Framed, Not Freed: Bureaucratization Of Trans Identity In India

The judgment in NALSA v. Union of India (2014) was historic, not just for its re-imagining of transgender as a “third gender,” but also for rooting this re-imagination in constitutional morality. Based on provisions in Articles 14, 15, 19(1)(a) , and 21 of the Indian constitution , the Court reaffirmed entitlements to dignity, autonomy, and self-description— highlighting that gender identity is core to liberty. But declaratory power is only one side. A decade after, NALSA is more talked about than followed. This article interrogates its transformative ambition, scrutinizes the legislative and policy implications—focusing on the Transgender Persons Act (2019) — and argues for a more ambitious rights-based legal architecture that fuses recognition and redistribution. Law vs. Reality: A Shaky Implementation While the Court mandated that governments ensure equal access to education, healthcare, jobs, and social services for transgender communities after NALSA, progress has been inconsistent. Many states have failed to establish functioning Transgender Welfare Boards or dedicate targeted funding streams. Some welfare programs only exist on paper, providing little material support. A central shortcoming lies in legal gender recognition. Despite NALSA affirming self-identification; local authorities frequently demand medical or psychological evaluations before issuing gender identity certificates. Trans individuals are regularly compelled to substantiate their internal sense of self—a practice the ruling had explicitly rejected as discriminatory. Without a formal enforcement mechanism, discrimination persists in schools, hospitals, workplaces, and police stations with little recourse. Transgender people continue facing barriers. Certification over Selfhood: The Legal Backsliding After NALSA The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act 2019 was intended to build on the achievements of NALSA but marks a legislative step backward based on the desire for bureaucratic control over an individual’s autonomy. Although the title of the Act is promising it actually undermines the heart of NALSA’s ruling, by transforming a self-identification framework into one shaped by state sanctioned and bureaucratized processes. Specifically: sections 5-7 of the Act require transgender persons/individuals to apply for a certificate of identity from a District Magistrate. Where a Trans person wishes to obtain recognition as male or female, proof of gender-affirming surgery must be provided. This is intrusive and direct contradiction of NALSA- which asserted that gender identity of an individual is based on self-determination without medical intervention. In effect, the Act lays-out hierarchies of legitimacy with respect to Trans identities. In addition- the Act only provides ephemeral references to non-discrimination, not regulations setting out penalties, enforcement processes or remedies. The Act criminalizes harm in name only and does not create opportunities for institutional design preventing harm. · The Act’s silence on reservations- a very important part of the NALSA framework- is glaring; without affirmative action, equality is simulacrum. · Worse even than that – the Act was passed without consultation with Trans communities; it is very clearly a top-down, paternalistic rights framework. Recognition is not enough : Socio – Economic Realities Whereas NALSA and the 2019 Act are concerned with identity recognition, they say nothing about the material deprivation that marks the lives of the majority of transgender individuals in India. · The literacy rate of transgender individuals in the 2011 Census stood at only 51.06% below than national average 74% -numbers which probably underestimate the full extent of exclusion. · Despite legal recognition, Trans individuals continue to have deep-seated obstacles to shelter, education, and health. Schools are still places of harassment and dropout; government hospitals are not trans-friendly, with inadequate trained personnel or welcoming policies. Even programs such as Ayushman Bharat, which now formally include transgender care, have bleak implementation. · Housing continues to be insecure: Trans individuals are regularly denied rental contracts and barred from shelters. In the absence of tenancy rights or anti-discrimination housing legislation, even government programs remain out of reach. · Layered exclusions get worse for Dalit, Bahujan, Adivasi, and disabled Trans individuals—communities rendered invisible by the uniform legislative framework. State and central welfare schemes tend to demand gender-matching documents, shutting individuals out of their rights if legal recognition doesn’t match lived identity. Recognition alone will not tear down structural violence. A rights framework must incorporate redistributive justice and intersectional protections. Developing a Trans-Affirmative Legal Framework While the Indian legal framework is comparable to England and South Africa in its stated protections against discrimination based on a person’s sex, it is lacking in legislation that protects against discrimination based on a person’s gender identity and gender expression. While both article 15 prohibits discrimination on the basis of “sex”, the protections that exist under the Indian Constitution have not yet been fully realized with action from the necessary corrective amending legislation. What is needed now is a dedicated