Stories that spill past fiction at Verchol Dalit Literature Festival 2026
Two Dalit writers reclaim myth, memory and emotion, challenging demands for realism and the privilege of stories placed above human rights The Pamba river moves as its many droplets touch the lands they pass. It doesn’t stop. As the river completes its journey, it carries some from one bank to the other, holds some in its coolness. But at times, the river tricks too. It hides large rocks, and deep holes beneath the surface. The consequence? People slip and are taken away into the gushing water. The villagers residing on the bank of Pamba had a different story of the river. A powerful man who once created nuisance for the community was drowned there by the people. As he went under, he dragged 40 others with him. The river now holds 41 ghosts, and they pull the living down. Aleena, a Dalit poet and Ambedkarite feminist from Kerala, told this story at Muthamizh Peravai on Saturday, during the Verchol Dalit Literature Festival 2026, held as part of the fifth edition of Vaanam Art Festival organised by Neelam Cultural Centre. “People found the idea of a group conspiring against someone scarier than the danger of the river itself. These magical explanations reveal what people fear, what they value, and what they consider important,” she said. The session, moderated by writer and translator Reena Shalini, brought together Aleena and writer Vinil Paul for a conversation on Dalit history and fiction. Reena opened by reading a Tamil translation of a poem from Aleena’s collection of 91 poems, Silk Route, which received recognition from the Kerala Sahitya Akademi. The poem follows a woman who cannot attend a wedding because she has no proper sari, and the ghost of her absence haunts the celebration like silk draped over grief. The conversation turned quickly to what fiction is permitted to do. Aleena observed that Dalit writers face a persistent demand for realism, even in their imaginative work. “People ask which real incident a character refers to,” she said. “That is why Dalit autobiographies are celebrated more than fiction. Reality itself is seen as powerful.” Meanwhile, she argued, dominant groups treat their own stories as history worth protecting, sometimes above human rights. She pointed to the Ram temple dispute and the founding of Israel as examples of fictional or mythological narratives used to legitimise displacement and violence. “To place stories above human rights is privilege,” she said. On the question of emotional range in Dalit writing, Aleena shared, “Life is a mix of generational trauma and inherited pleasures.” She described pressure from audiences who expect Dalit writers to write only about suffering, and pushed back against it. “There is celebration, happiness, hope, small joys and big joys. People still do not believe we experience the full range of emotions.” Vinil, whose book Adimakeralathinte Adrishyacharithram examines the history of slavery in Kerala, turned to structural power. He cited Dr BR Ambedkar’s warning that India risked becoming an oligarchy and named Kerala as its clearest example. Two communities, Nairs and Syrian Christians, dominate the state’s political parties, media, cinema, and educational institutions, he said. “For almost 35 of Kerala’s 69 years of governance, the chief ministers have come from the Nair community.” Reservation functions as a token gesture in most institutions. Even KR Narayanan, who studied at the London School of Economics and became the President of India, faced caste barriers when he returned to Kerala. On Malayalam cinema’s celebrated recent run, Aleena offered little applause. “It is not democratic in terms of capital,” she said. “People who control the industry extract stories from marginalised communities, profit from them, and do not share that capital with the communities those stories come from.” She highlighted the film Lokha: Chapter 1 featuring Adivasi characters as examples of surface representation without genuine understanding. “I have always felt a lot of hypocrisy in Malayalam filmmakers when they deal with marginalised stories,” she noted. What the afternoon made clear is that the fight is not only over who tells the stories, but over who profits from them. When Aleena had arrived at the festival, she said she felt something rare. “Usually, I feel like I am given a chair in a place where I do not belong. This is the first time I feel like I belong to the entire space.” Vaanam Art Festival was a space Dalits had built for themselves, and that, as Aleena made clear, makes all the difference. Courtesy : TNIE Note: This news is originally published on https:/thenewindianexpress.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Police rescue dalit woman trying to end life after rape
