I like the holidays.
I do not like the holidays.
I am not sure about you but I am a sum total of contradictions.
Week-long half-term school holidays have begun.
I like half-term holidays after every 6 weeks of school for the break it gives from waking up at 5.30 am (I aim to wake-up at this time), leisurely breakfast with no rush and no school runs which are not actually running but walking to school for drop and pick-up. I sincerely enjoy visiting the parks, roaming around the city on foot with Dhruv and clicking photos during this school break. I love that Dhruv and I can have our read-aloud time together.
Now you might say it is all good with our holidays so what is there that is not to be liked.
I dislike the holidays for what it does to my mind by making the thought-binding agent ineffective. The husband taking off time from the office to stay at home during this half-term break is making me anxious already for we are opposites in many cases. If I am for routine and discipline, he is for total disruption. There can be a whole separate post on the case of opposites that we are which will be for some other day.
Today is for random scribbling of disjointed passing thoughts totally unrelated to each other. Let me see how many I manage to write down.
Oh gosh! Now it goes blank. Before I sat down with the laptop, they were bombarding my head out and now that I sit down to give them exposure, embarrassed they have made the vanishing act hiding in the closets. Okay, let me move away and have some ice cream.
After the ice cream and looking out of the window act, here I go –
Reading Dr. Roshan’s blog post on the caste discrimination and abuse causing a doctor to commit suicide, I felt disheartened. Discrimination on the basis of caste and hierarchy in a particular caste has been the reality since ages. Education is supposed to blur out the caste differences in society but is it the case? Clearly no.
My personal story –
It was the time when I was doing my post graduation studies. My parents’ message was they could permit love marriage provided the boy was from the same caste as ours. The caste was as important as educating their daughter. To their luck, they got spared as I gave the go-ahead for arrange marriage in which caste is again an important parameter. After marriage, the same caste became a case of subtle bullying in the name of the caste hierarchy where people from the in-laws’ family consistently made it known that they came from a higher sub-caste than I. It strengthened their connections with the lead actors of their favourite TV serials if they were from the same caste (and sub-caste) as theirs. Irrelevant! Illogical! Helpful!
Over the years, the caste mattered less and lesser to me thanks to all the above people in my life and their outlooks. What is the point of being educated was my question? It is easier for me for not being conscious of my caste because my surname speaks for it without my realisation and I am not subjected to discrimination based on it. However, I am sure this wouldn’t have been the case if I came from a scheduled caste or a scheduled tribe. My limited experience with people tells me though each one looks out for the caste in the surname yet the one who is vocal enough to point it out in the very first interaction is the one with the most narrow mind.
Thus, that was just one intense thought.
What are your thoughts about casteism?
Linking this post with #MondayMusings hosted by Corinne Rodrigues