Rohith And Other Dalits: Carl Sagan To Sewage Cleaning
Saeed Naqvi
Rohith Vemula, a Ph.D.
student, focused on the interstellar spaces and Carl Sagan. In a different
location, a sewage cleaner looks for live cockroaches in the sewer, which
ironically give him a sense of security: he can now clean the sewer without
fearing death from foul gases. One day he miscalculated. He died. One is a real
life character, the other from a masterpiece film, Court. But they are two
sides of the same reality.
Rohith had a life of the mind,
and he wrote sensitive prose, reminding us of the reflective student in our
university days, exactly the one we chose to share our secrets with.
At this point, the Dalit in
him becomes irrelevant. He could well have been one of us. That is why his
suicide touches us more than the self immolation of a teen aged girl in
Telangana: her parents did not have the money to build a toilet. She was ashamed.
Reams and reams have been
written on Rohith’s predicament and there is yet no end to the things in the
heart. One reason for the endless outpouring maybe our incapacity to access an
educated, 28 year old Dalit’s mind. We are groping.
Sisyphus, the giant, has been asked
to push a boulder up the mountain. From the peak, the boulder comes rolling
down and Sisyphus has to resume his labour – push the boulder up again.
In the 60s, every University
coffee house existentialist contemplated Sisyphus, as the ultimate metaphor for
life’s futility. It was a fad. But for a Dalit tailor’s son, life’s
meaninglessness must seem very real because now an educated mind has been
placed on his shoulders. This, as the establishment’s walls grow higher each
day even as universities churn out more and more Dalits, some quite as exceptional
as Rohith. The Rohiths of this world have no network, no ties of school or
blood to enable them clamber onto a higher rung. The sewage cleaner has no aim
other than a mechanical desire to keep sewers clean. Rohith has been cursed
with aspiration. They represent two tragedies.
Visit a five star hotel and statuesque
men and women, impeccably clad, populate the main lobbies, arrival desks,
restaurants. In sharp contrast are the keepers of the toilets: these are
smaller men and women of weaker bone structure, more frugally dressed. These
are Dalits, (I believe Valmikis are preferred) hired on contract from private
agencies. The picture is similar in shopping malls, hospitals, airports,
restaurants.
Placing Dalits on the rolls of
these establishments would be risky: men and women employed to clean toilets
and keep the establishments tidy would begin to look for upward mobility
outside areas of sanitation. This would upset the unstated caste balance in the
job market.
Caste hierarchies are thus
regularized in collusion with the state. How would the state expect hundreds of
thousands of Rohiths to cope with this confusing reality.
Some years ago, there was a
minor agitation in the All India Institute of Medical Sciences against three
upper caste candidates (two Brahmins) who inveigled themselves into the
sanitation department. Marxist leaders intervened to call off the agitation.
They thought the trend should be encouraged. Brahmins joining as sanitation
labour was a revolutionary social advance.
The reality was different. The
upper caste men never touched the broom or actually worked as sanitation
labour. Soon enough, they were promoted as supervisors and accommodated in
departments far removed from sanitation. Entry as sanitation labour was a ruse.
The Prime Minister’s Swachh
Bharat Abhiyan may be trapped in a paradox. Dalits can’t be made supervisory officers;
officers will not pick up the broom.
A look at some of New Delhi’s
garbage dumps revealed a startling new reality. The new safai mazdoors at these
dumps are not the traditional sanitary workers; many of them are Muslims.
Sachar Committee report on the socio economic condition of Indian Muslims may
be in urgent need of revision. All of this is not unrelated to the condition of
a sensitive Dalit like Rohith.
Nothing in recent years has
encapsulated the Dalit predicament better than Court, the film I mentioned at
the outset.
Narayan Kamble, a folk poet
extremely popular among Dalits, is arrested on a ridiculous charge – that his
poetry may have been responsible for the suicide of a sewage cleaner, who died
by drowning in the sewage.
The police has been used by
the system to silence a poet whose hold on the Dalits may be exploited by the
political opposition. The voluntary act of suicide denies the sewage cleaner any
sympathy for dying in his line of duty. His death is a political act.
The prosecution lawyer argues
against the poet being given bail. The Sessions Judge obliges. There is
absolutely no connect between those administering justice and those in need of
it. In the latter category is Rohith too.
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