A Struggle for Equality: The Fine Line Between Help and Hierarchy.

I’ve personally suffered from caste discrimination. Once, I was asked to pay a fee of ₹500, while certain groups were exempted. I remember sitting alone one afternoon, results in my hand, watching my name not make the list. My friend, with marks lower than mine, got the job. He smiled as he walked past, his eyes filled with relief. I didn’t hate him. I just hated how the system made me feel invisible. That day, it wasn’t just about marks. It was about being reminded of where I didn’t belong. Why does a system punish one for the wrongs of the past? Why must one suffer while another enjoys? I’ve always supported giving opportunities to lower-income groups, but caste-based benefits left me confused. I found myself asking: “Why am I suffering for my forefathers’ sins?” I often wondered: Why do the wrongs of a few lead to the suffering of an entire community? And why does the suffering of some become the source of privilege for others? These questions haunted me, especially when I faced moments of discrimination that felt deeply unfair. Some say caste-based benefits are society’s way of repaying a historical debt. And perhaps, for those who’ve been kept at the margins for centuries, it is a necessary start. But what happens when help turns into hierarchy again? When does merit feel muffled? These questions don’t cancel each other—they coexist, demanding deeper conversations. 

"True progress is when barriers are removed, not when they're justified."

At first, I couldn't see the whole picture—I was caught in my pain and confusion. But slowly, with time and awareness, my perspective shifted when I watched Pariyerum Perumal and Jai Bhim. And they shook me. Pariyerum Perumal follows a lower-caste law student who dreams of equality, only to be met with brutal discrimination. It isn’t just a film—it’s a cry from the margins, exposing how casteism infects even sacred spaces like education. Jai Bhim, based on a real-life case fought by Justice Chandru, reveals the crushing injustice faced by tribal communities. It’s more than a legal drama—it’s about dignity, truth, and the deafening silence surrounding caste hierarchy and police brutality. 

"Law is not a weapon for the powerful. It’s a shield for the powerless." - Jai Bhim. 

For those unaware of this continued oppression, these films don’t just tell stories—they demand attention. They shake your conscience. Other powerful films like Asuran (2019), Karnan (2021), and Article 15 (2019) have also illuminated this harsh reality. Maybe change doesn’t begin with grand reforms, but by listening to stories we were never taught to hear. Watching those films made me sit with my discomfort. I had always questioned the fairness of caste-based policies, but as I saw the struggles of those who’ve been affected for generations, I couldn’t help but feel deeply for them. With my privileges—my access to education and opportunities—I sometimes feel overlooked, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be silenced for so long. I understand now that there's a deep pain that needs attention, and empathy is the first step toward bridging that gap. One day, that line will grow thinner and thinner until we all stand on the same level. And in that moment, no one will hurt anyone else, nor will anyone receive privilege for having been hurt. Everyone will be equal, and only skill and merit will give someone the advantage.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” — Martin Luther King Jr.

We all know that Dr. B.R. Ambedkar faced severe discrimination. He didn’t respond with vengeance—he empowered the oppressed through education, law, and reform. If Ambedkar hadn’t stood up, who knows what India would look like today? Without him, perhaps the oppressed might have been forced to fight back violently. That would have led to a cycle of pain and instability—something that would have burdened both people and government, and given certain political groups dangerous leverage. “There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless.’ There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.” I relate to Gandhi, who was born into privilege, but when he was thrown off a train in South Africa, he truly felt the sting of discrimination. That moment changed something in him. In that sense, I admire Periyar and Bharathiyar even more. Despite being from privileged backgrounds and having the option to live comfortably, they chose to empathize deeply with the struggles of the underprivileged and fought fiercely for their rights. Dr. Ambedkar once said: 

“Caste is not a physical object like a wall of bricks or a line of barbed wire which prevents the Hindus from co-mingling and which has therefore to be pulled down. Caste is a notion; it is a state of the mind.”

In the movie Mudhalvan, a character says,

“Let’s change four into two, and someday our leaders will make it one.” 

It’s a powerful dream of unity, of humanity. For me, that vision is a world without caste or privilege. A dreamland. But deep down, I know it may never fully come true, because people hold such deeply rooted mindsets. Still, I hope. I hope that someday, humanity will rise above all divisions. After writing this article, I realized something: I’ve changed my mindset. Earlier, I used to blame the government. But now, I see the complexity. Writing on such a deeply sensitive topic wasn’t easy. I weighed every sentence, paused at every phrase, constantly questioning—Will this offend anyone? Is this fair? I re-read lines multiple times, trimming and reshaping my thoughts. Still, I know some may suggest edits or removals. But honestly, how can I expect the government to make changes that satisfy every section of such a diverse society? To think someone is superior by birth is, to me, the highest form of stupidity. It has no logic—it’s just an excuse to treat another human being badly. But here’s the truth: no one can be suppressed forever. History has shown us—even the most powerful dictators have fallen. I’ll end with this: without a change in mindset, nothing else will truly change. Discrimination and undeserved privilege will persist. It’s like giving someone a beating—and then offering them candy. 

“We are not against any caste. We are against the idea of caste itself.” — Periyar E.V. Ramasamy

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