statute (similar to the UK’s Equality Act and South Africa’s Promotion of Equality and Prevention of Unfair Discrimination Act). A law of this nature must: · Define and prohibit direct, indirect, structural, and intersectional discrimination; · Apply to both public and private actors alike; · Provide civil remedies including compensation, injunctions, and organizational accountability; · Create equality commissions at both national and state levels to oversee implementation. Affirmative action must be part of any recent legal structure. As suggested by the NALSA recognition, we need horizontal reservations for Trans people as part of affirmative action in education and public employment as remedial measures of social disadvantage and inequity. Among other things, the state governments of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka include Trans persons within the OBC/MBC classification or a reasonable quota in public service examinations. Most importantly, Trans communities must have a seat at the table of law-making—they need to be practitioners of the law in terms of the drafting process, applications of the law, and in bodies which hold jurisdiction over the implementation and monitoring of the law. Appropriately engaging Trans communities makes sure their dignity is not interpreted or processed through a cisnormative or bureaucratic lens. Remember too that equality is not given, but built into. Recognition Is The Floor, Not The Ceiling A decade since NALSA, it is clear that recognition without redistribution is not enough. Transgender persons continue to
The end of the love of Sania of Baghpat and Dalit youth Sagar will make you cry, both paid a heavy price for falling in love

The walls of religion and caste in Baghpat killed a love story. The society did not accept the relationship of Muslim girl Sania and Dalit youth Sagar. In this case of honor killing, Sania was murdered, while Sagar is still missing. Baghpat News: A case of honor killing has come to light from Baghpat in Uttar Pradesh, which will shock you. This love story that came to light from Baghpat will shake your heart. Another love story has died in the name of society’s thinking and false honor. Let us tell you that Sania and Sagar loved each other. Sania was from a Muslim family and Sagar was from the Dalit community. This relationship between the two became the reason for their death. What is the whole story? The incident is from Palda village of Doghat police station area of Baghpat. Sania was from the Muslim community and belonged to an influential family of the village. While Sagar was the son of a Dalit and poor labourer. Sagar worked at a brick kiln in Himachal Pradesh. When Sagar returned to the village on festivals, both of them started meeting each other. Slowly with time, their relationship turned into love. But people bound by the chains of society, religion and caste could not accept this relationship. Caught while trying to escape According to the information, both of them tried to meet each other several times secretly from their families and run away together. The last time they ran away from the village, the family members caught them on the way. After this, Sagar was beaten badly and thrown somewhere in a half-dead condition. While Sania was taken home and first killed and then suffocated by placing a pillow on her face. Attempt to hide murder Let us tell you that after the murder of Sania, her body was quietly buried in the village graveyard. Due to the village being Muslim majority, no one raised any question for two days and the matter was completely suppressed. The secret was revealed by the father’s plea During this time, when there was no news of Sagar, his father started searching. After this, the father lodged a complaint with the police about his son’s disappearance and feared that his life was in danger. Understanding the seriousness of the matter, the police started investigating. Some suspects were detained and the revelations made during the interrogation shocked everyone. The secret of the murder was revealed during interrogation The layers of the entire murder case started getting revealed during the interrogation of some suspects detained by the police. During interrogation, the accused created a sensation by confessing to the murder of Sania. After the confession, the police took immediate action and dug up Sania’s grave and took the body into custody and sent it for post-mortem. On the other hand, Sagar is still missing and no clue about him has been found, which has further deepened the concern about the case. Manudev Upadhyay Courtesy : Hindi News
Cast(e) in stone: An exploration of how inequality exists in a global village, and not just India

