not to be confronted openly through politics and policy.
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Dalits in Bangladesh also face discrimination in political sphere as well as in civic life. Many of them reported that they were not treated well even by the doctors and nurses in hospitals and clinics. They were also not allowed entry into their houses. The Hindu Dalits faced much more discrimination in religious life. They were not allowed entry into temples and were discouraged from participating in religious/community functions. Though in past some sections of Muslim Dalit
communities such as Lalbegi, Abdal and Bediya, (popularly known as Arzal), engaged in occupations such as toilet cleaning and garbage collection were often not allowed entry into mosques, there seemed to be no such restriction in place any longer. However, otherwise, the condition of Muslim Dalits did not seem to be any better than those of the Hindu Dalits. The number of Muslim Dalits complaining about practice of untouchability against them in tea shops was much higher (around 40 per cent) than the Hindu Dalits (around 15 per cent). Same was the case with having access to hotel rooms. Access to water from public and private sources was also denied to both categories of Dalits.
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Caste and religion have always been interwoven in complex ways. While Hinduism has often been seen, and rightly so, to provide a theological justification to caste hierarchy, the Pakistani state uses Islamic identity and ideology to completely deny the presence of caste in the social and economic life of country even when caste-based identities and caste related discrimination are quite rampant in the country, including among the Muslims. Such official denial of caste also works to the double disadvantage of the Hindu and Christian Dalits of Pakistan. While being members of a small religious minority, they confront a hostile majoritarian state and civil society; being Dalits they also remain marginalised within their own religious communities.
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Caste divisions and differences have perhaps not been as strong in countries like Sri Lanka, Bangladesh or Pakistan as they have been in India, or in some of its regions. However, unlike India, there has been no recognition of their special situation as socially excluded and deprived. Since the states in these countries do not recognise caste, they also do not collect data on their numbers and around variables of their economic status. In contrast the state policies have played a critical role in producing Dalit elite, which has played an important role in articulating Dalit aspirations and identity. No such process is visible anywhere else in South Asia. In this context Gellner’s  observation made about Nepal is worth quoting. Writing in 1995, Gleener observed:

… Nepalese state has so far taken no measures of positive discrimination in favour of those disadvantaged by the caste system, as have long been in place in India. Thus, in spite of the changes… it remains true that traditions, practices and ideas which have long been rendered controversial in India are still in Nepal relatively uncontested parts of everyday life (Gellner 1995:2).
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Read the full paper here

Footnote [1] For example, some scholars stress that the origin of caste system lay in the nature of agrarian production and generous of surplus in early agrarian system (see Klass 1980; Yurlova 1989). Similarly, some others have pointed to primacy of the political in structuring caste hierarchies in India (see Raheja 1988; Quigley, D. 1993)

The story of Govind Majhi

- Pravin Patel

Pravin Patel is a human rights activist and president of the Tribal Welfare Society. Read the full essay on  jharkhand.org.in

I would like to share the story of Govind Majhi, a tribal youth of 29 years, living in a remote tribal village known as Patua, amidst forests of Latikata Block of Sundergarh district in Orissa. During my over 12 years of working with tribals in many tribal areas of our country, I have met several youths many of whom have developed as good dedicated volunteers who work for the welfare of their community in and around their area, but Govind Majhi is one youth who is totally different from others, who has proved that poverty can not come in the way if there is a strong determination and confidence to address the poverty.
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I invited him and others to discuss about our organizational matters. Govind also called in few of his villagers to have talks with me. I learnt that almost all of them are very poor, making living as daily wage earners. They stated that for the first time in his life, they have met people who work for poor as their friends. Govind was anxious to say so many things in that short time. I also noticed tears in his eyes. I advised him that if he can come with me and stay with us for that night, we can discuss at great length. He promptly agreed. It was little over 9 PM when we reached Pantha Niwas at Rourkela where we were staying. I and Govind talked till about 3 in the morning which I share with you all in shape of a real story.

Patua is a small village with a population of about 3,000, almost all are poor tribals. No internal roads, no electricity, no high school, no college, no doctor in the primary Health Centre is the reality of development. Ganju Tola where Govind resides with his father, wife and 2 ½ year daughter is a part of the Patua, which is part of Bad Dalki Gram Panchayat in Latikata block of Sundergarh district of Orissa.

