Other Experiences In Kumaon - 1

OTHER EXPERIENCES IN KUMAON

Brahmins (not to exempt other upper castes) are generally not even slightly aware of the insidiousness of the caste-system. They have never been at the receiving end to realize the impact of what it could mean to a person lower down in the order. Except of course, the dark-complexioned Brahmin who may get to hear some taunts accidentally, and who generally gets reassured soon enough when the other person apologizes profusely. I too would have been smug about the whole thing, but even as I recount my experience in Kumaon, I am distinctly aware that it is just not the genuine feeling.

Back in 1976 in Kumaon, I had sported a thick beard. I would also do things that were supposed to be unforgivable if one were a ‘genuine Brahmin’. During my traverses there, I used to notice a few hutments quite separated from the main village. When I was busy near these hutments either breaking off a chip of a rock, or taking a Brunton Compass reading, someone would invite me in for a cup of tea. I used to strike up a conversation and gradually would make my way into the hut and carry on an animated interaction with the folks of the hut. My field guide (vaguely remember his name as Kedar Dutt) would be near some apple trees that were quite widespread in the vicinities. When the tea was served, I would lap it up with great relish, but surprisingly my field guide, though quite fatigued, would never partake of these cups of tea.

For the first few days I was quite unconscious of all these intricacies, having been brought up in largely urban environs like Bangalore and Delhi, but I began to notice that the folks in the tea-shop in Okhalkhanda and my field guide became interested in my caste. I used to unconsciously reply ‘Brahmin’ when queried about my caste, but I found people rejecting my claim more and more vehemently. It took me quite a while to realize that it was all due to the largely unconscious way I would accept to drink tea during field traverses.

Hence it so happened that when I shifted camp from Babiyar to a village called Kala Agar (? Memory fading) I had the usual problem of accommodation. I tried everywhere in the village for a suitable accommodation, but was totally unsuccessful. Finally I again approached a schoolteacher who seemed to have a fairly large house. He said that he could spare me some accommodation only in the cattle-shed. The cattle-shed was quite spacious, but was spread all over uniformly with hay. Since there were no other government buildings or schools that were free, I ventured to put up in the barn. The teacher’s family also agreed to feed me at the barn for a modest fee.

But the first night was a torment. The hay was infested with fleas. I am particularly sensitive to flea-bites. And throughout the night I was severely bitten by fleas and could not sleep a wink. In the following days I desperately tried for an alternative accommodation and failed totally in getting one. As the days passed I gradually started developing a high fever due to a reaction to the flea-bites. I particularly remember one night, feverish as I was, I lit up the candle and started pouring hot molten wax of the candle on every flea I could spot. The bed-sheet was splotched with wax, and often when a flea landed on my arm or leg, I poured the hot molten wax on my skin.

The only reason I was ostracized to a barn is because I used to enter scheduled caste villages and drink cups of tea in their houses. Now imagine how a scheduled caste victim should feel. Or for that matter, think of how difficult it is for a man of another religion to get a house on rent in a largely Hindu locality in Bangalore.