Here the author traces anti-caste movements across the world, their political assertions, setbacks, achievements. What offers an interesting insight is how Dalit organisations beyond the shores are not sponsored or supported by India-based institutions. In July 2023, a video went viral of a dominant caste man, reported to be a Brahmin, urinating on a tribal man in Madhya Pradesh. The latter sat slouching and the culprit, identified as a ‘pandit’, towered over him, urinating on his face and body. More disturbing than the incident was the support the culprit subsequently received from his community. In September 2024, in Karnataka’s Dakshina Kannada district, a 67-year-old Dalit man was brutally assaulted by a high-caste Gowda shopkeeper with a wooden pole when the former sought shelter from heavy rain and wanted to rest near the shop. More recently, in Uttar Pradesh’s Etawah, a group of upper-caste men allegedly tonsured the head of a katha vaachak (religious preacher) and his aide after finding that they hailed from the Yadav community. Shortly after this incident, in Odisha’s Ganjam district, men of the Dalit Pana community were beaten up and forced to crawl with grass blades between their teeth and also to drink drain water by so-called Savarnas (dominant castes). They were alleged to have smuggled cattle which came out to be a falsehood. These are just a tiny sample from a regular flow of such news from across India’s vast geography and cultural landscape. The political dispensation of a state hardly makes a difference. Caste consciousness, in all its shameful manifestations, is ingrained in the Indian psyche, and except the occasional expression of disgust and surprise, such incidents hardly shake the national conscience in any effective way. But is it just an Indian phenomenon? Caste beyond borders After penning Caste Matters and co-authoring The Radical in Ambedkar, Suraj Milind Yengde has come out with his latest to shed light on caste’s obstinate tendency to exist and stir societies in faraway lands and climes. Caste: A Global Story is an outcome of the author’s decade-long research based on historiography, archival resources, ethnography and personal encounters, bringing to the fore contemporary Dalit experiences among the Indian diaspora from the Caribbean to Europe, to Africa, to the Middle-East and to South Asia. A WEB Du Bois Fellow at Harvard University, Yengde is a world-renowned scholar on caste studies. Named among the ‘25 Most Influential Young Indian’ by GQ magazine, he spent his childhood in Nanded, the headquarters town of the district by the same name in Marathwada. The region has been home to one of the most radical forms of Dalit politics for over a century where visions of Kabir and Ravidas found resonance among the underprivileged before—aided by a Dalit-Black bond and BR Ambedkar’s ideas of fighting upper-caste dominance —it created an early template of Dalit political activism. The author writes with a position of seeing and experiencing caste politics at close quarters. Literature as resistance A deep insight is offered into literature becoming a powerful starting point of Dalit assertion of identity and dignity. It has been a way to reclaim an area, which from time immemorial remained out of reach for the oppressed and as an exclusive domain of the dominant, particularly Brahmins. It helped challenge the age-old narrative of impurity and punishment and assert Dalit agency. A comparative study of Black and Dalit literature brings out similarities and points of divergence. While both said how discriminations were institutionalised, Dalit literature looked at caste hierarchies couched in religious and social sanctions whereas Black subjugation stemmed from centuries of slavery and a system of apartheid based on colour. What tied the two strands was a spirit to rise above hardened debilitating subjugation. A substantial fieldwork is done in Trinidad, one of the earliest destinations of indentured labour from India where 40% of the population is of Indian origin. A majority of them belong to low-caste hierarchies. Yengde meets community leaders and tries to understand the caste dynamics on a distant land from their ancestors’. Do castes play a role in Trinidadian society? Interestingly, they do, but only in religious institutions and in trying to find worship and fellowship in the Hindu dharma. They are nearly absent in people’s lives in terms of intense rigidities found in India. Conversations with people like Pandit Amar Sreeprasad, an Ahir by caste; Pandit Parasaram who draws a Brahmin lineage; and Ravi Maharaj, an RSS functionary, are interesting and revealing. The author traces anti-caste movements across the world, their political assertions, setbacks, achievements. What offers an interesting insight is how Dalit organisations beyond the shores are not sponsored or supported by India-based institutions. They do appear as a disparate set of anti-caste believers under the banner of Ambedkar, Ravidas, Valmiki, Dalit Christian or Buddhist congregations, but somewhere their commitment to raise their community issues and seek social justice unite them into a single bloc. Yengde makes the point that the ability of caste to transcend time and space must be analysed through its multiple ‘diasporic nations’ that draws from one site of origin —India. He has also been immensely successful in bringing out parallels that exist in experiences of caste and race oppression, making a case for a global solidarity to fight inequalities. At the same time, an appeal goes out to dominant castes, who are carriers of social and religious creed that cannot tolerate human equality, to self-educate and agitate against the caste system rather than stand by it. Thought-provoking, the book offers quite a few new insights into caste dynamics in the global village that we live in. To borrow from Amartya Sen’s crisp Foreword, nearly verbatim, it is a remarkable work to understand and confront the challenges of cast-in-stone inequalities worldwide. Written by Amitabh Ranjan Courtesy : F E Leisure Note: This news is originally published on https://feleisure.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights.
From Bihar to Kerala, from women to Dalit-OBC… who will replace Dhankhar?

