Everyday Caste and Everyday Resistance: An Ethnographic Account From Western Uttar Pradesh

Introduction

In the last three decades or so, there have been considerable political changes in Uttar Pradesh (UP), particularly where caste is concerned. This is linked to the anti-caste movements in the state and the rise of the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP), which is seen to address issues of Jatavs and other Scheduled Castes (SCs) that had been politically marginalised. The BSP came to power first in 1995 with Mayawati as the first SC woman chief minister (CM) in UP. Although she had served as the CM of the state for three terms prior to 2007, it was in 2007 that the BSP emerged as the sole majority party in the UP assembly elections. The BSP’s coming to power made a significant impact. In the years since it first came to power, the city of Meerut, for instance, has not witnessed an event like Shergarhi in which dalits faced brutal state aggression after they installed an Ambedkar statue in a local park in 1994. The incident culminated in two dalits being killed and around 60 others injured by the police (Pai, 2002, pp. 205–206). And yet from my personal experiences of being dalit and growing up and working in Meerut, it is clear that casteism has continued in spite of the shift in politics.

In the early writing on urban areas, the city was considered an agent of social change and was seen to weaken the rigidity of caste (Wirth, 1964). This promise has, of course, not been borne out. Instead, not only are deep inequalities seen in urban areas but studies show how the social exclusion of dalits continues in residential patterns in urban areas. Contrary then to expectations, urbanisation has contributed to increasing the degree of segregation of SCs, who tend to be clustered in lower socio-economic localities built on the peripheries of urban areas (D’Souza, 1977; Gorringe, 2006). Saberwal (1976) argues that upper-castes in the 1970s seemed to believe less in inherited caste pollution and instead spoke of occupational pollution in urban areas. He, thus, argued that the social distance from Harijans is reducing in caste-neutral occupations. The writings of several social scientists reflect how SC workers and employees are harassed and targeted in the private sector (Jodhka & Newman, 2007; Knorringa, 1999). Not only in the private sector, SCs are discriminated against even in the public sector (Singh, 2013). There is significant mobilisation around caste identities in urban areas, and several caste-based associations have begun to engage in new activities, such as providing credit, hostels, and co-operative housing, and are also steadily emerging as special interest groups in modern politics (Bairy, 2010; Trivedi, 1977). Thus, while studies have highlighted the importance of caste identities in urban areas, fewer studies have looked at caste discrimination and even fewer have sought to understand the experience of caste.

While there exists a considerable body of literature that looks at the relationship between caste and politics in UP, this article seeks to contribute to the sociological literature on the experience of caste and everyday resistance to casteism in urban UP. I focus on the experiences of Jatavs, a Scheduled Caste, in three neighbourhoods in Meerut. Situated in the doab (plains between the rivers Yamuna and Ganga) and home to several industries as well as five universities, Meerut is seen as the heart of the western UP region. Given that in Meerut some neighbourhoods have a concentration of people engaged in specific occupations, I chose three neighbourhoods or mohallas in Meerut for intensive fieldwork—Bali Nagar, Sharda Nagar, and Shanti Nagar. These neighbourhoods have a concentration of footwear workers, manual labourers, and white-collar employees, respectively.

According to the 2011 census, the SCs constituted 16.2 per cent of the Indian population, ¹ 21.1 per cent of UP’s population, and 18.1 per cent of Meerut district’s population. ² Singh (1994) argues that since the beginning of the twentieth century, Jatavs have asserted a distinct identity and have violently refused to be referred to as ‘Chamars.’ ‘Chamars’ are found in most states in North India and are known by different names in different states. While Chamars are most often identified as leather workers, some authors challenge this narrative and assert that Chamars were present in agriculture not only as landless labourers but also as both tenants and owners of land in UP (see Lillingston, 1906; Rawat, 2012 [2010]). Through a focus on the three neighbourhoods I did fieldwork in, this article will look at how Jatavs experience casteism, as well as the modes of resistance and the multiple strategies employed by them to gain dignity and self-respect. ³