Rural police saved a 26-year-old dalit woman from Paratwada who attempted to commit suicide on Monday by jumping in Wazzar Dam after allegedly being raped on the pretext of marriage. This was her sixth or seventh suicide attempt, said rural LCB PI Kiran Wankhade, reports Anil Jadhav. According to him, the woman was in a relationship with the rape accused. But when he refused to marry her, the woman lodged a complaint with Paratwada police who registered a case of rape and arrested the accused. Later, the accused assured to marry the woman. After woman’s submission, the court granted bail to the accused. But the accused backtracked soon after coming out of jail. As a result, the woman slipped into depression. SP Vishal Anand said the case has no connection with Paratwada sexual exploitation case which the rural police are investigating. Courtesy : TOI Note: This news is originally published on https:/timesofindia.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Write Mind | TCS Nashik Scandal: A Case For Muslim Society To Stand In Solidarity With Dalits
The case prompts fresh reflection on the often-highlighted slogan “Jai Bheem-Jai Meem,” first popularised by AIMIM leader Asaduddin Owaisi. At the Tata Consultancy Services BPO unit, eight women employees along with one male colleague have come forward with serious complaints of systematic sexual harassment, mental coercion, and alleged attempts at forced religious conversion. Nine complaints have been registered with the Nashik City police, leading to the arrest of seven individuals -mostly team leaders and an HR functionary – including people with names such as Tausif Attar, Danish Sheikh, Shahrukh Qureshi, Raza Memon, Asif Ansari, Shafi Sheikh, and Nida Khan. The incidents, reported from 2022 into early 2026, allude to a perpetual disturbing pattern rather than motley and scattered incidents: the complainants being young Hindu women and the molesters, Muslim men. Details emanating from the official complaints and the ongoing SIT investigation reveal a calculated approach. The accused, who held supervisory positions, purportedly focused on young Hindu women, largely between 18 and 25 years old and raised in financially challenged and socially backward backgrounds. These selections were not serendipitous. Police have unearthed a documented trail of evidence of internal WhatsApp groups that acted as coordination points, where “hunting lists” were reportedly maintained. They purportedly discussed the victims’ financial struggles, family issues, and emotional isolation, etc., and planned grooming strategies. Promises of career growth or adjustments linked to participating in Ramzan-related practices often served as entry points. Victims have admitted to being implored to join namaz during office hours, observe roza, consume beef, or recite the kalma, sometimes under the shadow of professional consequences or blackmail involving private photographs. One male employee claimed he was told his father’s illness was tied to his Hindu faith and could only improve through conversion. Repeated complaints to HR were allegedly ignored or downplayed, allowing the pattern to continue unchecked for years. This Machiavellian case is not to be misconstrued as a run-of-the-mill workplace issue. It raises questions about an unprecedented abuse of corporate structure for Islamist radicalisation and indoctrination. TCS has acted by suspending the accused employees, restating its long-standing zero-tolerance policy against any form of harassment or coercion, and launching an internal review led by its COO, Aarthi Subramanian. Chairman N Chandrasekaran has called the matter deeply concerning. The moot question remains on pondering if this response addresses the issue or sidelines the elephant in the room. The case also prompts fresh reflection on the often-highlighted slogan “Jai Bheem-Jai Meem,” first popularised by AIMIM leader Asaduddin Owaisi and taken up in certain political quarters. Presented as a bridge between Dalit aspirations, drawing on Dr BR Ambedkar’s legacy, and Muslim political identity, the phrase has been offered as a symbol of progressive unity and social justice. Yet the Nashik allegations bring forward some uneasy questions. The victims largely belong to the very economically and socially backward Hindu communities that the “Bheem” part of the slogan claims to uplift – young people from these sections entering corporate roles with hopes of stability and growth. This naturally leads to an honest inquiry: does the Meem-Bheem framework truly serve to empower backward classes, or does it sometimes create conditions that fragment them along new lines for electoral convenience? And importantly, what about Muslim civil society groups and everyday Indian Muslims who have have consistently distanced themselves from extremist elements? The point here is not to paint an entire community with one brush but to encourage thoughtful self-examination where it matters. Muslim organisations and leaders – bandying the flag of Dalit-Muslim unity – who have long presented themselves as guardians of constitutional principles and minority interests now