Govind Majhi, hero of our true story was born in the year 1981 to Kali Majhi (father) and late Raibara Majhi (Mother). He has a younger brother Laxman Majhi and two married and one unmarried sisters. They own, besides their small house, is one and half acre of non-irrigated land on which, except paddy, nothing is grown.

What is poverty was not known to Govind Majhi in his childhood days. The family used to take one meal a day which was considered as a routine as almost all the houses same was the practice. A private secondary school that had come up at Bad Dalki was also instrumental in bringing in change in the lives of the Majhi family, thanks to the efforts of Govind. At the age of 17, he studied up class IX and X in that secondary school. Here he came in contact with other students, some of whom became his friends. He used to visit them at their houses where for the first time in his life came to know that they not only take two meals a day but also enjoys breakfast and have other luxuries. He was in dilemma, not able to understand the realities of life.

He asked his father why they do not eat two meals a day as his friends do at Bad Dalki. Kali Majhi, his father tried to impress upon him that he is now grown up, it is time for him to understand hard realities, if he wants to survive, as they are poor, they can not afford the luxury of meals twice a day. Paddy grown in their one and half acre of land is not enough for one year, if they take meals twice a day. All the rice will be finished in five to six months. What they will eat for the rest of the year till new paddy arrives? What ever little money he earns working as a daily wage earner is not enough to meet other requirements. They will die of hunger, if they eat twice a day. Govind was upset by learning lessons of the realities of life. His father even advised him to keep away from visiting houses of his friends. Young brain of Govind was in puzzle as to why they are poor and his friends at Bada-dalki are rich. He decided to talk to his friends.

Next day he asked his friend at the school, how many acres of land they own? He was surprised to know that they had no land at all. He got confused as how without land they manage to have so much rice that feeds them twice a day throughout the year. Another friend informed that they have eight acres of land that gives them enough paddy that is much more than what they require, as such they sell those surplus paddy to buy other necessities.

After a week or so, on a Sunday morning Govind reached his friend’s house that had no land at all. Here he understood that besides land, jobs in the state and public sector also helps to earn salaries with which they can buy all the rice and other food stuff as well as fulfill other social and economical requirements. He wanted to know, how his father can also get a job that can earn him salary. He understood that jobs are not easy, since required educational qualification is a must for getting any job, which is neither with him nor with his father. He understood that the circumstances in which they are living do not permit him to go for higher education as there is no money to buy even books. He realized that even he can not they can start working Govind learnt one more lesson to put at rest the question that haunted his mind.

Instead of getting disheartened, he decided to accept it as a challenge that he will not accept it as their fate but will do every thing that can bring in the change. He decided to discontinue studies after class X and work with his father as a daily wage earner to earn money that can help his younger brother Laxman to go to college at Rourkela. He discussed with Laxman who ultimately agreed to do what ever is best in the interest of the family. This was the turning point for the better for Kali Majhi family.

Govind after finishing class X at Bada- Dalki left the studies; joined his father to work full time on his farm and also working as a labourer to earn wages. His brother Laxman studied hard as was greatly inspired by the sacrifice of his elder brother. He went to Vedvyas and Rourkela where he not only graduated but also cleared his Diploma in Electrical engineering with good results. One out of many of his applications for jobs; finally he got a call from the Indian Railways with whom he now works in their electrical department, presently posted at MALDA in West Bengal.

Majhi family not only now enjoys food twice a day but also afford to spend money on other needs and comforts they need. Govind has one mobile phone through which, he is in regular contact with his brother and married sisters. Kali Majhi is now 65 years of age. He has stopped working as a neither labour nor works at his farm any more. Govind sighs to say that his mother died of cancer seven years back, was unlucky to see the change in our lives. He regrets that if the change would come few years earlier, she would have died happily. He gets disturbed to say that his mother never enjoyed the luxury of eating two meals a day.

Govind also proudly says that Laxman has made two Fixed Deposit of Rs.10, 000/- each i.e. Rs. 20,000/- in the name of his younger unmarried sister Jasumati so that with that money with interest, they will spend in her marriage. He intends to make one more fixed deposit of Rs. 10,000/- later in this year. He has also paid all the money that was spent for the marriage of one of his sister few years back. Besides, the same Laxman also paid medical bills of about Rs. 8,000/- that was spent in the illness of one of his sister and also of his father. Laxman’s college friends are also employed elsewhere. Three of them are in BSF, five are police constables, one is with HAL at Sonabeda and five are at Rourkela Steel Plant.