Anti-Caste Movements in Uttar Pradesh

The various development schemes run by the state made dalits electorally active, and after the weakening of the Congress, various associated groups detached themselves from the party, and the dalit elites too emerged as an independent political force in UP’s politics during the 1980s. The emergence of Kanshi Ram ⁴ in the 1970s is a milestone in the dalit movement in UP. Kanshi Ram was the first to make efforts to consolidate the ‘lower’ -castes. Through the ‘pay back to society’ policy of BAMCEF (Backward and Minority Communities Employees Federation), Kanshi Ram tried to establish a relation between dalit bureaucrats and the masses (Dubey, 2001, p. 298). The BAMCEF mobilised the depressed castes in this struggle by providing training and financial help. Before the emergence of the BSP, however, Ambedkarisation had started (Singh, 1998). Ambedkarisation may be explained as a critique of graded inequality ⁵ among different caste groups and as favouring of all forms of equality (social, political, and economic) (Husain, 2023). The emergence of the BSP ⁶ was the outcome of democratisation, affirmative actions, and literacy among dalits, which helped to increase political consciousness among them (Pai, 2013, p. 96). Dalit leaders of the BSP started talking about the self-respect of dalits (Kumar, 2004, p. 1781). In the late 1990s in North India, politicians were aware that untouchables had transformed themselves into a political force and their issues had to be addressed (Mendelsohn & Viciziany, 1998, p. 264). Constitutional provisions, development schemes, literacy, and Kanshi Ram, played an important role in transforming dalits into a political force in UP.

Eva-Maria Hardtmann (2012 [2009], p. 130) writes that when the BSP leader Mayawati became the CM of UP, it made the SCs feel like political rulers. Pai and Kumar (2023) have observed that during the BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) regime [2017–2022] in UP, dalits participated in protests, agitations, and rallies with their community leaders, following any incidents of atrocities. Political participation and a history of the BSP being in power in the state have enhanced the self-respect, self-confidence, and courage of dalits in UP (Kumar, 2003; Mehdi, 2014).

Nandu Ram (cited in Webster, 1996) mentions several types of dalit activism: movements against exploitation and atrocities on the dalits, movements for better access to opportunities, and movements for gaining self-respect and dignified social identity. Badri Narayan (2001, pp. 156–157) states that subaltern groups in UP develop counter-narratives for identity and political purposes and search for their own heroes and related narratives in written form. The literature also reflects upon the resistance by dalits. For instance, in Uttam Bhoite and Anuradha Bhoite’s (1977, p. 71) analysis of the Dalit Sahitya movement in Maharashtra, the authors argue that it should be perceived as a collective effort of the dalit intellectuals to modernise the dalits through their writings. Sarah Beth (2007) argues that dalit literature, especially dalit autobiographies, conveys a new meaning of dalit identity and assists the movements for resistance.

Anti-caste movements adopted several mediums for negating upper-caste dominance, music being one of them. Kalyani and Satnam Singh (2023, p. 117) state that the song of resistance (‘Mission Geet’) of dalits and bahujans became part of the everyday life of people who were struggling for an anti-caste consciousness. And it was through this movement around music that they tried to unite a bahujan samaj. ⁷ Prashant Ingole (2023, p. 140) argues that singing is used as a powerful instrument for awakening dalits. Their songs play the role of an activist and convey the message of social democracy and Ambedkar’s ideology, reminding people of the sacrifice made by dalit pioneers. In this way, music is used as a method of resistance. Swadesh Singh (2023, p. 162) states that dalits are aware that mainstream media is not suitable for their voice, so they created a space in alternative media which included newspapers, magazines, online platforms, websites, and social media. Through social media, dalits share their experiences and stories with each other, which further helps them to prevent discrimination in media such as the poor quality and extent of coverage of issues related to dalits in media. Singh (2023) further states that the use of social media enables them to influence the flow of information and agenda for national discourse. Dalit movements challenge the discriminatory social order and notions of caste and struggle for equality, liberty, social justice, and demand for sociopolitical rights for the dalits (Singh & Singh, 2023). At the same time, during my fieldwork in the three Meerut neighbourhoods, people spoke about everyday forms of resistance (see Scott, 1985). ⁸ Below I look at the experience of caste in everyday life before looking at how people resist casteism.