have a cogent chance. By offering clear and open support to the victims – daughters from the very backward classes often invoked in Meem-Bheem talk – they can show that a common Indian identity matters more than narrow calculations. Such a step would help mend social bonds rather than weaken them. In doing so, they would move beyond any slogan towards a deeper commitment – one in which every Indian, regardless of faith, can chase their aspirations feeling secure under the national flag. That kind of shared understanding, more lasting than any rallying cry, would genuinely honour the backward classes and help weave a stronger national fabric. Additionally, the lack of public condemnation from those who champion this slogan highlights a certain selectivity when it comes to issues of marginalisation. Also, there is a cabal that has long tom-tommed itself as the shining beacon, a trailblazer and a saviour of feminism. One wonders where these usual voices championing women’s dignity and safe workplaces have been on this matter. Then there are media outlets and commentators who pretend to stand up for secular values and communal harmony but have consumed fevicol since this dastardly scandal broke out. In a country where discussions on injustice often spread quickly, the relatively subdued reaction to the plight of these young women, many from Dalit and backward backgrounds, feels noticeable. The Maharashtra government has pushed for a thorough probe, and the SIT continues its work. Yet the true measure lies in how society at large responds. At its core, any form of forced conversion or harassment strikes at the constitutional promises of religious freedom and equal dignity. Will this episode become just another internal corporate machination, or will it encourage earnest dialogue across communities? Objectivity makes it imperative that we ask whether the response would look different if the roles of faith were reversed. Genuine solidarity, after all, cannot depend on convenience or political calculation; it must stand up for the vulnerable no matter who is involved. This bone-chilling scandal that has unfolded in the bustling IT hub of Nashik sends ripples of concern across the country. It is at the forefront of a debate: Are we petrified to call a spade a spade? Is Bharat at the cusp of a nefarious Islamist machination aimed at slyly changing the demography of our democracy? Is this the time to confront the radical Jinn being unleashed upon us
Amravati: Dalit Woman Rescued After Suicide Attempt Following Alleged Rape
Police rescued a 26-year-old Dalit woman from Wazzar Dam in Amravati after an alleged suicide attempt linked to rape and promise of marriage case. A 26-year-old Dalit woman from Paratwada in Maharashtra’s Amravati district was rescued by rural police after she allegedly attempted suicide by jumping into Wazzar Dam on Monday. Police said this was reportedly her sixth or seventh suicide attempt. According to officials, the woman was in a relationship with the accused, who allegedly raped her on the promise of marriage. When he later refused to marry her, she filed a complaint at Paratwada police station, following which a rape case was registered and the accused was arrested. Accused Promised Marriage, Then Backtracked After Bail Police said that after the arrest, the accused assured the woman he would marry her. Based on her statement, he was granted bail by the court. However, once released, he allegedly withdrew from the promise again. A senior police officer, Rural LCB PI Kiran Wankhade, said, “The woman was in a relationship with the accused. After he refused to marry her, she lodged a complaint. The accused was arrested, but later assured marriage. After his bail, he backtracked, which led to her depression.” Following this, the woman reportedly slipped into severe mental distress and repeatedly attempted suicide. Police Rescue and Ongoing Investigation Rural police managed to rescue her in time before the suicide attempt at Wazzar Dam. Authorities confirmed that she is now safe and under observation. Superintendent of Police Vishal Anand clarified that the case is not connected to any other ongoing investigation in the region, including separate allegations of sexual exploitation being probed by rural police. Officials also said that counselling and further support are being provided to the woman. Courtesy : TOP Note: This news is originally published on https:/theobserverpost.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
‘Forced to Favour Upper-Caste Accused’: Karnataka Dalit Inspector Alleges Bias in Directorate of Civil Rights Enforcement