Preparations have started for the election of the post of Vice President in the country. Jagdeep Dhankhar resigned from this post on the first day of the monsoon session i.e. on July 21. Now all eyes are on the candidate for the post of Vice President, who will he be, what will be his background and from which state? After the resignation of Jagdeep Dhankhar, the chair of the Chairman of the Rajya Sabha is lying vacant. The monsoon session of Parliament is going on. In such a situation, now the Rajya Sabha is running without a Chairman. There is no doubt that after Dhankhar’s resignation, the government must have also started searching for the next candidate for this post. So far, separate meetings of many big leaders have also been held in Delhi. However, no name has been revealed yet as to who will sit on this chair, but discussions have started in the political corridors about different states. These states include West Bengal to Bihar and Andhra Pradesh to Tamil Nadu. Dhankhar’s resignation from the post of Vice President is being considered a big setback for the government. The way Dhankhar had embarrassed the government with his statements for the last few weeks is not hidden from anyone. As the Chairman of the Rajya Sabha, his confrontation with the opposition parties was also often in the headlines. Even his comments on the Supreme Court were in the news. While reacting to the Supreme Court’s decision regarding the Governor of Tamil Nadu, he even said that the courts cannot order the President. There were many other issues on which Dhankhar not only openly expressed his views but sometimes he also put the government in an uncomfortable position. What if there is a problem regarding Bihar? The Vice President’s chair has fallen vacant at a time when assembly elections are going to be held in Bihar. At present, there is an NDA government in Bihar and Nitish Kumar is leading it. Apart from this, there is also discussion about the states of South India. Assembly elections are going to be held in many states of the South next year. BJP is considered to be an expert in setting the equation just before the election. It is being speculated that to set its electoral equation in Bihar, BJP can play the Vice President’s card, but a problem is getting stuck in it that Harivansh Narayan Singh is already the Deputy Chairman of the Rajya Sabha, who comes from Bihar and is an MP from JDU quota. Nobody knows what will happen in Bihar elections, questions on Nitish too There is a lot of discussion going on in the political corridors that BJP will not touch Harivansh Narayan. This is because no one knows what will happen in Bihar elections. The biggest crisis in this is about Nitish Kumar. Perhaps BJP knows very well that no one knows when Nitish Kumar will turn back. Therefore, BJP’s full effort will be to select one of its leaders or someone associated with the organization for the post of Vice President, who at least does not try to make the government uncomfortable in future. If a leader of the allied parties sits on this post, then BJP may have to face pressure in future. To a large extent, BJP was looking similar in recent times regarding Dhankhar. Took oath as Vice President in 2022 On August 11, 2022, Jagdeep Dhankhar took oath as the 14th Vice President of India. Before being elected Vice President, Jagdeep Dhankhar was the Governor of West Bengal. He was appointed Governor in July 2019. During his tenure, he was in the news many times for his confrontation with the Mamata Banerjee government. Dhankhar, who hails from Jhunjhunu district of Rajasthan, was a lawyer by profession. He became an MP for the first time in 1989 and later also served as a minister in the Central Government. BJP is not only an expert in giving surprises, but also tries to capitalize on every small and big issue in the elections. In Lutyens Delhi, there is a buzz that this time BJP’s focus may be on the South. Even before the 2024 Lok Sabha elections, BJP’s focus has been more on the states of the South. BJP’s hold in the South is weak. The party wants to further strengthen its presence in the states of the South. This includes states like Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh. Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman comes from Tamil Nadu and has been handling the Finance Ministry since 2019. Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu as well as Sangh background Apart from Bihar, if any state is getting the most votes, it is Kerala and Andhra Pradesh. Venkaiah Naidu has also been the Vice President from Andhra Pradesh. Assembly elections are going to be held in Kerala next year. There is a possibility that BJP may appoint a leader associated with the organization in Kerala to this post. Apart from this, Andhra Pradesh is being discussed because there is a TDP government here and N Chandrababu Naidu is the Chief Minister. TDP is currently a part of NDA and is playing an important role at the center. Similarly, there are assembly elections in Tamil Nadu next year. With the intention of strengthening its hold in Tamil Nadu, BJP can declare someone from here as a candidate for the post of Vice President, but it is also believed that whoever BJP nominates for this post, the Sangh will play an important role in it and background will also be given importance. Woman or Dalit-OBC formula There is a growing discussion in the political corridors that BJP can adopt the Dalit-OBC formula along with the women formula to give a befitting reply to the opposition. Just like in the 2022 presidential election, BJP surprised everyone by making Draupadi Murmu its candidate. Draupadi Murmu comes from the tribal community. In the same way, BJP can adopt the Dalit-OBC formula
Dalit tractor driver assaulted: Lekhpal suspended in Khaga, police registered Dalit harassment case

The Lekhpal of Garha village has been suspended for assaulting a Dalit tractor driver in the Dhata police station area of Fatehpur district. The police have registered a case of Dalit harassment against the Lekhpal and one of his companions. According to the incident, Nanka Sonkar, a resident of Narihai village of Dhata police station area, alleged that when he reached the private borewell of Lekhpal Kailash Nath Shukla posted in Garha Khas village of Kishanpur circle with bricks in a tractor, the Lekhpal and one of his unknown companions abused and assaulted him without any reason. The victim had given a written complaint to the police and demanded action. On the basis of this complaint, the police have registered a case against the accused Lekhpal and his companion and started investigation. Dhata police station in-charge Ankur Kaithwas said that the matter is being investigated and further action will be taken on the basis of that. SDM Abhineet Kumar has suspended the Lekhpal with immediate effect. Vikash Trivedi Courtesy: Hindi News
The accused of molesting a Dalit minor has been declared absconding: In Sant Kabir Nagar, the victim was attacked with a stick when she protested.

