One of the purchases that I made at the Strand Book Sale was Dr. Narendra Jadhav's book The Untouchable.
From the author's note, the book grabs your attention and keeps it rivetted.

"Every sixth human being in the world today is an Indian, and every sixth Indian is an erstwhile untouchable, a Dalit"

The book is an incredible read. In the main it is a romance – the love story between Dr.Jadhav's father – Damu – and his mother – Sonu. Caste forms the backdrop of this incredible partnership. The affection, love and mutual respect that Damu and Sonu have for each other comes through in every page. Sonu's voice and perspective and her vision of happiness completemented by Damu's vision of a society where he and his children are treated just the same as anyone else. Not much to ask for, but a lot even in today's day and age.

The story begins with Damu running away from his village to Mumbai to escape caste oppression. He does the unthinkable. Stands up for his rights as a human being. And that in a caste ridden village society is a definite no no, and he gets whipped for his troubles. In the middle of the night – he and his wife take off for Mumbai.

The book is divided into alternate Damu and Sonu chapters. So we see the unfolding of this incredible story from both points of view. Different perspectives of the same event. Parallel events in each others lives that build the narrative. Sonu's incredible story of how she as a new wife learns to 'love' her husband. Damu's own feelings of tenderness and affection towards his wife contrasted with his sense of outrage at an unfair system. And this outrage is directed as much towards the upper castes that seek to dominate and oppress Damu and his family, as it is directed towards his own community for accepting the discrimination.

Damu describes the aftermath of the Mahad water agitation – where Ambedkar had led a satyagraha to ensure that Dalits were allowed equal rights to portable water. He says (pg 24):

We returned to Mumbai only to learn that the orthodox high-born of Mahad had the Brahmin priests 'purify' the 'desecrated' water reservoir by pouring into it 108 pots of curd, milk, cow-dung and cow urine amidst loud religious chants?
Didn't these educated people realise that the notion of purification with animal urine was more ridiculous and despicable than the idea of defilement by human touch?

Obviously not. In conservative Tam Bram families even today – it is recommended that a woman who has delivered a baby has the panchamrut that is made up of milk, ghee, cow's urine, a bit of dung and something else equally yuk. It is no wonder that most of my female cousins remain unmarried and unhindered by kids!

Advice that Sonu is given on making her husband happy:

"Accept your husband. Taht is the reason why we have been given our long flowing padar for the sari. It is big enough to accomodate all the shortcomings of our men, and long enough to cover them with the shade of our understanding"

Caste oppression and discrimination are part and parcel of the book. But nowhere does the author let go of the narrative and stand on a soapbox. And, that is possibly the reason why the book makes more of an impact than anything else that I have read on caste. It is chilling in its normalcy. You care so much about Damu and Sonu that anyone who wants to harm them is the villian.

Unfortunately, I cannot find an on-line reference for the book. But, buy the book. gift the book. It is a must read for our generation. Especially because many of us believe that caste does not matter any more.

And for all of us who think that caste is history, think again. This morning while reading the newspaper this article. A Dalit woman (therefore doubly discriminated) sarpanch was not allowed to raise the flag on independence day:

In a letter to the Bundelkhand police superintendent, Anita Bai Ahirwar has alleged that government officials did not permit her to hoist the national flag on August 15 because she belongs to the Dalit community.

“I was told by the officials that chamar-chamariya (Dalits) cannot hoist the national flag at the centre of a market place,” Anita Bai wrote, giving an account of how she was prevented from raising the flag in a chowk that fell under the jurisdiction of her panchayat.

Words fail me on this one. They truly do.