A serious controversy has emerged within the Directorate of Civil Rights Enforcement (DCRE) in Karnataka after an inspector alleged caste-based harassment by senior officials in the department responsible for handling atrocities against SC/ST communities. Inspector T. R. Srinivas has accused senior officers of targeting him and other Dalit personnel, raising concerns about functioning and accountability within the department. Allegations of Pressure and Targeting In a letter addressed to Director General of Police Umesh Kumar and shared with the media, Srinivas claimed that he was pressured to act in favour of upper-caste accused in certain cases. In a video statement, he named DCRE Superintendent of Police Karibasangouda and Deputy Superintendent of Police Maheshwaragouda, alleging harassment and misuse of authority. “They forced me to act in favour of upper-caste accused. When I did not comply, false complaints were entertained against me and I was harassed in the name of inquiry,” Srinivas said. Claims of Fake Documents and Rule Violations Srinivas further alleged that although he was not officially relieved from his post, senior officers created “fake documents” to show that he had been relieved, which he said violated an order of the Karnataka Administrative Tribunal. He added that despite serving for 20 years without any adverse remarks, he is now being targeted. “Working for Dalits and serving in the police department itself seems to have become a mistake,” he said, expressing concern over lack of protection for Dalit officers. Appeal to Government In his video, Srinivas also alleged lack of transparency in the department and claimed that decision-making is dominated by upper-caste officials. He appealed to the state government to intervene, warning that if the situation continues, responsibility would lie with top authorities, including the Chief Minister, Home Minister, and the DGP. Narendra Modi Jhalmuri Video Shared by The Observer Post Restricted on Facebook, Instagram “Pursuant to Indian Law” Srinivas had recently been transferred from the DCRE but secured a stay on the transfer from the Karnataka Administrative Tribunal. Department Denies Allegations Meanwhile, SP Karibasangouda has denied all allegations made by Srinivas. Courtesy : TOP Note: This news is originally published on https:/theobserverpost.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Dalit Bride’s Abduction Sparks Outrage in Uttar Pradesh
In Bhadohi, Uttar Pradesh, police have charged six individuals with the abduction of a Dalit woman days before her wedding. Accused include Teju Bind and family, with the case filed under relevant sections and the SC/ST Act. Investigations are ongoing, led by Circle Officer Ashok Mishra. Authorities in the Bhadohi district of Uttar Pradesh have launched a probe into the abduction of a Dalit woman just five days before her wedding. The case involves six suspects, including Teju Bind and his family members, who allegedly abducted the woman. The charges against them include kidnapping, criminal intimidation, and offenses under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act. Circle Officer Ashok Mishra is spearheading the investigation, as police work to ensure the woman’s safety. This incident highlights ongoing issues of caste-based violence in the region. Courtesy : Devdiscourse Note: This news is originally published on https:/devdiscourse.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Attempted Murder of Youth Over Wage Dispute: In Gangoh, Accused Slashes Ear with Sickle and Issues Death Threats
In the village of Kutubkhedi within the Gangoh region, a Dalit youth was attacked after demanding payment for his labor. It is alleged that a fellow villager assaulted him—using casteist slurs in the process—and attacked him with a sickle, severing his ear. The victim has filed a written complaint at the Gangoh police station, demanding that action be taken. The victim stated that he had gone to the accused to collect his wages. As soon as he asked for the money, the accused allegedly flew into a rage and began hurling derogatory casteist insults at him. Subsequently, he attacked the youth with sticks and clubs, inflicting injuries upon him. It is further alleged that during the altercation, the accused struck the youth on the head with a sharp-edged sickle. When the youth attempted to defend himself, the blow landed on his left ear, resulting in a severe laceration. Hearing the commotion, nearby villagers rushed to the scene. Upon seeing several people approaching—including Pinka, son of Yashpal (a resident of Fatehpur)—the accused fled the spot. The victim has also alleged that the accused threatened to kill him if he ever demanded his wages again. The victim has requested the police to facilitate a medical examination, register a First Information Report (FIR), and arrest the accused. Kotwali In-charge Sanjeev Kumar confirmed that they have received the written complaint. He stated that the matter is currently under investigation and that appropriate action will be taken in accordance with the law. Intazar | Gangoh (Nakur), Saharanpur Courtesy: Hindi News
Uproar in Sidhi, MP, on Ambedkar Jayanti! Allegations of Assault and Casteist Abuse Against Dalit Woman; Serious Questions Raised Over Police Conduct—What is the Case?