The court has taken a tough stand in the case of molestation of a 13-year-old Dalit girl in Sant Kabir Nagar. The court of ADJ and Special Judge POCSO Act Krishna Kumar Pancham has issued a permanent arrest warrant against the accused Chandrashekhar Yadav. The accused is accused of doing obscene acts with the minor girl, beating her and using casteist abuses. The accused has been declared absconding due to his continuous absence in the case. The court has issued a permanent arrest warrant in four copies to the police station in-charge Dhanghata and ordered action. This incident is from a village in Dhanghata police station area. According to the complaint lodged by the victim’s uncle, on April 20, 2022, at around five in the evening, his niece was going to her field to collect straw. Meanwhile, the accused Chandrashekhar Yadav of another village started molesting her on the way. When the girl protested, the accused abused her with casteist abuses and hit her on the head with a stick. The girl’s head was broken due to this attack. The police registered a case of molestation, assault, POCSO Act and SC/ST Act and after investigation sent the charge sheet to the court. Sub-inspector Ram Darsh Yadav said that raids were conducted to arrest the accused, but he is absconding. Since there is no possibility of the accused being arrested immediately, the court has issued an arrest warrant against him in 4 copies. The station in-charge has been ordered that after the arrest of the accused, the file will be called from the archives. Ashutosh Vikram Singh Courtesy : Hindi News
Dalits will never believe BRS: AICC secretary Sampath Kumar

AICC secretary Sampath Kumar hit out at BRS MLA T. Harish Rao alleging that his statements on Kaleshwaram and water release by the government were incoherent indicating his frustration more than anything else. Speaking to reporters at Gandhi Bhavan on Saturday, Mr. Sampath Kumar said the government releases water based on need, in stages. It’s a continuous, planned process. He asked Mr. Harish Rao not to play to the gallery by warning that he would go and release water from the projects if the government doesn’t do so. “When water is released based on the needs, Mr. Rao will claim credit, saying it happened because of him. This is political opportunism and nothing to do with reality,” he said. Targeting BRS working president K.T. Rama Rao, Mr. Sampath Kumar wondered whether Dalits would believe the BRS party. “Don’t use Dalits as political tools. After 10 years in power, you have nothing to show except dismissing Dalit Deputy Chief Minister T Rajaiah overnight and using third-degree methods on Dalits protesting illegal sand mining,” he said. Unlike the BRS government, the Revanth Reddy government has four Dalit ministers, he said while accusing the BRS of diverting SC sub-plan funds. “We have allocated ₹30,000 crore for Dalit welfare. That is the real difference.” The Hindu Bureau Courtesy : The Hindu Note: This news is originally published on https://thehindu.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially humanrights.
Have you tried Dalit food?

Shahu Patole’s book Dalit Kitchens of Marathwada, artist Rajyashri Goody’s installation Eat with Great Delight, and Sri Vamsi Matta’s curated ‘Come Eat With Me’ events—all assert their caste identity in different ways Meenakshi SheddeMany years ago, I was working on an English translation of filmmaker Nagraj Manjule’s stunning book of poetry in Marathi, Unhachya Kataviruddha. He very graciously invited me to stay over at his and Gargee’s house in Pune during the long hours of back-and-forth, as I struggled to translate it accurately — Marathi is only my third language. One of his poems had the evocative phrase “kulkulit chaha”. Did you mean like kick-ass, strong tapri chai? I asked naively. Nagraj looked at me and said frankly, “We simply could not afford milk for tea.” Translation is not only a question of language and the subtext of the tea, but also the economic conditions in which the tea was made. Filmmaker Mari Selvaraj also turns two glasses of tea, a black tea and a milk tea, with a small mogra flower between them, into an iconic, most heartbreaking image in the climax of his remarkable film Pariyerum Perumal in Tamil. Not