The Experience of Caste in Neighbourhoods

SCs are still mostly concentrated in neighbourhoods that are situated at the periphery of the city, just like they were segregated in colonies at the fringes of villages (for more detail, see Anandhi et al., 2002; Beteille, 2002). Even within government Housing Development Authority colonies, there are differences based on caste. The Meerut Housing Development Authority, like in other places, built some ‘Janta Quarters,’ which are smaller in size. During fieldwork, I observed that SCs are concentrated in Janta Quarters and in Low-Income Group houses, indicating a strong overlap with class. The experiences of dalits in these colonies, which have other castes as well, were different from the dalit neighbourhoods in the walled city of Meerut.

In multi-caste neighbourhoods, SCs feel that they are excluded from the social life of the neighbourhood and have to face caste-based comments of various kinds. In Shanti Nagar, a multi-caste neighbourhood, a park was even divided and marked out with one for upper-castes and the other for lower-castes. There was a rumour among upper-castes that the SCs wanted to install a statue of Ambedkar. To prevent this installation, the upper-castes, with the help of an influential BJP leader, fixed a stone plaque on the wall of the park and gave the park a name. This intensified ⁹ the dispute between upper-castes and dalits, who resided around the park. Later, the park was divided equally between the two groups, with the northern half for upper-castes and the southern half for the dalits, and two gardeners were also employed to look after these two portions of the park.

Caste divisions emerge in social gatherings, during festivals, as well as in friends’ and neighbourhood circles. On several occasions, ¹⁰ women invite other women of the neighbourhood for a ‘Mahila Sangeet,’ where women sing together. These occasions end with snacks offered by the host. I was told that after the Mahila Sangeet hosted by an SC woman, upper-caste women accept the eatables from the host but do not consume them there. Instead, they make an excuse and carry the food home. SC women talked about how they are convinced that the food is not eaten at home and is fed to cows. They have also noticed that if a drink is prepared at home, these women do not drink it, whereas if a bottled drink is bought and served in a disposable glass, then they drink it.

There are other ways in which lines are drawn in the neighbourhood based on caste. For example, one of the residents of Shanti Nagar, a multi-caste neighbourhood, told me about an upper-caste neighbour who had organised a birthday party for his son and invited most of the children but excluded the SC children, even though they all played together in the park. Similarly, Vishnu Chand, a resident of the Janta Quarters, noticed that during the Navratri, ¹¹ only kanyas (young girls, maidens) belonging to the SC and other lower-caste communities would come to his home. Upper-caste children did not go to a dalit’s house, particularly in the Janta Quarters, where they would be offered food and some money.

Friendships are also influenced by caste. Ramdev Singh, who lives in Bali Nagar, once went with some friends including a Thakur and two Punjabis to meet another upper-caste Thakur friend of theirs. The host offered tea to all. When they were drinking tea, Ramdev noticed the host taking a piece of newspaper and crushing it into a small ball. He hid that ball between his fingers, and after they had finished their tea he took the cups into the kitchen. The friends were talking about caste-based discrimination, and Ramdev Singh said ‘aap log aaj bhi hame apna nahi maante’ (you still do not consider us like your own; that is, equal). Other friends replied that they had all had tea together, so Ramdev Singh asked to visit his host’s kitchen. The host looked awkward, but all the friends went to the kitchen and they found there were only four cups, one cup was missing. Ramdev Singh told them that the fifth cup must be in the dustbin, and indeed it was! He told his friends that the host had put a paper ball in the cup used by him as a way of marking it. Because Ramdev Singh was a Jatav, his friend had considered the cup he had drunk from to be polluted. In pointing out what his host had done, Ramdev Singh showed his friends how untouchability continues and felt he had put pressure on his friend to correct their behaviour.