Now Govind aspires to bring a change in his village. He states that in the name of development what they have got in last sixty years is one Anganwadi, a primary school that has classes up to class VIII, few tube wells that often goes dry in summer. Rivulet which flows round the year is at a short distance of ½ kilometer but only Kudar Tola residents are given the facility of lift irrigation that irrigates their 20-25 acres of land. No internal roads or lanes in the village. During rainy days, it is extremely difficult to ride bicycle or even walk on those muddy and marshy lanes full of pits. No electricity though power lines are not far off. The post office is a one man show with postman performing duty from postman to postmaster.

Primary Health Care centre is a cement concrete structure with no medical staff, forget about doctors. He says, nobody has seen any doctor from the day that health centre has been constructed. No ambulance has ever come to their village. When some one falls seriously ill, they used to take the patient, lifting with cot to take to Latikata, walking all the way. Now they take patients to the main road, from where they take them to Latikata or Rourkela by bus or Auto Rickshaws that ply regularly.

He adds saying that just as they suffered, there are many families in Patua who are as poor as they were one day. They also manage with one meal a day to survive. He adds to say that when guests arrive at some ones house and they have no rice in the house, they manage by taking from some ones house to be returned later on. Govind wants that all the villagers should come out of their tragedies at the earliest, as they have managed to do so. Rs. One or Two per KG rice scheme has no doubt helped few families but neither all the families have cards nor the quantity they get in a month is sufficient for them. He says instead of giving us rice at Rs. One or Two per kg, give us water from the rivulet that flows round the year near to their village to produce rice that they need. He also lists elephant menace as one more area of problem.

About NREGA, he says that till date no work has been done under NREGA at his village. The only work done is to construct a road from Deditola to Kendu Berli, which is five KM away from their village. They demanded work near to their village but no result. Even after the road work is over before one and half year, no payments has been made till now. Villagers have gone several times to Sarpanch and also to BDO but all in vain. Sarpanch says he has submitted all the required papers while BDO informs that the papers are incomplete and not sufficient.
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What am I supposed to do now?

- Rhoda Alex

An unconscious but definite collective of shared memories and actual experiences relating to caste has been stashed away in the recesses of my brain and body.  These have made me wiser (I believe) and cautious about the way I deal with people. This collective has not turned me into a raging revolutionary as it should have!  In the words of Dr.Izzeldin Abuelaish, ‘I have the right to feel angry.’ But I don’t feel much at all. However, thanks to the bold new generation of friends in the social media who ‘think’ – I too have started to think. So, like a bovine (there you go), I settle down and the caste cud gushes forth from my insides, eager to be chewed!

Just a little background information – I was brought up entirely in Chennai, I went to convent schools, I lived in middle class environments and had a happy childhood.  My parents’ instruction to us was on the practical lines of discipline and example.  They did not talk about caste oppression though they distinctly made us feel proud of our caste which I later on found out was ‘not that low’.  Their goal for our lives was clearly to practice the Christian faith, to study well, to be happy, to get a good job and to be kind – nothing else mattered!! But even in this protected life, caste does leave its mark and I am not quite sure what to do with it.

Some memories and experiences in random order

1. A recent incident: I saw an old lady in the middle of the road trying to cross it. She was standing at the same spot even after I had finished my quick shopping. Deciding to help her crossover, I went over gesturing to guide her by placing my hand reassuringly on her arm. She smelled and looked fresh manjal (turmeric) – going to or back from a ritual. ‘DON’T TOUCH’ she said in English.

2. I must have been in my 8th or 9th standard and was travelling to Bombay by train alone. My brothers ensured my safety in the ladies coupe.  I remember that my co-passengers were a vegetarian family group and I had bought a non-vegetarian dinner.  So when they started eating with gusto, I said I will go to the upper berth where I was to sleep and have my dinner there.  Half-way into my chicken and chapathi combo – the lights were switched off!  After repeatedly calling out to the aunties to switch on the lights in vain, I blindly felt and finished my dinner in the dark. My Frooti tetrapack straw rolled away in the dark and so I ingeniously used my hairpin to make a hole and sip out the mango juice. After which I slept peacefully.  I don’t remember the rest of the journey as being unpleasant either.