much is widely known about “Dalit food”, and related recipes, stories and culture. But there have been fascinating efforts to highlight this. These include Shahu Patole’s landmark book Anna He Apoorna Brahma (Marathi, 2015), translated as Dalit Kitchens of Marathwada by Bhushan Korgaonkar (Harper Collins, Rs 599, 2024). Gifted artist Rajyashri Goody has created installations Writing Recipes (2016) and Eat with Great Delight, the latter with family photographs and recipe booklets (2018). Born and raised in Pune in a half-Dalit, half-English family, she put together a series of recipe booklets, recipe-poems really, inspired by references to food in Dalit literature. She acknowledged that she was inspired by Shahu Patole’s book, and Isn’t This Plate Indian? Dalit Histories and Memories of Food by the Gender Studies Class of 2009 at Pune University. And there is theatre artist Sri Vamsi Matta, in whose “Come Eat With Me” events, cooking is an act of remembering, performance and a communal experience, by way of asserting his identity and defying everyday injustices. Shahu Patole’s remarkable book is possibly one of the first published Dalit cookbooks in India. Patole, who grew up in Marathwada, is a writer and retired government officer from the Indian Information Service cadre, who has worked in the Press Information Bureau, Defence PRO, All India Radio and Doordarshan. His book records a range of non-vegetarian and vegetarian recipes from the Mahar and Mang communities in Mara¬thwada, along with the social context, his personal memories and lived experiences as a Dalit. The recipes, like any other, are shaped by locally available foods and ingredients, as well as historical, financial and cultural factors, and “acquired through centuries of discrimination.” He writes of how upper caste Hindus, including Kayasths, Rajputs, and even Saraswat Brahmins, are often non-vegetarian, eating “meat, mainly goat, lamb, chicken.” He observes how, in the face of “vegetarian propagandists”, “non-vegetarians are made to feel immoral and guilty.” And of course, vegetarian moral police are increasingly common: housing societies and landlords won’t allow a non-vegetarian to live in the flat/society. He shares how the democratisation of media and social media has enabled Dalits to share their food stories. Food is a sensitive, and entirely personal issue. And Patole counters critics with his comment: “If people would really have become ‘satshil’ (good natured) by eating sattvic food, then the caste and class system wouldn’t have survived in this culture.” Mahars and Mangs traditionally disposed of dead animals, among other professions, and have been eating meat since before the Common Era — long before Muslims arrived in India, writes Patole. Commenting on the hypocrisy and exploitation of lower caste labour by Brahmins, he observes: “Untouchability was not followed while digging and construction work (of wells) was on. Though once they hit water, untouchability kicked in.” Traditionally, Mahars and Mangs also did a lot of labour for the landlords’ households: cleaning cattlesheds, cleaning the house, repairing plaster, feeding cattle, cutting wood: usually they are not paid money for such ‘minor’ work, but paid in leftover food, that’s how reheated leftovers have become a dish, ambura, meaning fermented, Patole explains. His meat recipes, and stories, include kalij (liver), boka (kidneys), khima (minced meat), rakti (animal blood), and even moholachi poli (honeycomb), the last cooked with onions, chilli powder and salt. And also vegetarian recipes, including pithla, kandavani (onion chutney), hula (roasted pods), tarvat (a leafy vegetable), ambadi (roselle) bhakri, dodya curry (raw figs) and chigur (tamarind flowers). Thank you to the team — Patole, Suchismita Ukil from Harper Collins and Bhushan Korgaonkar, for opening our eyes to worlds within. Meenakshi Shedde Meenakshi Shedde, film curator, has been working with the Toronto, Berlin and other festivals worldwide for 30 years. She has been a Cannes Film Festival Jury Member and Golden Globes International Voter, and is a journalist and critic. Courtesy : Mid-Day Note: This news is originally published on https://mid-day.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights.
