Shadi Lal was more than just a dedicated and loyal worker on our farm; he was an integral part of our extended family. From his early childhood, he grew up with us, sharing the joys and challenges of rural life in our village in Jammu. His presence was a comforting constant in our close-knit community, where we worked together and celebrated milestones as one family.

His dedication, hard work and genuine nature earned him deep respect and affection within our family. He was Dalit, but never viewed through that lens. Growing up, I was fortunate to learn important values from my grandparents and from my bua (father’s elder sister), who lived with us until her passing. Their teachings instilled a profound sense of respect and equality in me.

My respect for Shadi Lal was such that I often sought his blessings on significant occasions, such as after school exams or on my birthday. He graciously took me to local fairs and delighted me with thoughtful gifts. Festivals like Diwali, Dussehra, Holi and Shivratri felt incomplete without his warm presence as he was an esteemed and cherished part of our celebrations.

Caste discrimination, though deeply entrenched in many parts of rural India, including our village, was something our family consciously worked to rise above. Shadi Lal’s bond with our family only deepened as he continued to work in our fields, earning him a rightful share of the harvests.

I frequently visited his home, which was just a stone’s throw from ours but located in a locality reserved for families from the Scheduled Caste community. My family never objected to these visits or to me eating there as they disregarded caste-based distinctions. I grew up playing with his son, who was of my age and we attended the same school in our village. Our association continued until I left for higher studies at college and University in Jammu city.

Although Shadi Lal has since passed away and his two married daughters have settled into their own families, his son Balkrishan, known as Kaku, now retired from government service and engaged in farming, continues to visit us. He brings farm-fresh vegetables and produce, a gesture that goes beyond mere symbolism, nurturing the cherished bond between our families and bridging generations through this valued relationship.

This story not only reflects on how Shadi Lal and his family influenced social change but also highlights the harsh realities that persist despite progressive legislation and modern changes. Many people from lower castes still face significant barriers, often being denied access to public spaces, including temples and places of worship, in various parts of Himachal Pradesh.

S R Harnote, a Shimla-based Dalit author, acknowledges the persistence of traditional caste hierarchies, which affect social interactions and opportunities in ways that remain startlingly evident. Harnote’s work exposes the pervasive nature of caste discrimination and its manifestation in everyday life.

Two months ago, while traveling through Thachi, a village known for its metalcraft artistry, I encountered a poignant example of caste discrimination at the ancient Laxmi Narayan temple. The strict protocol required the priest to verify one’s caste entitlement before allowing entry.

Ved Ram, a social activist and metalcraft artist accompanying me, was not permitted inside and had to stay outside. In many villages in Kullu, where deity culture rules the lives and rituals, upper and lower-caste individuals are barred from entering temples, symbolising their marginalisation.

Preety Sharma, a young filmmaker from Mandi, powerfully depicted the harsh realities of caste discrimination and the shattered dreams of a child from a leather craftsman’s family in her short film ‘Druv Ghaas’ at Shimla’s International Film Festival.

Similarly, journalist and writer Devkanga’s film ‘Mohra’ addresses caste barriers and highlights their pervasive impact in the region.

Caste exclusion remains a harsh reality in Mandi, Shimla, Solan, Kangra, Chamba and Sirmaur. Dalits often face restrictions on accessing common facilities and have separate places for worship, cremation grounds and sources of water.

Recently, a cabinet minister visiting Mandi was told to pay obeisance from a distance when he wished to visit a temple. The issue was raised in the state assembly, but the minister chose not to pursue it as a matter of caste conflict. These ancient traditions and practices, deeply ingrained over time, will take significant effort to change.