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On a bright sunny morning in August 2007, Palanichamy’s son, Senthil Kumar, got a call from the University of Hyderabad, informing him that he had been selected to pursue a doctorate at the university’s School of Physics.
“You should have seen him jump with joy,” says his father, with a glint in his eye.
Palanichamy was a pig-breeder in Jalakandapuram near Salem, and had never been to school. His son’s PhD scholarship was an unimaginable achievement.
There was a tight deadline though — he was asked to report to Hyderabad at 3 pm the very next day, or he could lose the opportunity.
“He was to return two days later, early in the morning. I went and sat at the teashop at 4 am, waiting for him to come. He got down the bus and looked for me, knowing I would be waiting. As he spotted me, he raised his hand for a thumbs-up,” reminisces Palanichamy, and then his expression of pride breaks down to loud sobs.
Senthil Kumar had a dream — he wanted to be like former President Abdul Kalam. But when he entered the University of Hyderabad, his dreams were shattered. He was not allotted an academic guide, because of which he failed the exam and lost his scholarship.
On 24 February 2008, following months of discrimination at the hands of his professors, Senthil Kumar is believed to have killed himself in his hostel room at the University campus by consuming poison.
A University inquiry held later stated that there was a culture of discrimination against Dalit students at the science department. The poor family, ‘paniyandis’ from the lowest of castes making a living through breeding pigs, had to spend close to Rs. 50,000 just to get his body back from Hyderabad.
Eight years later, they still haven’t got any of Senthil’s possessions back. “He used to write a diary, we tried to get it back for two years. Then we just stopped,” says Saravanan, Senthil’s brother who now works at a meat shop.
The University gave them a compensation of Rs 5 lakh, but there wasn’t even one condolence message from the officials, he says.
“Can’t we study? So what if we were from the lower caste, can we not dare to move ahead in life?” asks Deivanai, with tears welling up in her eyes.
Now, no one in Palanichamy’s family wants an education. His daughter and Senthil’s younger sister Kamakshi’s sons – Gunakesar and Surya aged 14 and 16 – have quit school. They work the power looms in textile factories.
“What if they kill my grandkids too?” asks Deivanai. “But that is wrong, you have to educate them,” I say, and she shoots back with anger, “We did the right thing with one son, and we lost him. I hate education, I hate that word.”
The family had struggled hard to pay for Senthil’s education. Both Saravanan and Kamakshi had dropped out, but the school headmaster had insisted that Senthil should continue. So the family did everything they could.
When Senthil died, only two people helped them, says the family—Dalit leader D Ravikumar and anti-caste activist Kathir of NGO Evidence. Kathir helped them with money for the travel expenses, and Ravikumar helped them fight for an inquiry and with compensation.
The lack of any support from the DMK particularly, hurt Deivanai because at the time of Senthil’s death, she was propped up by the local DMK unit, as the Councillor for the local body ward. Her ward was a reserved seat, so she fought and won, although she didn’t have any power.
(Ramanathan S works with The News Minute.)
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