When the time was right, my dear mother decided me to get married and started looking for grooms in Maharashtra. “Which caste do you belong to?” This was a question that I had to deal with on a regular basis from members of families that were looking for an alliance for their son. I would be flabbergasted, flummoxed. For, having been born and brought up in Delhi, I had always mingled with a cosmopolitan crowd, where the question of caste and sub-castes never came up.

 

 In Jest  

 

Whenever I was introduced to my friends’ family, and after getting acquainted with me and my surname - Kavalekar- they would politely ask me which part of India my parents came from. I'd proudly tell them, as I tell everyone even now, our lineage has deep roots in Maharashtra and “I am mighty proud of belonging to a land steeped in rich culture and history, but at heart I am an Indian.” Having grown up in such a milieu where religion and caste didn't play a major part in my upbringing, the question about caste and sub-caste was a shocker. The worst that I had to deal with during these interviews was “Your father is a Saraswat Brahmin and your mother a Deshshast - which of the two has been predominant in your upbringing?” Huh?!!! I had never encountered such questions before, and it was a painful process dealing with them. I retaliated after each session, and believe me there were many such sittings - but my parents hell-bent on getting me married off to someone settled in Maharashtra, would just shrug their shoulders and walk off to fix another meeting with a prospective groom. They had their reasons, and being an obedient daughter, I could only comply, though privately I complained a lot to my soul mates - my sisters. Whenever I think of these dikhai wale sessions, I marvel at the mindset of educated people - a few who were settled abroad, but their outlook was still deeply entrenched in the caste system and the conversations somehow revolved around ‘how a girl brought up with a set of parents belonging to different sub castes would adapt herself in their home’.' When I look back, I think I had a blindfold on my eyes, or is it that when you are young, friends are simply people of your age with whom you gel and are super comfortable. Nothing else matters. But slowly, as time passes and maturity sets in, your perception of the world changes and you realise life is not all rosy.

 

The ground reality is different, sometimes bordering on harsh. Back then, I did not want to be encumbered with caste and sub-castes, I still do not like to talk about it. For me each individual is a human being, but we have divided ourselves and drawn innumerable permanent lines separating each on the basis of religion, caste, region, and look where it has got all of us today. But even as I write this, I know that these lines are indelible, etched too deeply in the social milieu, with chances of them being blurred, let alone erased, is far-fetched. Now, I know for sure, that the concept of ‘universal brotherhood’ borders on being a myth, and this is cemented when incidents that bring the social divide sharply into focus occur on a regular basis. I have met people who will not buy vegetables from the vendor sitting near the garden ‘because he belongs to a lower caste’. I have seen relatives throw away mugs after serving tea to someone who belongs to a different religion. I have seen acquaintances cancel their Uber ride because the driver belonged to a faith different than the ones that they practise. In such a fractured world, I am constantly at loggerheads with people who do not look at other people with respect. Love toh bahut dur ki baat hai. My relatives are aghast when they see the worker who sweeps the residential premises enter your house for a cup of tea. “How can you allow her to enter and sit on the floor sipping tea?”

 

“Why not?” is my counter question. “Isn't she a human being like you and me? If it wasn't for her who would be keeping the premises clean?” I have argued with friends over the way they treated a waiter serving us at a restaurant. The arguments continue, a solution doesn't seem to be in sight. We are three sisters and our rakhi brothers are Muslims, one of my rakhi brothers is a Sikh, I am good friends with men and women who follow a different faith. And I have never looked down upon anyone on the basis of their caste, creed, gender, race or religion. But probably I am one of the rare tolerant species in today's splintered society. When I contemplate, I realise that I often forget I live in a city where these differences are present, but not in such a huge scale as we get to see in small towns and villages. We, citydwellers, might cry hoarse about equality and ‘do away with disparity and casteism’ but in hinterlands, the situation is entirely different. And scary.

 

The first question that pops up in any conversation that the villagers find themselves drawn into is - “Tumhari jaat kaun si?” The social divide based on caste, carried down from generations, is ingrained deeply in their psyche, and it is difficult for the answer seekers to let it go. How profoundly this subject affects the functioning, at all levels, of a small village is very effectively brought forth by Neeraj Pandey in his recently released Khakee: The Bihar Chapter. Based on Amit Lodha's book titled Bihar Diaries..., this social drama, spanning seven episodes, puts the spotlight, amongst other things (good cop - bad cop, corrupt politicians, rot in governance), on caste that plays such a powerful role in the lives of the villagers that shooting anyone who dares to cross the path of those at loggerheads is a child’s play. And it is this that got me thinking about the discrimination that is so rampant and a part of our everyday lives. Of course, we all know about vote bank politics and how despite intellectuals debating about the merits and demerits of caste and quota, there will never be a consensus on this issue. In a society riddled with strife, true independence will only come when we get rid of all that bogs us down. As for me, I like a religion that embraces humanity, to quote the great Dr B R Ambedkar ‘that teaches liberty, equality and fraternity.’