excerpt from Joothan

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One day I met Professor Kamble at the Kulkarni's place. Kulkarni and Kamble were in deep conversation about Marathi plays. Patil and I were listening to them quietly. Mrs. Kulkarni came in with the tea. While drinking my tea, I noticed Kamble's cup. It was different from the cups offered to the rest of us. I asked Sudama Patil, who nudged me to be quiet. On our way back I asked him again. At first he tried to be evasive but finally he said, "Maharashtrian Brahmins, especially those from Poona, don't allow Mahars to touch their dishes. [Mahar is an untouchable caste in Maharashtra to which Ambedkar belonged.] That's why their dishes are kept separate. Mrs. Kulkarni had come to take the used cups of everybody else, but Kulkarni had taken Kamble's cup inside."

As I listening to him, my ears started to boil as though someone had poured mercury into them. "Do they treat all Dalits like that?" I wanted to know.

My village was divided along lines of touchability and untouchability. The situation was bad in Dehra Dun and in Uttar Pradesh in general at this time. When I saw well-educated people in a metropolitan city like Bombay indulging in such behavior, I felt a fountain of hot lava erupting in me. "Yes, that is how they behave with all Dalits," Patil replied frankly. He respected Babasaheb Ambedkar and supported Dalit protest movements. Although he was an upper-caste person, he was not narrow-minded. A storm was rising inside me. The incident had unsettled me deeply. I asked Patil, "Do they know about me?"

"Perhaps not...perhaps they think Valmiki is a Brahmin surname. [This is a reference to the poet Valmiki of the third century B.C. Although Valmiki was lower caste, some Brahmins use that name because of the sacred nature of the epic.] Maybe that's why they invited you for the Diwali bath." Patil was becoming somewhat serious.

"You never told them?" I asked heatedly.

"Why should I have? Is it a crime to be a Dalit?" Patil retorted angrily.

"What if they find out tomorrow?" I objected.

"So? How are you to blame? If they didn't ask you, why should you get a drummer to announce your caste? Yes, if they had inquired and you had lied in order to be admitted to their circle, then you would be worthy of blame," Patil replied firmly.

I couldn't get back to normal after this incident. My restlessness tormented me. I find it difficult to survive in such stifling environments, where everything seems false. I did not hide my inner torment from Patil, who tried to talk me out of it. "The entire value system of the Brahmins is based on lies and deception. Forget baout it and have fun," he would say.

I did not crave for love and respect gained on the basis of a lie. I remained mired in turmoil. Lost in my inner battle, I did not visit the Kulkarnis for several days. Savita [Kulkarni, who had shown in interest in him] came to the hostel after waiting in vain for my visit. I wanted to talk to Savita frankly. But it wasn't possible within the four walls of the hostel. I said to Savita, "I need to talk to you--alone."

"Alone?... Why?" she had replied with mischievously, her eyes dancing.

"Hmmm."

"Let us go to the temple tomorrow."

"But won't your mother be there with you?" I objected.

"No, I will come alone," she assured me.

After Savita left, I told Patil that I was going to tell Savita everything. Patil tried to stop me; he said, "No, don't do that. It will cause a storm."

But I had come to a decision. Things should be cleared up. I would face whatever happened.

Savita met me near the Upkar restaurant at the Ambernath train station. She wore a white skirt-and-blouse outfit that greatly suited her milky-fair complexion. Her eyes were sparkling and her walk had a spring in it. She talked nonstop as usual. I was replying briefly with ohs and yeses. I did not know hot to tell her, where to begin.

Suddenly, Savita reacted as though she had remembered something. "Oh, I had almost forgotten, weren't you going to tell me something?" Her eyes grew large as she glazed at me steadily. For a moment I felt I wouldn't be able to do it.

Gathering my courage, I said, "That day when Professor Kamble came to your place..."

Before I could finish Savita interrupted with, "That Mahar... SC?" [SC is the abbreviation for Scheduled Caste, and the acronym is often used in private upper-caste speech.]

The way she said it made me flush with anger, "Yes, the same," I replied bitterly.

Surprised, Savita asked, "Why are you thinking of this today?"

My voice hardened, "You had served him tea in a different cup?"

"Yes, the SCs and the Muslims who come to our house, we keep their dishes separate," Savita replied evenly.

"Do you think this discrimination is right?" I asked. She felt the sharp edge in my voice now.

"Oh... why, are you mad? How can we feed them in the same dishes?"

"Why not? In the hostel...in the mess, everyone eats together. Then what is wrong in eating together in your home as well?" I tried to reason with her.

Savita defended the discrimination as right and justified by tradition. Her arguments were infuriating me. However, I remained calm. According to her, SCs were uncultured. Dirty.

I asked, "How many SCs do you know? What is your personal experience in this regard?"

She felt silent. Her effervescence subsided. We sat on the ledge for a while. Then I asked her, "What do you think of me?"

"Aai and Baba praise you. They say you are very different from their preconceptions about Uttar Pradesh people," Savita cooed.

"I asked for your opinion."

"I like you." She leaned on my arm.

I pushed her away and asked, "OK--would you like me even if I were an SC?"

"How can you be an SC?" she laughed.

"Why not? What if I am?" I had insisted.

"You are a Brahmin," she said with conviction.

"Who told you that?"

"My father."

"He is wrong. I am an SC." I put all my energy into those words. I felt that a fire had started inside me.

"Why do you say such things?" she said angrily.

"I am telling you the truth. I won't lie to you. I never claimed that I am a Brahmin."

She stared at me, totally shocked. She still thought that I was joking with her.

I said as plainly as I could that I was born in a Chuhra family in Uttar Pradesh.

Savita appeared grave. Her eyes were filled with tears and she said tearfully, "You are lying, right?"

"No Savi, It is the truth. You ought to know this." I had managed to convince her.

She started to cry, as though my being an SC was a crime. She sobbed for a long time. Suddenly, the distance between us had increased. The hatred of thousands of years had entered our hearts, What a lie culture and civilization are.--Omprakash Valmiki, excerpt from Joothan: An Untouchable's Life

Being rejected by a girl who's affection he hadn't seeked in the first place is the least of Valmiki concerns as far as caste discrimination is involved, but somehow this particular episode hit a chord with me.


ETA: Bloody hell, I should have used OCR software instead of typing this up.