Caste Brings Down Human Beings A Few Notches

S P Singh

Talhan:

In the virtually divisive atmosphere of Talhan, mark the unanimity between the incumbent Jat sarpanch and the former Dalit sarpanch. When asked what has changed since this Jalandhar village was hit by caste-violence, both had the same response – “It is just that we sleep during the day, and keep awake at night.”

Caste consciousness isn’t new to Punjab villages, least of all to Talhan.

Almost every single village in Punjab has two different gurdwaras, one for the higher castes and the other for the lower ones. That Sikhism necessarily shuns caste construct is a concept widely ignored. And for good measure, even cremation grounds are caste-specific.

After the village festered with violence in the minds for five months, and violence on the roads for five days now, both castes eye each other with suspicion. No one is safe, no one certainly feels so. “You just have to lift the curfew for blood to be spilled,” said Sunil, an MBA and a Dalit, the latter qualification better known to fellow villagers.

Many Jats concede similar thoughts.  But it is the violence in the minds that will live for a long long time to come. Sham Lal's polio-afflicted niece will take years to forget the shock.

Armed men barged into her house last week during the sectarian riot, and tried to pull out her earrings.

“They smashed the phone, TV, VCR, anything they could lay their hands on,” her family said. Jats were attacking something that had really pissed them off – the trappings of an upwardly mobile lifestyle. A couple of decades back, no Dalit family had a phone, TV was rare, and VCR a dream. Now these were commonplace possessions among lower castes, with family members of most working off shores though in menial jobs. 

The two castes clashed over control of a village shrine which rakes in offerings worth Rs 4-5 crore annually, a community resource totally controlled by the land-owning Jats. Violent caste divide coagulated the Dalits and Jats both.

Dalit leader Chanan Ram had backed Jat Manjit Singh Boota for sarpanch's election last time, while fellow Dalit leader Sadhu Ram had backed another Jat Mohinder Singh, who's now the Sarpanch. Now, Chanan and Sadhu spend most evenings together, if curfew allows, plotting against the Jats. 

“Village has seen new equations. But the worst part is that Dalits and Jats have stopped saying Sat Sri Akal  to each other for the first time in decades,” said a Jat leader.

Proverbial silver linings remain. Except for a couple of exceptions, neither side has complained of their women being abused. Rajvinder Kaur, a daughter-in-law of a Jat family, walks through the Dalit colony to her fields to milk the cows, and then walks back to her house, without facing any harassment. 

But what happens on her way underlines the change. Earlier, she used to stop in front of so many doorsteps, chatting with girls, touching an old man’s feet or scolding a street urchin. Now, she keeps her head down, and no one calls out to her.

On December 31, Chanan Ram had retired from the state electricity board. On the New Year's eve, under a big banyan tree, he held a party. Among the guests were Kewal Singh Bhangoo, the present president of the controversial shrine, and Bhupinder Singh Bhinda, another powerful Jat leader, and the village square echoed with their boisterous laughter. 

“Those times will never return again, not in my lifetime,” says Chanan.

“And we don't regret it,” chorus Bhangoo and Bhinda. Talhan has slipped into an envelope of hatred, but real scare comes when a 6-year-old tells you he and his friends just want to slay the other 6-year-old from another caste. One hopes they have a poor memory! 

June 10, 2003

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