From the UOH battlefield

This one is from the archives too. I had written it sometime in March 2016, if I remember correctly, during the Justice for Rohith movement. I did not have the heart to publish it then because I thought it sounded defeatist. Here goes...

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Around two days before Rohith Vemula had committed suicide (January 17, 2016), the students protesting against the expulsion of Rohith and four other Dalit PhD scholars by the University of Hyderabad administration had painted a very poignant poster.

The poster showed a portly male bare chested body, but had a cow's head. An upavita/janeu or a 'sacred thread' was slung around the shoulder. Beside the image, written in bold were the words, 'Occupy UOH admin'. The image was a metaphor for the Brahminical and Hindutva driven administration.

Just a few days ago (March 2016), in the embattled shopcom area, the epicenter of the students' movement for justice, I observed the poster still lying. Two months had passed, and it was tearing away at the edges and the paper was crumpling up. The hoarding on to which the poster had been stuck was revealing.

The words 'Condolence meeting' were peeping out. I assumed that the condolence meeting was in memory of Rohith himself. But then, it struck me. Rohith hadn't died when the poster was made. I took a closer look. The dates of birth and death of the person being remembered were also visible. The person had passed away in 2013.

I peeled away the poster a little more to see if I could find the name. Now, the hoarding read 'Madari Venkatesh Condolence Meeting'. I had heard Madari's name before. He was another UOH Dalit scholar who had committed suicide.

A shiver ran down my spine, as I thought, “In 2019, what will remain of the demand for justice to Rohith? Just a hoarding?” An unpleasant reminder of the failure, not just of the administration, but the students' too.

In a bid to find some comfort, I told myself that Rohith's cause had received widespread attention. I do not remember reading about Madari's suicide in the newspapers. Perhaps, this was the boiling point. “Frustration over the suicides of Dalit scholars had built up, bursting after Rohith's death. It is now emerging as a cause for elimination of discrimination in universities and we will see it through,” I told myself.

I drew a parallel to the outburst after Nirbhaya's death. Nirbhaya's brutal rape and subsequent death shook up the nation, but it felt like the anger had been building up for a while. She then became an icon for the movement demanding a safer society for women. The law was forced to act, and change was brought about, a step in the right direction. Rohith would become an icon for the movement to eliminate discrimination of people from marginalised and minority communities, I told myself. We will see it through.

Madari Venkatesh

Back in my room, I searched the internet about Madari Venkatesh. The first link that came up was “University of Hyderabad drove PhD scholar to suicide: Report”. The report talked about 'systemic failure', 'institutional murder' and 'discrimination'. I had become familiar with these terms over the past two months. Reports and fact-finding teams had drawn up the same conclusions after Rohith's death.

I came across a poster that cited the demands of the students. Removal of the vice-chancellor and punishing the guilty. Students had organised indefinite hunger strikes, protested for days and blocked the administration from functioning. Again a sense of deja vu crept over me.

The findings, protests and hunger strikes were in vain. The vice chancellor hadn't been sacked, none of the guilty were punished or charged. Madari was forgotten and 'normalcy' had returned.


Another shiver ran down my spine.