Casteism is a mindset that can persist regardless of economic status. Reforming reservation to target genuine disadvantage can help with material inequality (creamy layer), but it won't erase prejudice. Parallel efforts like education, intercommunity contact, strict anti-discrimination enforcement are needed to change attitudes. Reservations will/should exist for as long as casteism does.

Thank you so much for reading and sharing such a thoughtful response Suraksha. I’m really glad the piece resonated with you, especially your point about seeing through their lens, that’s exactly what I was hoping to achieve.
You’ve hit on something really important about how we think caste has been “pushed to the past” in the hills. While it’s true that overt discrimination is less visible now, what I found in my research is that these hierarchies often just transform rather than disappear. They show up in marriage patterns where inter-caste unions still face family resistance, in how certain communities have better access to education or business opportunities, and even in subtle ways during religious ceremonies or community events. In tea plantation areas specifically, the colonial labor system created these layered forms of marginalization that affected both caste and gender dynamics in ways that still echo today.
I completely agree with you that real change happens when we acknowledge these realities instead of ignoring them. It’s uncomfortable but necessary work.
As for the research methodology you asked about; studying caste and gender in tea plantations requires extensive fieldwork combining oral history interviews with multiple generations, ethnographic observation of daily life, and diving deep into colonial archives and plantation records. It’s about building trust within communities and being really sensitive to how discussing caste can be both empowering and potentially divisive. The interdisciplinary approach draws from anthropology, sociology, labor history, and gender studies to create a fuller picture.
It’s definitely extensive work, but as you said, it’s worthwhile because only by understanding how these systems continue to operate can we work toward genuine equality. Your engagement with this topic gives me hope that more people are willing to have these difficult but important conversations.
Thanks again for taking the time to read and respond so thoughtfully.

Thank you for engaging so thoughtfully with the piece. It’s conversations like these that remind me why writing about these issues matters, even when they’re uncomfortable to confront.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ You’re absolutely right about the gap between what our Constitution promises and the reality we still face. It’s disheartening that despite having these protections on paper, casteism continues to quietly shape lives and experiences, especially in places like Darjeeling where these dynamics often get overlooked in broader conversations.
I love that you brought up John Lennon’s “Imagine”; those lyrics perfectly capture what we’re talking about. Sure, it might sound idealistic, just like the vision of a truly caste-free society might seem to some people. But I think that’s exactly what we need to hold onto as a society. Sometimes the most “unrealistic” dreams are the ones worth striving for, because they push us to keep working toward something better, even if we take it one small step at a time.

Even though Article 15 of the Indian Constitution prohibits discrimination on the grounds of race, caste and religion. It is unfortunate and sad that casteism is still alive and slithers in these modern times.

P.S. The words of John Lennon rings in my ears "Imagine all the people, living life in peace"...

Thank you so much sir for taking the time to read and respond so thoughtfully. You know how much I value your feedback, you’ve always been such a wonderful supporter of my work, and more importantly, the kind of critic I truly need. Your honest perspectives push me to think deeper, and this response is no different.
I can feel the personal pain in your words about how these dynamics have affected relationships that were once so close to your heart, and that really strikes me.
Your observations about the “creamy layer” issue are spot-on, and honestly, I’ve wrestled with this myself. Those examples you shared, seeing established SC families still accessing quotas generation after generation, do make one question whether the system is achieving what it originally set out to do.
But here’s what keeps me up at night thinking about this, while we see these success stories, the larger picture still shows that most SC communities are struggling. I know it’s hard to reconcile when you’re seeing your friend’s son get advantages your son doesn’t, but statistically, the majority are still way behind.
Maybe the real issue isn’t just tweaking the reservation policy, but getting to that place where none of this matters because we’ve truly moved beyond judging people by their last names. I know that sounds idealistic, but I really believe that’s the only way forward.
I really feel for you when you talk about how these issues have affected your personal relationships. It’s heartbreaking, honestly. These policies weren’t meant to drive wedges between friends, but sometimes that’s exactly what happens.
You’ve raised questions that policymakers really need to grapple with seriously. Your point about 75 years being long enough deserves a proper debate, not just political rhetoric.
Thanks again for engaging with my work the way you always do, with such honesty and depth. You know these conversations with you always leave me thinking for days. Even when we might see things a bit differently, I deeply value how you make me examine my own assumptions. These conversations, difficult as they may be, are essential for our collective growth.
With warm regards and deep respect for your candid sharing.

Thank you for such encouraging feedback. Comments like yours motivate me to keep writing. I’m glad the essay connected with you, and I hope you’ll check back for future pieces.

Thank you so much for sharing something so deeply personal and painful. Your courage in speaking about these experiences, especially that heartbreaking moment in the hospital, really moved me. I can only imagine how confusing and hurtful that must have been, particularly at such a young age and from someone your family considered close.
Your question cuts to the heart of it all, how can anyone be blamed for the circumstances of their birth? You’re absolutely right that recognition should come from our abilities, our character, and our contributions, not from surnames or perceived social hierarchies. The fact that you approached that dying man with pure compassion, wanting only to ease his pain, says everything about who you are as a person.
I’m grateful you also mentioned those who have welcomed you with open arms, it gives me hope that change, however slow, is happening. Your words about us all bleeding red when cut is such a powerful reminder of our shared humanity.
You’re right that this topic gets swept under the carpet far too often. That’s exactly why I felt compelled to write about it, and knowing that it resonated with someone who has lived these realities means more than I can express. Your voice and experiences matter tremendously in these conversations.
Thank you for reading, for sharing your story, and for your incredibly kind words about the piece. Please keep sharing your perspective, the world needs to hear it. Your insights help make these hidden struggles visible, and that’s how real change begins.
With deep respect and gratitude.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​