Mother, who taught us to hate?

– Sweekriti

Mulk Raj Anand wrote,

“ A single day of humiliation can echo in the mind long after the moment has passed ,” in his book Untouchable.

Trauma doesn’t always arrive loudly. Sometimes it slips in quietly — through a classroom seat kept separate, a water pot you aren’t allowed to touch, a look that tells you that you do not belong. Caste in India isn’t a chapter from history; it’s something that still shadows people in their daily lives. People from lower-caste communities often carry a heavier emotional load — not just because of poverty, but because of the constant reminders society gives them. In 2023, nine-year-old Indra Meghwal was beaten by his teacher for drinking water from the “wrong” pot. In some schools in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, Dalit children were still made to sit apart during midday meals. In Tamil Nadu, 17-year-old Prabhu Raj died by suicide after being mocked by classmates for his caste. These stories don’t belong in old black-and-white photos; they appear in our newsfeed.

Sujatha Gidla once wrote, 

“Humiliation was the first lesson we were taught. Before school, before prayer, before anything.”

When children grow up hearing they are “less,” they eventually begin to believe it. Psychologists call it internalised stigma — but in reality, it feels like carrying someone else’s opinion of you inside your skin. It shapes how loudly you speak, how much you dream, and how much space you believe you deserve. Money, or lack thereof makes this burden even heavier. Therapy costs more than what many families earn in a week, so pain becomes something people learn to endure quietly. During the pandemic, daily-wage workers in Bihar and Jharkhand were pushed into deeper distress; some did not survive it. Meanwhile, those with more privilege turned to therapy apps, online sessions, and wellness retreats. Even the words we use reveal inequality. The privileged say “anxiety.” The poor say “tension.”

Both mean to say that the heart is tired and the soul is seeking peace. Across rural India, caste and poverty intertwine in small, cutting, and significant ways: a Dalit patient made to wait longer at a clinic; a family denied access to a public water tap; a child who eats separately every day until the silence becomes a habit. These quiet humiliations stack up into something heavy — something that doesn’t show on the skin but settles deep in the mind.

Journalist Josy Joseph wrote in A Feast of Vultures,

“For many children in India, suffering becomes normal before they even know the word for it.”

In 2025, a Dalit girl in a Maharashtra boarding home died by suicide after months of bullying. Only then did the school bring in counsellors. By the time institutions respond, someone is already lost. Healing isn’t only about therapy — it is about dignity, being treated with equality, and about growing up in a world where belonging isn’t something you have to fight for.