In the Amaliya police station area, Pankali Saket has leveled serious allegations against a police constable and others; demands for action under the SC/ST Act intensify, while questions are raised regarding the administration’s silence. Bhopal: On April 14, 2026—the occasion of Ambedkar Jayanti—a grave and disturbing incident came to light in the Sidhi district of Madhya Pradesh, raising serious questions regarding the functioning and sensitivity of the police administration. Pankali Saket, a Dalit woman and resident of the Amaliya police station area, has alleged that when she arrived outside the police station around 2:30 PM in connection with the programs and rallies organized for Ambedkar Jayanti, a police constable named Abhishek—along with three other individuals who were allegedly in plain clothes—surrounded her and began beating her mercilessly with sticks and batons. According to the victim, the attack was sudden and unprovoked, leaving her seriously injured. The woman states that she sustained deep injuries to her head, hands, legs, and back—marks of which remain clearly visible. This incident has not only sparked outrage at the local level but has also raised the question of whether the police are failing to ensure the safety of ordinary citizens, particularly women belonging to the Dalit community. Allegations of Casteist Abuse as Well In her complaint, Pankali Saket has further alleged that during the assault, she was subjected to casteist slurs—conduct that is not only socially humiliating but also constitutes a serious legal offense. If these allegations are found to be true, the case could be registered directly under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989. Inadequate Treatment Received Even at the Hospital Following the incident, the victim went to the hospital to seek medical attention; however, she has alleged that she was unable to receive proper medical care even there. Plagued by pain and injuries, the woman was compelled to purchase medication from a medical store before returning home. She stated that since the incident, she has been suffering from persistent headaches, dizziness, and vomiting—symptoms that have rendered her condition even more alarming. This alleged negligence on the part of healthcare services has also raised serious questions regarding the administrative machinery. If a critically injured woman cannot even receive basic first aid at a hospital, it exposes the utter insensitivity of the entire system. **Complaint Filed with the Superintendent of Police** Pankali Saket has submitted a written complaint regarding this entire matter to the Superintendent of Police. In her complaint letter, she not only recounted her personal ordeal but also alleged that the incident was orchestrated with the specific intent of disrupting the Ambedkar Jayanti rally. The victim further claimed that she was not the only one subjected to physical assault that day; other individuals were also beaten and are now wandering in search of medical treatment. The complaint names another individual, Saurabh Shukla, as an accused, while the identity of a second accused remains unknown. The woman has attached photographs of her injuries to her application to underscore the gravity of the case. **The Issue Heats Up on Social Media** Since surfacing on social media, this incident has rapidly become a subject of intense public debate. Sunil Asteya, a leader of the Azad Samaj Party, has raised scathing questions directed at the state government and the police administration regarding this event. Tagging Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Dr. Mohan Yadav, he questioned whether this is the manner in which the dignity of women is being safeguarded through schemes such as “Ladli Behna.” Those championing this cause claim to have conversed with the victim via video call, during which she provided a detailed account of the entire incident and appealed for justice. They have also issued a warning: if prompt action is not taken, they will travel to Sidhi to stage a protest and demand strict punitive action against the perpetrators. Speaking to *The Mooknayak*, Azad Samaj Party leader Sunil Asteya described the incident in Sidhi as both extremely grave and deeply shameful. He alleged that if the police themselves resort to physically assaulting citizens and hurling casteist slurs, how can the common people ever hope to receive justice? He stated that the injustice inflicted upon the Dalit woman is not merely a wrong committed against an individual, but an assault on the dignity of the entire society. He demanded that strict action be taken