Jatavs also often experience isolation and do not feel welcome in the neighbourhood. They experience instances of casteism, which are mostly couched through idioms of ‘cleanliness.’ In multi-caste neighbourhoods, when Jatavs interact with others, or when they visit other homes, they carry a fear that casteism may strike anytime. Even friendships, as was seen, are not immune to casteism.

However, in dalit neighbourhoods in Meerut city, Jatavs feel comfortable and experience a sense of belongingness, which unites them as a samaj. For the residents of a dalit neighbourhood, ‘samaj’ means a group of people living in close proximity. Members of a samaj collectively take the responsibility of celebrations or other events and help each other out. Residents of Bali Nagar do not hire waiters to serve food, rather, young boys from the samaj collectively do it. This reflects the feeling of belongingness. There is also an exchange of food between neighbours in everyday life.

In Bali Nagar, this solidarity between residents can be seen at the time of death of any member of the samaj. At least one person from each family participates in the funeral procession, and they carry the bier over their shoulders, instead of using a vehicle. People in the neighbourhood are proud of this tradition. If a person in a poor family passes away, the other neighbours assist financially to cover the expenses of the cremation. In fact, in Bali Nagar, when an elderly man got upset with the neighbourhood boys about something, the boys apologised and asked if they had been forgiven. One of the boys told me that Jagjeet Singh, the elderly man, had replied with a smile, ‘tum se naraaj ho kar kahaan jaunga, mujhe shamsaan to tumhare kandhon pe hi jana hai’ [I cannot get angry with you. Ultimately, you will carry my body on your shoulders to the cremation ground]. The neighbourhood is thus seen to bind people together.

The residents of dalit neighbourhoods have an understanding that members of the samaj are equal, and they consciously seem to make efforts to maintain this equality so that their samaj remains intact. If a new resident of the same caste but of higher status comes to live in the neighbourhood, or a resident gains in status, this temporarily unsettles the equality, and residents attempt to restore the balance. Neighbours spoke of black magic or getting a resident addicted to liquor or gambling as a means of restoring equality. When the sense of being part of the same or equal status was unsettled in dalit neighbourhoods, it often seemed to lead to the person being censured for thinking of themselves as superior. In turn, the prosperous person felt that others were jealous and may even suspect his/her neighbours of performing black magic on them. Cooperation and support between neighbours are premised then on a feeling of equality.

The Experience of Caste at Workplace

To earn their livelihood, Jatavs have to go to different places, and their experiences of caste are deeply influenced by the nature of their jobs and workplaces. The experiences of caste vary in different spaces—in domestic spaces, the market, public sector employment, and in the private sector. Jatavs in Meerut city, who work in the footwear industry, do not face any resistance as this is considered to be tied to their traditional occupation. However, when they seek to open a shop in the market, they face a lot of resistance from traditional business communities who do not seem ready to accept their presence. Bablu Singh, in his 50s, who is a wholesale dealer in shoes and raw materials for tracksuits, told me that he never faced any caste-based opposition, but when his son, a chef specialising in non-vegetarian Mughlai food, tried to open a restaurant in the main market of a relatively new colony, he faced a lot of opposition from the rest of the upper-caste shop owners in the market. They objected to him selling non-vegetarian food and called an upper-caste trade union leader for support. However, Singh and the union leader knew each other, and in fact, Singh had helped the union leader a few times, so he could not oppose the restaurant strongly. He met Singh later to tell him that he had no objections to the restaurant. Singh told me that he felt the only reason for the objection by other shop owners was that he belonged to the SC community. He felt that, in the end, the upper-caste shop keepers had their way because fewer and fewer people came to the restaurant, and eventually, he had to shut down the restaurant.

