Inder Meghwal, a nine-year-old boy, died recently in a village in the Jalore district of Rajasthan. The family say he succumbed to injuries caused by an assault by a teacher in his school who was angry that the young boy drank from a water pot meant for ‘upper castes’. The accused, Chail Singh, who is in custody, says he did slap the boy — not because of the reason stated, but because Inder had quarrelled with another student. Inder’s family members assert that the boy was beaten brutally due to his caste.
An unusual place
Many testimonies and individual claims have been made that neither the school nor the Rajput teacher holds any bias against the Meghwals, a community considered “untouchable” in Rajasthan. Some reports state that Inder had been suffering from a ear infection and probably died of septicemia, or sepsis (the clinical name for blood poisoning by bacteria), rather than brain hemorrhage caused by the teacher’s slap. Doctors have considered the possibility that the infection could have been aggravated by the assault. Reports also say there is no upper caste pot in the premises of the school; all the students and teachers, some of whom are from ‘lower castes’, drink water from one source — a cement tank. This is the most unlikely source of drinking water in the hot summer of Rajasthan. Generally, people drink from a clay pot (matki). Nevertheless, Inder’s village (and school) must be an unusual place in Rajasthan as it doesn’t have caste practices.
I went to a school similar to the one Inder attended. It was a poorly maintained building. There were no benches or chairs; students sat on the floor. Everyday life at home, in school and in the village was governed by caste norms. Untouchability was, and still is, practised in the villages of Rajasthan. People from upper castes think of it as normal and desirable because they believe it is the right way to practise the Hindu religion. People of lower castes such as the Meghwals consider it a part and parcel of their lives. They remain forbidden from the main temple of the village; they are not invited to weddings and festivals of the upper castes; and they don’t mingle with upper castes. Occasionally, when the whole village assembles on Holi or Diwali or during elections, they sit separately, not on the same carpets. Usually, they sit next to the spot where upper caste men take off their slippers.
That is how I saw the world as a child in one such village between Jodhpur and Jalore. The school I attended had many Meghwal boys and I befriended some of them. Students used to do all sorts of chores — they used to clean the floors every morning and bring drinking water in pots from the main water tank of the village. There were separate water pots for the upper and lower castes all through the decade I was in the school. We knew the caste norms and followed them. Meghwal boys were exempted from one task, which was to make chai for the teachers. Most teachers were from the upper castes and drank chai twice a day. The job of making chai was that of boys from the upper castes and Other Backward Classes.
Though I was best friends with some of the Meghwal boys, I could not invite any of them home or even tell my family that I went to their homes. I still have the vivid memory of my first visit to a friend’s home. Everyone was astonished that I accepted their offer to drink water and tea. I once tried to bring a friend home, got caught, and was told strictly not to do that again.
Political considerations
Inder’s village, Surana, seems unique without the rotten practice of caste. I see villagers and some local politicians on TV and YouTube videos claiming that there aren’t any incidents of caste discrimination around them. I am perplexed. Not long ago, I read a report in The Print that “weddings for Dalits in Rajasthan are no less than tragic suspense thrillers”, for the family of the groom doesn’t know if they will reach the bride’s house without getting beaten up by people of dominant castes. Discriminatory caste practices are often not acknowledged or addressed because of political considerations and vote-bank politics. Leaders have their narrow political interests in mind rather than social transformation for a better and just society for all. The police are few in number, prejudiced against the lower castes, and often not given the freedom to present all the facts.
Now there is doubt over the cause of Inder’s death. Was it the infection, aggravated by the slap, that took his life? Was it unruly behaviour rather than untouchability? Who will get the benefit of doubt is also a critical point of this sad case. Lastly, I am deeply saddened that teachers still beat students. This is a great agony for me, a teacher, to bear.
Khinvraj Jangid is Associate Professor and Director, Jindal Centre for Israel Studies, Jindal School of International Affairs, O.P. Jindal Global University and currently adjunct faculty at Ben-Gurion University, Israel
