Anecdotes To, Romancing (with/the) Caste

In love with one whose ancestors violated ours.

In bed with one who has been told repeatedly not to touch our kind

In waters of intimacy caste comes crumbing down.

Globalisation and capitalism have found a way to get under our skin, shaping every day and worldview for us. Through dating apps, they have now managed to penetrate into our intimate lives as well. Within minutes, it is possible to find a new person within a particular geographical distance or across continents to one’s liking. Human beings are no longer culturally and socially wired but also “objects” of instant gratification sought on virtual mediums. It is interesting to note that dating apps haven’t addressed people’s insecurities but only deepened them. Marketing the desire of one cyborg towards the other (s), how does then caste feature into realm of technologically altered emotions and reality?

I will give it to social media and heightened exposure to internet in 2018, for bringing a sense world over that a complicated, twisted and irrational system- caste exists. Even if people struggle to fathom exactly how it works or don’t “believe” or “practice”, cannot ignore such a system that subjugates some people over the others. Only if I got a quid for every time I was told by both Indian and NonIndian friends that I don’t look “Dalit.”

To articulate narratives around caste, politics of intimacy and love in a country like India, where intimacy is hard to find but romantic relationships are even harder to keep. There are few avenues available for people to meet, mingle or have sex without losing anonymity and respect. Romantic alliances are most often than not, viewed as ephemeral. One could still date or be romantically involved with another person until a perfect groom or bride is arranged for them to be married off. Perfect in the sense of finding a match within same caste and class so the “purity” and property can be maintained in the family. Thus, any sort of intimate or dating experiences in India are infused with casteist, patriarchal and heternormative ideas of who one can or cannot one love.

Every single date that I have been on, whether in India or elsewhere have had me cautiously waiting, dreading for the person sitting in front to ask, “What’s your caste?” May be not that upfront, may be subtly- people want to know which caste they are out with. I have felt immense pressure to respond, even if there wasn’t any, it made me uncomfortable and unprepared. This is how caste operates, on mental and physiological level; spurring self- doubts and consciousness for stakes are immense for the marginalised.

While dating, apart from common anxieties and self-doubt that everyone goes through, people from marginalised backgrounds have additional ones to worry about. How will the love interest react upon knowing my caste? Will they look at me differently? Will they make a genuine effort to understand me? Will they give relationship a chance? How will their social circle respond to us? Will we progress to second date or beyond.

I was in a committed, long distance relationship with an upper-caste man for five years. The relationship blossomed organically, until one day I had to break the news to him. This was way back in 2006, I said to him, “before we commit I want to share something that’s important for me and I’d like you to know.” He had asked nervously, “sure, what is it?” “Hmm, arrgh, I don’t know how to say but I belong to “low caste”, what you call us, “untouchables”. I distinctly remember after a pause of few seconds he said “so?” and laughed. I grew anxious. In slight irritation I told him “you don’t understand what that mean, do you?” He told me “jyot you are studying to be a social worker, when you graduate hopefully you will work to better people’s lives. I don’t expect you to deliberate on such things.” he was 19 years old and I was a year younger. He insisted that his family was liberal, didn’t believe in caste and this would certainly not bother them. I disagreed but I let it be, I believed him. Months went by, when one day his family discovered about his girlfriend- me. Their first question to his surprise was which caste I belonged to? They wanted to see how I looked so my boyfriend then showed them a photograph. He never told me exactly what they said but I could tell they were not happy. I didn’t fit into their ideals of beauty- dark skinned, I was not pretty enough for him, he was told. Since then, his family had serious objections about us being together, number of times his family would encircle and counsel him to get rid of me. He wouldn’t give in so I was accused of practicing “black magic” on him. There was no reason for their son to defy them otherwise. It was hard enough to be in a long distance as we were young; these experiences did scar us for life. It was his first experience to go through an emotional turmoil with his family over someone he loved. For me to have first-hand account of feeling discriminated and violated because I was born as a low caste. Years later we broke up but the bitterness and humiliation has lingered on. Personally, sense of identity, social baggage and politics are as important to me as moments of pleasure. You then decide to never get romantically involved with an upper-caste Hindu. Exceptions exist but they don’t work for me because it is hard to cut off umbilical cord of caste attached to Brahminical patriarchy.

Engagements around caste for me are also intimate- as they are part of my identity that I don’t always want to make readily available for people to fetishise on. Sometimes I take an escapist route and hide- it’s emotionally draining to talk about caste especially during early days of dating because you too are looking for a good time. I don’t always want to bring up discussions on privilege, oppression because like most of us, I also don’t want the opportunity of having sex slip by. I assume talking about such issues that matter the most will make it challenging for me to have sex knowing that a person might be casteist, racist or homophobe. It’s somehow easier to have sex when you don’t know person’s ideology and politics that in most cases won’t align with yours. Many times, I don’t want to be the only one providing emotional labour to explain people what caste discrimination and oppression means- how it is manifested and continue to thrive globally.

A privilege certainly enjoyed by upper-castes to never talk about their lives and intimate experiences unless they desire. The burden of emotional labour is enforced over and over upon marginalised groups, to constantly explain how they are victimised and exploited. Upper castes then move on to have better social conditions to create a life they wish while marginalised fight for existence, simultaneously vocalising their subjugation even in personal spaces. However, what avenues are available for people from marginalised backgrounds to discuss complexities of their romantic relationships that most often have a bearing on their psyche, family, work and politics? It is complicated to open up about such matters as immense guilt and shame is attached to talking love, sex and relationships. Self-care is alien to women and men from my background as there is a fear of being judged, of having mind space to look after “oneself”. Where dating, intimacy and love are considered secondary while we are still battling to fulfill basic needs such as education, safe living conditions, security and health care?

For people from marginalised backgrounds such as I, are aware that it’s not so simple… What is it then we want?

We want a better world- to enjoy our life and existence without feeling ashamed and guilty. To have our rights guarded from the state and society. Freedom to pursue our desires and passions, have relationships that we want without the fear of being violated and have our lives taken away. Not to be discriminated and challenged because of our birth into a particular caste. To be done away with caste system. For that we want a partner who understands vulnerability and insecurity locked in caste strictures. A sensitive and empathetic partner that responds to us respectively, treat us with respect. A partner that acknowledge your experiences of caste as a historical baggage of violence, view us as strong people because we haven’t had it easy. All of this and more is creating a desire for a certain kind of romantic relationship. A relationship based on accountability, honesty, ethics and compassion could break barriers- make one a better partner and a comrade.

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Jyotsna Siddharth is an actor, activist and writer based in Delhi. She is a founder of Project Anti-Caste, Love and Co-founder of #Sive. She has a Masters in Development and Social Anthropology from School of Oriental and African Studies and a recipient of Chevening Scholarship (2014).