Geeli Puchchi: A Messy Tale of Caste and Desire

“Geeli Puchhi,” one of the four segments within the film Ajeeb Dastans, directed by Neeraj Ghaywan, intricately weaves the narrative around two central characters: Bharati, a Dalit queer woman employed as a ‘machine-man’ in a factory, and Priya, a Brahmin woman who is also grappling with questions about her sexuality while working as a data operator in the same factory. “Bhool gayi thi kya hum Dalit hai? Table-kursi ka sirf khaana milega; table-kursi ka kaam nahi” (“Have you forgotten we are Dalits? They will allow us to eat at a table but not work at one.”) This line from the movie Ajeeb Dastans aptly encapsulates what many Dalits go through in the 21st century. It portrays a time when societal values profess to support the upliftment of Dalits, yet this support seems to wane when it comes to their involvement within the confines of their workplace or home. Society’s morality lies in a grey area, allowing it to treat Dalits like equals but only to the extent that they do not interfere in their designated spaces, like their home or workplace—just like in the movie when Bharati was ‘allowed’ to enter their house but not given the same utensil to eat from. “Geeli Puchhi,” one of the four segments within the film Ajeeb Dastans, directed by Neeraj Ghaywan, intricately weaves the narrative around two central characters: Bharati, a Dalit queer woman employed as a ‘machine-man’ in a factory, and Priya, a Brahmin woman who is also grappling with questions about her sexuality while working as a data operator in the same factory. This film stands out for its inclusivity, with the director being a Dalit person himself and the protagonist, for the first time in Indian cinema, being a Dalit queer woman. Both women in the movie are shown to be morally grey, which is also a break from the typical ‘aspirational heroine complex’ of Bollywood. Interestingly, they are confronted with the same underlying themes of gender, caste, and sexuality, yet their responses to them are extremely different, navigating the complex web of intersectionality in India in starkly different ways. Their inter-caste queer love is something that Bollywood or even the broader anti-caste discourse has not explored before. Although the film could be critiqued for casting an upper-caste woman (Konkona Sen Sharma) as a Dalit woman, it courageously ventures into territories previously unexplored in Indian cinema. The film’s cinematography is a standout element, effectively immersing the audience in Bharati’s humiliation and Priya’s profound sense of loneliness. The movie is divided into two main colours: blue and orange. This deliberate choice becomes evident from the outset, as Bharati is linked with blue and Priya with orange through their clothing. An interesting visual metaphor unfolds when Bharati enters the factory; the camera captures orangish cylinders on the ground, while Bharati and her fellow workers occupy the blue side. Interestingly, this symbolic use of colour is given more depth by the historical significance of blue, a colour favoured by Ambedkar for its representation of an egalitarian open sky, where all stand as equals. The tension between the difficulties faced by the blue-collared worker and her potential to break free embodies a sense of liberation and sustains the anti-caste colour of blue. Through this review, I try to highlight the intricate knots that bind individuals to their social contexts, shedding light on the multifaceted realities that shape lives in the world’s largest democracy. I also try to shed light on how different social factors affect the characters in the movie and whether any of the characters are ‘at fault’ for doing what they did, or if it is a bigger play of societal norms that led them to their actions. ‘Intersectionality,’ a term often discussed but rarely comprehensively understood, is the crucible in which identities are forged and disparities perpetuated. For many people in the world, understanding how social factors affect people’s daily lives is a struggle, but for those who do understand this, connecting more than one social factor becomes an even tougher task. Most people understand the hindrances of a lower-caste woman through one lens only—either her caste or her gender. More so, her sexuality, class, and other social factors are either ignored or seen as separate things entirely. Kimberlé Crenshaw talks about a case in a factory where Black women were not getting employment, whereas women in general were. The court dismissed the appeal for hiring Black women and said that they should not be allowed to create a ‘super-remedy’ outside what the relevant statutes stood for. This shows how people think social factors lie on a linear spectrum with no intersection. According to her, the main issue for Black women is that there is no ‘framing the problem;’ in the previous case, the court saw sexism and racism in play as an either/or but not as a combined form of oppression. The collective disparaging social factors of a Black woman are not framed. And because their identity falls under both a ‘woman’ and a ‘person of color’ category within public discourses that only look to respond to one or the other, the interests of a Black woman are often marginalized in both. This also leads to the burden shifting to the most privileged members of a group (Black men in the Black Lives Matter movement or white women in the feminist movement) and results in a ‘single-axis framework,’ which distorts the analysis of people affected by social factors. In the same way in India, the kind of problem a Black woman faces in the U.S., a Dalit woman faces in India. The phrase, ‘All women are upper-caste and all Dalits are men,’ shows the underlying ‘invisibilisation’ of Dalit women in broader anti-caste and feminist movements. A Dalit queer woman, like Bharati, becomes even more marginalized in broader caste, sexuality, and feminist movements. Her gender and her caste play a big role in deciding her position in the factory. She is seen as a ‘man’ because of her behavior, which
Caste Violence and the ‘Valmiki Caste’ in Haryana: Atrocities, Trauma, and Resistance