3. Around a year back, our family was driving home after church and I thought I saw something drop from the scooter which was going a little ahead of us.  We were separated by many other two wheelers who didn’t stop to alert them. Not very sure whether something dropped or not…we anyway decided to race up to them and confirm. It took us a good 3 or 4 minutes to catch up and signal them to stop at the sides. They did reluctantly – an old man and his daughter. She immediately confirmed that an important document in a plastic cover is missing – but before she could turn to retrieve, the old man gave us a shocker.  In a very disappointed and thankless tone, he said in the distinct upper caste Tamil lingo, “Couldn’t you have told us a little earlier”?

4. My mother once told me that when she walked in a particular street in her village – the upper caste woman who lived in that street used to stand in front of her house and shout ‘othadi, othadi’ (move away) when she saw  my mother and other such people using the street. This was to ensure that they did not go too close to her entrance doorway!

5. Over the years, I have read Indian English short stories (I ignored Tamil Literature till recently) that were ruthlessly transparent about caste atrocities. But they were just stories I read – even Bayen by Mahasweta Devi did not trigger me. I was not affected directly and we were anyway only appreciating the literary contribution.

6. Yes, I have seen headlines and statistics about untouchablitiy and victims harassed to death. I have seen a couple of Tamil movies that touched upon the topic here and there along with their comedy tracks.

7. Some months ago, I was sharing tips with my maid who helps me in the cooking and cleaning. She is a widow who was severely abused by her husband, slightly deaf in one ear, superstitious, sincere and hardworking. She has migrated to the city with three children and life goes on. She belongs to a ‘low caste’.  I happened to mention that beef when cooked in a particular manner is very tasty.   She was aghast.  She took two steps backward away from me in my already small kitchen.  She exclaimed – “Oh my God, do you eat beef?” her body wrenched and her face distorted – she added, “I didn’t know that. How disgusting” she finished.

8. I have heard a very funny story too.  One of my grandfathers was a firebrand. The upper caste people in his village did not allow others to draw water from the only well in the village.  So after repeated squabbles over the use of water – he masterminded and executed the following deed.  One night he mixed human and other available faeces and threw the mighty mixture into the well in dispute!!  Apparently the war was won. The water was potable after many moons.

I urge readers to see the pattern in these incidents and memories, to acknowledge the fault lines in the upper caste attitude, the feeling of upper-casteness in anyone who has even one caste below them, the naïve stupidity we exhibit by accepting bad behaviour as natural, the feigned ignorance and stoic apathy of those who have escaped the caste disadvantages.  These recounted details have not in any way stopped me from achieving a good life. I am blessed and lucky?

So what am I supposed to do now? I live a comfortable life.  I have many upper caste friends whose friendship I cherish.  When I looked out for a school for my children I made sure that there are decent people there (decent means a combination of caste and class). The sad truth is that the caste system has been so cleverly designed and propitiated that even the so-called low caste members mete out the same treatment to those castes that are perceived to be slightly lower than them! And if we successfully escape ‘caste’ claws, we rapidly fall prey to the ‘class’ claws.

I am aware – but what am I supposed to do? Why am I turning a blind eye to the people still suffering from caste related issues?  Why do I give more importance to global warming, animal rights etc.? I do not want to hate or curse. I want a future, a hope.  I do not want to dig up the past.  But will such idealistic thinking lead anywhere?  What with the upper caste’s clear dominance in today’s world.  I know for sure that in the corporate world and the giant IT companies, the top positions are for them.  The powerful ‘media’ that have gained acceptance, readership and viewer ship are definitely owned and run by the upper castes.  Whatever is praised as classical, heritage, culturally significant and praiseworthy here in South India almost always bears the upper caste mark.

Should I keep remembering the fact that some of my ancestors were not even allowed to cover their breasts in front of upper caste persons? Many of them were ill-treated for wanting to be educated. What about the fact that lower caste people are still (i.e. in 2011) denied basic rights in many regions of India.  Then, I should also remember that there were shining stars from the upper caste such as Mahakavi Bharathiar, who challenged his own community and its injustices. Where are the new Bharathiar’s? Are there no more Kamaraj’s?  All everyone wants to be is a Tata Birla Ambani Mallya.