immediately against the accused police personnel under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989, and that justice be delivered to the victim. Sunil Asteya also issued a warning that if prompt action is not taken, the party will personally visit Sidhi to stage a protest and raise this issue on a larger platform. **Questions Raised Over Administration’s Silence; Demand for Impartial Inquiry** So far, no official statement regarding this entire incident has been issued by the police administration—a silence that, in itself, raises numerous questions. In a matter of such sensitivity, the administration’s silence is further fueling public mistrust. Local residents and social organizations have demanded an impartial and time-bound inquiry into this incident. They argue that if strict action is not taken against the accused police personnel, it will erode public confidence in the rule of law. **Incident on a Day Symbolizing Social Justice Sparks Concern** Ambedkar Jayanti is regarded in India as a day symbolizing equality, justice, and respect for constitutional rights. The occurrence of such an incident on such a significant day is not only unfortunate but also serves to expose the deep-seated inequalities and challenges that persist within society. Ankit Pachauri Courtesy: Hindi News
SubscriberWrites: When a Dalit Student Dies: Academia’s Broken Promise to Ambedkar
India adopted a Constitution drafted by Ambedkar, yet we systematically undermine its egalitarian promises. The tragic death of Dalit student Nithin Raj exposes the Indian education system’s systemic caste prejudice, which marginalizes Dalits and disregards Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s vision of egalitarian spaces. Despite constitutional promises, universities remain hostile, failing to affirm Dalit dignity and scholarship. The article calls for a fundamental overhaul of academia to truly achieve caste annihilation and prevent such institutional violence. Your Turn is a unique section from ThePrint featuring points of view from its subscribers. If you are a subscriber, have a point of view, please send it to us. If not, do subscribe here: The news of Nithin Raj’s death carries the familiar weight of preventable tragedy. Another Dalit student lost to an institution that was meant to liberate him through education. Another family shattered by a system that continues to reproduce the very hierarchies our Constitution explicitly forbids. Yet what strikes most painfully is not merely the personal loss, but what it reveals about our profound collective failure to translate Dr B.R. Ambedkar’s vision into institutional reality, nearly 75 years after he warned us that constitutions are not self-executing. Young Dalit students commit suicide at various educational institutions. It is not anomalous. It is systematic. From hostels to subtle contempt embedded in curriculum, they often confront rude comments from roommates, condescension from upper-caste faculties, and erasure of Dalit scholarship from syllabi. Indian education remains in a deep caste prejudice. An institution designed historically to reproduce brahmanical knowledge systems and caste hierarchies. Cosmetic alterations in the constitution have not translated into structural reality. Nithin Raj’s death reminds us that we have failed to produce those egalitarian educational spaces envisioned by Babasaheb. He did not fight for reservations as charity or patronage. Rather, he fought to dismantle caste as a principle for stratifying society. For him, education was a primary weapon against caste oppression, even though that knowledge was weaponised against the masses to perpetuate brahmanism. Hence, he clamoured that educational institutions must become spaces of equality, which would not only grant access to Dalit students but also affirm their dignity and intellectual contributions Instead, we have a system that allows access without belonging, opportunities without safety, admissions without acceptance. When they enter institutions, they are subjected to marginalisation even as they become visible. They are considered as anomalies, as beneficiaries of reservations, as reminders of institution’s generosity. They navigate hostility from peers, disdain from teachers and institutional apathy from administrations. The psychological impact is immense. Depression, anxiety and feelings of profound isolation are prevalent among Dalits at disproportionate rates. In contemporary academia, the relevance of Ambedkar is profoundly understated. His views on caste, social transformation, and education remain among the most incisive. Nonetheless, these