Similarly, Jaipal Singh, a vegetable seller, also faced caste discrimination in the market. Singh is a Jatav and sells vegetables in Shanti Nagar. His sales were excellent initially and he would earn between ₹1,000 and ₹2,000 per day, but then his sales decreased. He was convinced that someone had disclosed his caste identity in the area. This is the kind of incident that feeds into the fear that Jatavs have about casteism. Yashpal Singh deliberately named his jewellery showroom ‘Paras Jewellers.’ The word ‘Paras’ is derived from ‘Parshvanath,’ a Jain Tirthankara, ¹² and through this act of naming, Singh tried to present the owner of the showroom as a Jain. Yashpal Singh had noticed that the customers at his jewellery showroom were largely Jain and upper-caste people. Once, a Baniya enquired about Yashpal Singh’s caste, and after learning that he was a Jatav, the man objected, stating that jewellery work was not for dalits. After this incident, the number of upper-caste customers at his jewellery showroom gradually reduced.

SC labourers and domestic helpers spoke to me about how they had noticed that the behaviour of non-SCs changed after knowing their caste identity, and they started discriminating against them. Most of the SC labourers saw that in non-SC households, employers provided them with separate glasses to drink water from, and they were made to clean those glasses themselves. Sometimes, non-SC employers ask them to take water from a sarkari nal (government hand pump). They also do not allow their workers to use the toilets in their house unless it is an old toilet that is not in use; this poses more difficulty for women.

Most of the SC employees in the public sector experienced that they were not treated equally in comparison to their non-SC counterparts and faced discrimination in many forms. It is a general conception among SC employees in the public sector that they are recognised by their caste rather than their competency. Many Jatavs revealed how they were humiliated by being identified solely on the basis of their caste, with their capabilities ignored many a time. Public sector SC employees thought that mistakes of non-SC employees were usually overlooked, but if they were unable to complete a task, his/her capability was questioned immediately, and it was generally said that ‘these people [SCs] come through reservation and do not know anything.’ Sometimes, pejorative statements about SCs are made in a group assuming that everyone is upper-caste. Balveer Singh, a government employee, told me that a Thakur officer who was not aware of Singh’s caste had boasted in a group that he had ‘spoiled’ (that is, put negative comments in) the confidential files of three to four SC employees.

SC employees also feel that they are consciously kept away from availing financial benefits. Yashveer Singh, who retired as a senior clerk from the UP Board for Intermediate Education, shared that he was a sincere and hardworking employee. He felt that often SC employees are given ‘sensitive work’ in which there is a greater possibility of a mistake being made and consequently greater risk of termination. His promotion was delayed for 20 years, while his colleagues were promoted at the right time. Others I interviewed spoke about their papers for reimbursement taking longer than usual. For example, Tikam Chand, in his 50s, who worked as a clerk in the public sector told me about how he was seriously injured in 2015 in an accident, but one year later when I met him, his medical bills were still pending.

The rise of the BSP in UP did bring about significant changes in the life of dalits, and most people will agree that BSP boosted the self-respect and self-confidence of dalits in UP (Mehdi, 2014, p. 96). However, while dalits could claim a space in politics, casteism remains strong in multi-caste neighbourhoods, in the sphere of work whether in the public sector or private sector, or when working in domestic spaces and also in the religious sphere.

Everyday Forms of Resistance to Casteism

In his book Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance, James Scott (1985) writes about how poor peasants in Malaysia challenged the hegemony of rich farmers. In contrast to the writing on peasants that focussed on large movements, Scott sought to highlight everyday forms of resistance such as boycotts, quiet strikes, theft, and malicious gossip. In a similar vein, I would like to argue that while UP has seen very successful anti-caste movements and the entry of dalits into politics, everyday forms of resistance of dalits have not received enough attention.

In everyday life, Jatavs experience casteism in many forms but they do not accept it silently and often try their best to resist it. As explained earlier, living in a multi-caste neighbourhood is a continuous struggle for them. In response to this casteism, Jatavs employ several strategies to resist casteism in multi-caste neighbourhoods. Elsewhere I have written that the issue of cleanliness of individuals and houses is important in multi-caste neighbourhoods, and SCs often receive comments on cleanliness, but they do not accept these silently (Singh, 2020). Ram Kumar, a bank clerk, told me that an upper-caste woman who lived in the neighbourhood came to see his wife in their home. On her request, his wife took her to their kitchen where she looked surprised and exclaimed ‘your kitchen is very clean and tidy.’ When Ram Kumar’s wife visited this neighbour’s house, she made a point to comment that the kitchen was very dirty! Sometimes, people feel compelled to address the stereotype about cleanliness. For example, an old Jatav man told me that he advised his wife that even if she did not have a bath she should wet her saree and hang it out to dry in front of their house in order to display her cleanliness.