Will an equitable society be possible with our children studying in city schools that are caste or class conscious? Schools which are not conscious are either hopelessly expensive or hopelessly poor quality.
I am no activist but I do not wish to be passivist either. What am I supposed to do?

- Rhoda Alex

P.S.  Happy to add that my maid and I have reconciled. She confessed later that she has tasted pork.
P.P.S.  If you have the time, read this interesting free online book. This book is not about caste and was written in 1914 .
P.P.P.S.  There is one more incident in my poorly maintained blog, if you have the appetite for more ramblings. It even led me to do further research!

Rhoda Alex, contrary to what the name may suggest, is a Tamilian from India. She is a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour and a freelance communication design consultant.

தீண்டாமையைப் பற்றி பெரியார் பேசுகிறார் Periyar speaks on untouchability

குடி அரசு 1925 – தொகுப்பு 1 – பெரியாரின் எழுத்தும் பேச்சும்,

வெளியீடு: தந்தை பெரியார் திராவிட கழகம், 2003

Kudi Arasu (Republic) 1925 – Anthology 1 – Periyar’s Writing and Speeches,

Published by Thanthai Periyar Dravida Kazhagam, 2003

காரைக்குடி ஜில்லா முதலாவது அரசியல் மகாநாடு
முடிவுரை

Karaikudi District First Political Conference

Concluding remarks

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இப்படி நமது நாட்டில் தீண்டாமை, பார்க்காமை, பேசாமை, கிட்ட வராமை ஆகிய இவை ஒருவரையாவது விட்டவை இல்லை. ஒருவர் தனக்குக்கீழ் இருப்பவரைத் தீண்டாதவர், பார்க்காதவர் என்று சொல்லுவதும், அதே நபர் தனக்குமேல் உள்ளவருக்கு தான் தீண்டாதவருமாகவும் பார்க்கக்கூடாதவராகவும் இருப்பது வழக்கமாயிருப்பது மாத்திரம் அல்லாமல், இவர்கள் இத்தனை பேரும் சேர்ந்து நம்மை ஆளுகிற ஜாதியாயிருக்கிற ஐரோப்பியருக்குத் தீண்டாதவராகவும், இன்னும் தாழ்மையாகவும் இருந்து வருவதையும் நாம் காண்கிறோம். இந்த முறையில் தீண்டாமை என்பதை ஒழிப்பது என்று சொல்வது கேவலம் பஞ்சமர்களை மாத்திரம் முன்னேற்ற வேண்டுமென்பதல்லாமல் அவர்களுக்கு இருக்கும் கொடுமைகளை மாத்திரம் விளக்கவேண்டும் என்பதல்லாமல் நம் ஒவ்வொருவருக்குள் இருக்கும் இழிவையும், கொடுமையையும் நீக்க வேண்டும் என்பதுதான் தீண்டாமையின் தத்துவம்.

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So in our country, untouchability, unseeability, untalkability and unapproachability have not left out a single individual. It is not only in practice for an individual to name someone below him as untouchable and unseeable, while the same individual is untouchable and unseeable to one above him – but also to find that they are all untouchable and lowly in front of our ruling caste, the Europeans. In this case, we cannot say that the abolishing of untouchability is solely to bring progress to the Panjamar and to only undo the cruelty that is done to them. The philosophy of untouchability is that we must, every one of us, remove both the abasement and the cruelty that is within us.

இதைச் சொல்கிறபோது ஆ! தீண்டாமை விலக்கா? பஞ்சமரையா தெருவில் விடுவது? அவர்களையா தொடுவது? அவர்களையா பார்பெதேன்று ஆச்சரியப்பட்டுவிடுவார்கள். நம்மில் ஒரு கூட்டத்தாராகிய சூத்திரர் என்று சொல்லிக்கொள்ளும் நாம்,நம்மில் ஒருவன் சூத்திரன் என்று அழைக்கும் போது ஆ! நம்மையா, சர் பட்டம் பெற்ற நம்மையா, ஜாமீன்தாராகிய நம்மையா, லட்சாதிகாரியாகிய நம்மையா, சத்திரம் சாவடி கட்டிய நம்மையா, தூய வேளாளனாகிய நம்மையா, பரிசுத்தனாகிய நம்மையா, உத்தமனான நம்மையா, மடாதிபதியான நம்மையா, இன்னும் எத்தனையோ உயர்குணங்களும், எவ்வித இழிவுமற்ற நம்மையா தேவடியாள் மகன், வைப்பாட்டிமகன், அடிமையென்று அர்த்தம் கொண்ட சூத்திரன் என்று சொல்லுவதென ஒருவரும் வெட்கபடுவதேயில்லை.
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When I say this, people will be react with astonishment: Oh! Abolishing untouchability? Should the Panjamar be allowed on the street? Them? How can we touch them? How can we see them? And, yet, one group of us call ourselves Shudra. When one of our own calls us Shudra, we are not ashamed by this thought: Oh! We who have been given the title of ‘Sir’, we who are zamindars, lakhpatis, we who have built rest houses for travellers, we who are pure Vellala, we who are saintly, chaste, religious leaders, and who possess so many high qualities, who are without any blemish…are we to be called children of Devadasis and mistresses and be named slaves – for that is the meaning of Shudra – we do not feel ashamed in this manner.