writings, the most important for addressing these issues, are often sidelined or reduced to footnotes in academic discourse. Meanwhile, mainstream academia continues to elevate brahmanical intellectuals while keeping Dalit scholars on the margins. The structure of academic knowledge production – what gets published, who gets cited, what constitutes canonical work- remains infected with caste prejudice. For Ambedkar, brahminism was not just historical; it was prescriptive. He insisted that brahminism survives institutionally, through education system, through internalisation of hierarchy. This is precisely what is often missed: caste prejudice in academia is not a bug but a system. Universities remain a powerful mechanism reinforcing casteism. Therefore, symbolic inclusivity and diversity initiatives cannot eradicate anything that needs systemic overhauls. What exactly did Ambedkar want? He urged for annihilation of caste, not living amicably with it. He advocated for intermarriage, inter-dining so as to eliminate all those boundaries which serve as tools for maintaining the status quo among different castes. When this is applied in academia, it means not just recruiting Dalit students and professors, but questioning the notion of “merit”, which sort of knowledge is deemed essential, whose perspectives shape curriculum and whose intellectual traditions are preserved and celebrated. The death of Nithin Raj must be viewed as institutional violence and not an individual tragedy. The violence unfolds through exclusion, disrespect, ignorance and those many microaggressions accumulated daily until they form an unbearable psychological burden. It is highly invisible in a sanitised image of the institution. On his birth anniversary, what might an honour of Ambedkar’s legacy look like in academia? It would mean decentering the brahmanical knowledge system, paving the way for caste-critical scholarship across all disciplines, requiring the unlearning of caste prejudices among professors, and affirming safe spaces for Dalit students. Thus, reimagining what education truly serves to accomplish. It asks to recognise that academic rigour and caste equality are not competing values but interdependent goals. India adopted a Constitution drafted by Ambedkar, yet we systematically undermine its egalitarian promises. Educational institutions, often termed as temples of learning, are actually seats of brahminical privilege. Unless and until there is restructuring of academia in accordance with Ambedkar’s vision of caste annihilation, Dalit students will continue entering universities that remain hostile to them, that continually remind them of the insignificance of their knowledge and that their presence is only due to the consequence of tokenistic efforts rather than as a right. Nithin Raj deserved better. Many others deserve better. The inherent question lies in whether we follow the vision outlined by Ambedkar for us or continue to offer ceremonial condolences over preventable deaths. These pieces are being published as they have been received – they have not been edited/fact-checked by ThePrint. Pallavi Sanil Courtesy : The Print Note: This news is originally published on https:/theprint.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights
Book Excerpt: Documenting Lived Experiences In ‘Dalit Women And The Fullness Of Life’
Blending memoir with social inquiry, this book moves beyond dominant representations to delve into the lived experiences of Dalit women across identity, sisterhood, desire, and faith. Almost a decade after I finished college, I came out as Dalit to a colleague of mine. I didn’t need to, but it felt important then to contextualize my politics to someone I considered a friend. A part of me was also tired of hiding this aspect of my identity at work; by then, I had started writing publicly and was scared that someone would discover it. So, one Friday evening in Bengaluru, I gathered up some courage and told my colleague that I was Dalit. She looked at me quizzically for a second and blurted, ‘Oh, you don’t look like one.’ If this moment had been filmed, the camera might have aptly caught the expressions of my part-embarrassed, part- crestfallen face. ‘But what does a Dalit look like, Aditi?’ I asked. She did not know what to say. Her liberal image notwithstanding, her mind—conditioned by caste—equated Dalit to a stereotype, one that can only be recognized through certain markers, which in my case didn’t seem to apply. So she did what she thought was the right thing to do: assure me that I was not like the rest of them. Dirty, poor, uncultured. I did not feel the need to come out when I was younger. Not only did I lack the political impetus to do it, I also didn’t have to. My socio-economic markers were far less ambiguous back then. I was dark- and dry-skinned, Christian and poor. And if that was not enough, I also spoke broken English and Chennai Tamil. Years later, someone mentioned that my bulbous nose was a dead giveaway. Paara mooku. For Dalit women who grew up with visible caste markers, navigating savarna-dominated spaces can be demanding. Suspended between the pressures to come out as Dalit, the very real possibility of repercussions on account of coming out, and the gnawing suspicion that coming out is just another performative gimmick, Dalit women can be left feeling helpless. This is especially true for those who did not grow up in contexts that were openly anti-caste and/or are operating in spaces that are outwardly caste-blind but inwardly casteist. Indian institutions, for example—whether government, academic, corporate or non-profit—can be made up of populations with varying degrees of caste consciousness. Some are extremely adept at identifying caste markers and, if they hold any kind of power and harbour a caste bias, could sabotage a Dalit worker’s career prospects. Some are like my colleague Aditi—who may readily profess caste-blindness but still believe in caste-based stereotypes. Some are proficient in the language of caste politics, and may even be scholars of caste, while concealing a deep disgust for Dalits. Coming out is therefore a risk, the cushioning of which requires one or more of the following: a higher socio-economic status; anti-caste politicization; adjacency to savarna or white lineage; and an upbringing in, or migration to, a geographical context that is not caste contoured. It is far more challenging to be vocal about one’s Dalit identity if one’s life is in immediate danger; or there is not enough social and economic capital to buffer casteist onslaughts; or there is no lineage to fall back on when one’s Dalit identity is attacked; or one’s anti-caste education has not equipped them with the political ammunition required to defend themselves. Several contemporary Dalit women have, however, openly self-identified—even in the absence of protections and politicization. Yashica Dutt, the award-winning author of Coming Out as Dalit, has spoken at length—both in her book and outside of it—about the struggles with hiding and the complicated but necessary freedom she felt when she came out. To many readers, particularly those who have not had an Ambedkarite upbringing or other types of scaffolding, this was an experience we could relate to. Like my parents, I too made efforts, as an adult, to hide my caste location—not by saying I was Indian Christian, as they did, but by carefully camouflaging my caste markers. At work and at school, I adopted English accents that sounded American and British—at one point, even Australian. There was also my surname—or rather the lack of it—which helped me in some ways. Because of a clerical error, I grew up without a surname or initials. ‘Dhanuja’, one of my middle names, became a proxy for my surname at work, and ‘Dhanaraj’—my father’s name, which should have been my official surname— became a pseudonym. As I began writing on caste, I added a middle name to my pseudonym: Thomas. Christina Thomas Dhanaraj. Malayalee-ish? Maybe. Ambiguous? Absolutely. I had to quit my corporate job, marry into a Dalit family and move countries before I could fully and publicly come out as Dalit. Had I not left India, I would have continued to keep my Dalit identity hidden. Being out as Dalit now feels freeing. It is even more so when the world around me seems to accept it—albeit a carefully curated world, occupied only by those who appear to denounce caste; who listen with rapt attention to my emphatic bashing of savarna arrogance and respond with delightful candour to my self-deprecating humour. It’s sweet relief to be on this side of the bridge— where it appears that I’m celebrated not in spite of being Dalit but because of it. But I’m also convinced that Dalit women—including those who keep their caste location hidden for the sake of self- preservation—should not be under any pressure to come out. Because, one, the act of coming out in and of itself doesn’t guarantee societal acceptance. And two, there is nothing inherently Dalit about any of us that mandates a broadcast. Christina Dhanuja Courtesy : Outlook India Note: This news is originally published on https:/outlookindia.com/bha and is used purely for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially human rights