As mentioned earlier, food remains an area in which caste and casteism continue to be reflected. Again, SCs were not passive receptors of this casteism. SC women told me that in order to display their resistance to the upper-caste women’s practice of not eating the food served during Mahila Sangeet hosted by them, they too did not eat what was given at an upper-caste women’s house. In other words, to resist this form of casteism, the SC women mirror the behaviour of the upper-caste women. Sometimes, SCs use abusive language as a tool to resist casteism. Some of my respondents mentioned that they at times leave the message that they consume large amounts of liquor just to give an impression that they may create trouble in the future. Om Prakash, a tailor and part-time property dealer living in the Janta Quarters in Shanti Nagar, shared a strategy he used to resist casteism. In order to scare his neighbours, Prakash would tell them that one night he drank half a bottle of liquor. Prakash believes that his ability to drink large amounts of liquor gives the impression that he is not gentle and may be dangerous. Besides this, SCs thought that the presence of SC officers in the neighbourhood and senior officers visiting their homes helped to suppress the casteist sentiment among upper-caste neighbours.

When Jaipal Singh’s vegetable sales decreased dramatically, as narrated previously, he projected his caste as ‘Kumhar’ (potter) and saw a perceptible surge in sales. In addition, Singh tried to make up for the losses by selling vegetables in different neighbourhoods on a vending cart. He also spoke about how he changed his greetings in different neighbourhoods in order to blend in. Similarly, while upper-caste customers stopped visiting Yashpal Singh’s jewellery showroom after learning of his caste identity, the number of Jatav customers increased. To manage the initial decrease in the number of customers, Yashpal’s son Karamveer learned astrology, which helped him sell gems also. In addition, he works as a motivational speaker and a life coach.

I heard of many cases like that of Ramdev Singh who confronted his friends and told them that casteism still existed. Ramesh Kumar, who is in his 50s, and runs a shoe store in Shanti Nagar market, told me about a customer who always made the payment by throwing the money on the floor, instead of giving it in his hand. When this happened for the third time, Kumar called out this behaviour and politely instructed the customer to pick the money up and give it to him in his hand. Ramesh said that he knew the customer was trying to avoid the possibility of touch and could see that it was because of his caste, and hence had got angry and admonished him.

Similarly, dalit labourers and domestic workers experienced discrimination on different occasions: e.g., being served tea in stained broken cups, being asked to fetch water from outside, or getting water served in separate bottles. Their ways of resisting these forms of discrimination were many. They objected when served tea in a broken or discarded cup. For example, a carpenter called Deshraj, in his 50s, said that he and a friend had gone to work in an upper-caste house, and when they asked for water, they were offered a dirty lota (mug) from a store room where discarded things were kept. They refused to drink the water offered and instead picked up their tools after reprimanding the employer and stopped working there. Lokesh, who generally accepted contracts for painting, reported an incident involving discrimination when he and his colleagues went to work in a Pandit’s (brahmin) house. One day, during their tea break, they were served tea in extremely dirty cups. Lokesh threw the cup outside on the road, following which he had an argument with the lady of the house, where he said that he had not even asked for tea. Finally, Lokesh collected his payment and left the house with the rest of the workers. The domestic helpers I interviewed in Sharda Nagar said that they were aware of their upper-caste employers’ inability to run their households without their support, so they were able to bargain with them over their wages. In some cases, the women reported that they stopped working in houses if an employer misbehaved with them. They described an incident in which the upper-caste employer had gone to the residence of the domestic helper and shouted at her and threatened her. However, other domestic helpers residing in close proximity to her assembled and opposed the employer.