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பறையன், சக்கிலி முதலியோரை நாம் ஏன் தொடக்கூடாது, பார்க்கக்கூடாது என்கிறோம் என்பதைச் சற்று கவனித்தால் அவன் பார்வைக்கு அசிங்கமாயிருக்கிறான், அழுக்குடை தரிக்கிறான்; அவன்மீது துர்நாற்றம் வீசுகிறது; அவன் ஆகாரத்திற்கு மாட்டுமாமிசம் சாப்பிடுகிறான்; மாடு அறுக்கிறான்; மற்றும் சிலர் ‘கள்’ உற்பத்தி செய்கிறார்கள் என்கிறதான குற்றங்கள் பிரதானமாகச் சொல்லப்படுகிறது. இவற்றை நாம் உண்மை என்றே வைத்துக்கொள்வோம். இவர்கள் பார்வைக்கு அசிங்கமாகவும், அழுக்கான துணிகளுடனும், துர்வாடையுற்றும் ஏன் இருக்கிறார்கள் என்றும், இதற்கு யார் பொறுப்பாளி என்றும் யோசியுங்கள். அவர்களை நாம் தாகத்திற்கே தண்ணீர் குடிப்பதற்கில்லாமல் வைத்திருக்கும்போது குளிக்கவோ வேஷ்டி துவைக்கவோ வழியெங்கே? நாம் உபயோகிக்கும் குலமோ, குட்டையோ, கிணறோ இவர்கள் தொடவோ, கிட்ட வரவோ கூடாதபடி கொடுமை செய்கிறோம். அதனால் அவர்கள் அப்படியிருக்கிரார்கலேயல்லாமல் அது அவர்கள் பிறவிகுணமாகுமா? …நாம் தான் அவர்களின் இந்நிலைக்கு காரனமாயிக்கிறோம்.

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சொற்பொழிவு : குடி அரசு 7.6.1925, 21.6.1925, 28.6.1925

முழு உரை இங்கே

If we look at why we name the Paraiyar and Sakkiliar as untouchable and unseeable, we will hear reasons such as: they are ugly to look at, they are dirty, they stink and they eat beef, they cut the meat of cows, some others manufacture arrack – these are the crimes that are prominently listed. Let us even assume that they are all true. If they are ugly, dressed in dirty clothes and of bad smell, think about why they are like this and who is responsible for this state. If we do not give them water to slake their thirst even, where will they find water to bathe or wash their veshtis? We torment them by not allowing them to even touch or approach the ponds and puddles and wells we use. Is that not the reason for their state, rather than some inborn quality?…We are responsible for their present condition.

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Speech: Kudi Arasu 7.6.1925, 21.6.1925, 28.6.1925

Drawing caste

These are pictures taken at an art show organised by Save the Children at Gulmohar Park, Ahmedabad, on Children’s Day in 2010. Children have portrayed the various forms of discrimination they see and face in these drawings.

The description is a set of questions that follow after this 13-year-old artist says how ashamed he feels when he is made to sit separately during the mid-day meal. "What if I was not a a dalit?"

This drawing is by a 15-year-old child labourer who picks cotton. It shows a Patel family inside the temple, while the Solanki family is standing far away.

The Patels have bigger and sturdier houses, while the Solankis have smaller ones. The well is full of water but out of reach for the Solanki community, whose women go far away to fetch water

These pictures are from vmallya’s Flickr photostream.