Casteist minds still resist the idea that a Valmiki can rise beyond socially imposed boundaries, that they too can become teachers, doctors, artists, or leaders. Atrocities against Dalits have been a big challenge for Dalits as well as governments. Because, as Dalits have been waking up about their rights, they have become objectives for casteist minds, and they have tried to break their confidence and even dismantle their leadership. The Indian caste system always endorses structures of social exclusion and discrimination. It would hardly be an exception to find a Dalit who has not experienced discrimination of some kind. The Valmiki community, a Dalit sub-caste traditionally associated with sanitation and manual scavenging, has particularly suffered under the weight of this oppressive system. The caste “Valmiki” does not refer to a single caste but rather a group of communities that were historically forced into occupations considered impure or degrading, especially manual scavenging and cleaning. Unfortunately, still today, Valmikis, who are associated with their hereditary professions, are accepted by Savarnas and Dalits also. However, if someone tries to establish him/herself, s/he would face dual exclusion from Dalits and non-Dalits. Even though India gained independence more than seventy-seven years ago and enacted a constitution that guarantees equality and dignity for all, many caste-bound occupations continue to function as inherited fates. Casteist minds still resist the idea that a Valmiki can rise beyond socially imposed boundaries, that they too can become teachers, doctors, artists, or leaders. This systemic prejudice is evident in many everyday situations and becomes glaringly violent in others. A striking recent example is the case of Jansu Chauhan, a Class 8 student at Christ Raja Convent School in Jind, Haryana. His father is a schoolteacher and his mother a homemaker. It was very unbelievable that an ignorable quarrel between Jansu and a classmate, Jivansh, during a telephonic conversation, turned into a horrifying episode of casteist abuse and threats because of Jansu’s caste identity. Following the argument, Jivansh’s father, Vikas Sharma, and his uncle, Deepak Sharma, called Jansu and unleashed a torrent of caste-based slurs—terms like “Chude,” “Chamaar,” and “Bhangi”—words that have been used for generations to shame and degrade Dalit individuals. The abuse went beyond words; they threatened to strip Jansu’s parents and kill him and his father, aiming to reduce the family to a state of terror. many difficulties, on May 17, 2025, Jansu’s mother lodged a complaint at Patiala Chowki in Jind. She described how her son had been harassed continuously for three years. She named not just the relatives of Jivansh but also a teacher, Hariom, who allegedly supported the harassment. She described that Vikas and Deepak Sharma often stood outside the school, harassed her son, and made videos to mock and intimidate him. However, the police delayed registering an FIR for eight days. When they finally did, on May 25, 2025, the FIR—registered as Case No. 179—only mentioned Deepak Sharma’s name. The other two accused, including the teacher named explicitly in the complaint, were excluded. The FIR invoked Sections 296 and 351(2) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) along with Sections 3(1)(r) and 3(1)(s) of the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989. But the selective naming of the accused and the delay in filing the FIR point to a larger issue: the collusion of caste and prejudices of state institutions. Even in a formal educational setting, and even when supported by a written complaint, a Valmiki child’s trauma was not taken seriously. Jansu has now stopped attending school. The trauma inflicted on him has not only interrupted his education but also left a deep emotional scar. After a few weeks, another shocking incident occurred—this time in the 12 Quarter Road area of Hisar district—on July 7, 2025, Ganesh, a minor young boy from the Valmiki community, was celebrating his birthday with his family. Loudspeakers were used during the celebration, reportedly beyond the legal time limits, which disturbed a nearby police outpost. What followed was a brutal overreaction by the police. Without a warrant and in the absence of a female officer—both in violation of standard legal procedures—the police forcibly entered the home. They beat members of the family, including women; Ganesh died during this trauma. Later, the video of the police attack circulated widely on social media, sparking anger and mourning. Members of the Valmiki community gathered at the Civil Hospital of Hisar, where Ganesh’s body had been taken for postmortem. They refused to cremate the body and demanded justice. Their demands were registration of an FIR against the officers involved, a CBI inquiry, termination of the involved personnel, financial compensation, and a government job for a family member. For ten days, from July 8 to July 17, they held a peaceful protest. The government initially ignored their demands and even issued a coercive notice under the Haryana Honourable Disposal of Dead Body Act, 2025, mandating cremation within 12 hours—a move widely seen as an attempt to suppress resistance. Finally, on July 17, after public pressure and ongoing protest, the government agreed to all five demands. Ganesh was cremated on July 18, 2025. The incident served as a painful reminder of other brutal caste crimes in Haryana—particularly Gohana (2005) and Mirchpur (2010). In 2020, a young man from the Valmiki community—Raman Valmiki—died under mysterious circumstances in judicial custody. His death also sparked protests by Dalit organizations, particularly by Balmikis. However, later investigation revealed that Raman’s death occurred due to health issues. Yet, it was still an institutional murder because it is the duty of the jail authorities to provide immediate medical facilities. One thing that must be discussed here is why all these atrocities have occurred specifically against the Balmikis. I investigated and found some answers to this question: Balmikis are not aware of the value of icons. Due to this ignorance, they are misled by misinformation and end up following icons who are not well established. Due to a lack of education, Balmiki representatives are fewer in the system than their proportion in the population.