In the public sector, however, employees have to work and behave within an institutional setup, and the scope of resistance is very limited. Veerpal Singh, a retired police constable, told me that he joined in 1977 in the Muzaffarnagar district, and after few days, he had to fight with an Other Backward Class (OBC) constable. Later, when the Station House Officer inquired about the incident, Singh replied that by making casteist comments against him, the OBC constable committed a mistake; however, he admitted that his retaliation was also a mistake. However, the Station House Officer did not say anything to Singh. Singh revealed that he had to retaliate against the casteism of other constables during most of his postings. Through his writing ability, Singh left an impression on his colleagues that he was capable of writing to higher officers also, so his Station House Officers were unable to exercise their control over him. Veerpal Singh thought that even a minor mistake committed by SC employees was exposed so that they grovel and bend before non-SC employees, but he revealed that he never bent, and instead chose to provide written responses. Charat Singh, in his 30s, who worked as a class II officer in a government office in Delhi, shared about the behaviour of one of his upper-caste officers, who assigned him tasks that were the job of a peon. Singh completed the tasks twice but the third time around, he responded to his officer with the suggestion that such type of tasks (cleaning blackboard, cleaning fan, etc.) should be given to a peon. To avoid mistakes, SC employees in the public sector exercise caution, since they are aware of the lack of necessary support.

In predominantly dalit neighbourhoods, Jatavs follow the beliefs and rituals of the Hindu religion and invite Brahmin priests or pundits to get rituals performed. However, Jatavs are often dissatisfied with the behaviour of these pundits. It is a common practice to offer food to them at the end of rituals, but they generally accept dakshina (offering) and only food that is raw ¹³ and are reluctant to consume food. Sometimes, pundits ask for the food to be sent home but Jatavs doubt whether the food is consumed. The Jatavs have figured out an alternative to avoid inviting pundits. For example, they may fix the date of a ceremony after consulting astrologers but avoid inviting pundits, or they may invite priests of the Jatav caste. The other option they have figured out is to get the ritual performed by an elder family member. For wedding rituals, family members may take the help of a book of rituals.

There are many Buddha Vihars ¹⁴ in Meerut city. I attended many meetings at one Buddha Vihar situated in Shanti Nagar during my fieldwork in 2016. By this time, members of the Buddha Vihar were extensively using social media networking applications such as WhatsApp. I was also added to a WhatsApp group of the Buddha Vihar members, and to several other WhatsApp groups of dalits. Every day, I received a large number of messages through these groups. These messages were about caste and religious discrimination, dalit identity, atrocities on dalits, and dalit movements in different parts of India. Surprisingly, these issues were totally absent in mainstream media. Social media was aiding the quick circulation of information among members. Whenever Jatavs received news about atrocities on dalits, rapes of dalit women or girls, a discussion about conversion to Buddhism ensued. Most often though before conversion, they thought about the post-conversion problems, and postponed the resolve to convert. ¹⁵ It would seem that Jatavs convey the message of conversion to upper-caste Hindus as a warning to correct their behaviour. This too is a form of resistance.

Conclusion

Casteism is an everyday experience for Jatavs in Meerut city, whether overt or in more subtle ways. A fear of casteism constantly hangs over dalits, whether in relationships with friends, neighbours, at the workplace, and this in turn informs their everyday behaviour and their identity. At the same time, while Jatavs face humiliation and carry a fear of casteism, they do not accept casteism and humiliation silently and resist in different ways. If they find that their neighbours are casteist, they maintain formal, minimal relations with that neighbour in order to limit his/her casteist behaviour.

The language of untouchability and of purity and pollution is often presented in the garb of cleanliness. Non-dalits justify their distance from dalits in the name of cleanliness. Dalits then feel they need to perform cleanliness. However, they also subvert the idea by projecting themselves as clean and identifying non-dalits as dirty. They also resist and break caste boundaries drawn around them by moving into new occupations or confronting friends who are casteist.