KOCHI: Five years ago, Kerala woke up to the shocking news of a mob lynching a 30-year-old tribal youth, Madhu, in Attappadi. His alleged crime was stealing rice from a grocery shop. The incident led to a huge social uproar. Every passing year, we saw sporadic calls for justice. Nothing much happened. Madhu’s face, with that dismayed expression, continues to haunt us – anyone who is socially conscious, that is.
Witnesses have turned hostile, and the accused are out on bail. Justice, as of now, seems to be far away. What’s appalling are the missing ‘voices’. Outrage has died a natural death. Madhu’s ordeal has been forgotten. Almost.
Last month, another tribal farmer named Viswanathan was found dead on the Kozhikode Medical College premises. He was allegedly manhandled on suspicion of being a thief. The 46-year-old Wayanad native had become a father just three days ago.
One common factor in both cases is the way the victims ‘looked’ and their roots, note activists as well as social observers. “No one speaks about what happened to Viswanathan. The government has provided his family with Rs 2 lakh as compensation. That’s it,” says tribal rights activist Manikandan C, 33, who is a teaching assistant at Kerala Veterinary and Animal Sciences University.
“In the same area, another man was killed by a tiger some months ago. His family has given `10 lakh as compensation, and his son was given a government job. Of course, that family deserves it. But so does the family of Viswanathan.” There is anger in Manikandan’s voice. “The colour of our skin, the shape of our eyes, the texture of our hair, everything is different,” he adds.
“And that is how society views us – differently. That alienation begins from the time we join schools. It follows us to colleges, and then to our workspaces. It exists when we hail a bus, get into an auto-rickshaw, or sit alone in a public space. I have seen young mothers from tribal communities such as Paniya and Kattunayka standing in buses, as people hesitate to offer or share a seat. I have seen people refusing to sit near a tribal person.”
From schools to government offices, Manikandan fumes, tribal people face discrimination. “Even at government offices, an elderly tribal person, for instance, will not receive the same courtesy as in the case of others. I have seen my 75-year-old grandfather and grandmother experiencing this bias,” he says.
“The very people who are supposed to serve us – the people – make us feel inferior. The so-called educated and progressive society should be taught about equality. Awareness should be spread, right from childhood.”
‘Deep-rooted bias’
Judgemental stares and words follow everyone society deems different, says Arvind Divakaran, 29, a Dalit youth who runs an art space, ‘Thuruth’, in Kochi. “Many people still associate dark skin colour with something inferior or undesirable,” he says.
“This bias is deeply-rooted. It has been drilled in for ages that white is beautiful. As a result, people with fair skin are, by default, considered superior. Everyone likes a black pen or car. When it comes to things and clothes, black is good. But when it comes to people, that love dips. And that comes from generational learning.”
Things are improving, Arvind adds. “Thanks to social media, we see more black actors, models and activists from other countries. This has boosted the confidence among youngsters here. That is why, more youngsters with dark skin are emerging with confidence, at least in social media spaces,” he notes.
“There are photoshoots, music videos, etc., happening. But there is resistance in the mainstream. How many dark-skinned lead actors are there in Malayalam cinema today? That is why Kunchacko Boban had to don brown make-up to act in Nna Thaan Case Kodu, a film that I loved. Now Tovino Thomas is also appearing as a dark-skinned person in another film. Parvathy Thiruvothu in Aanum Pennum is another example.”
Rejidev, who co-founded the Insta page ‘BLACKINKBLOTS’ with Arvind, says the culture of white persons donning black make-up is called “black fishing”. “We can say the same is, in a way, being done here,” he adds. “The justification being offered is artistic freedom. Well, there is no artistic integrity in discrimination. Actor Vinayakan, for instance, once said he was confined to ‘kallimundu’ roles. The reason is twofold — skin colour and caste. Unless the media – films, theatre, art, cartoons and comics – starts normalising dark-skinned characters, society at large will continue to deem them as inferior.”
‘Not a woke thing’
Writer Aleena says she is now used to prejudice. “My skin reveals my caste. Because dark skin – which is present in all communities – is associated with marginalised communities,” she says. “I have never been able to understand whether the judgemental stares are just about my skin.”
She adds that discrimination based on skin colour can be seen even in so-called progressive Kerala’s public spaces. “Once I was at a tea shop with my friends. It is a hangout spot for youngsters. A policeman came up and started checking the men asking whether they were carrying weed. And his first target was dark, young men,” Aleena says.
On the other side, she highlights, many people tend to “hypersexualise dark-skinned people”. “There are some social media influencers who frequently post their photoshoot and dance videos,” she says. “They are often viewed with an element of exotica.”
Aleena also believes accepting or liking dark skin should not be reduced as “a woke thing or sign of political correctness”. “It should be normalised, and that’s where visual media can help, especially films,” she says.
It is not only her skin that gets judged, Aleena adds. “My clothes, too, become an issue for some. One’s dressing is still considered a yardstick of character and morality, she stresses. Ad filmmaker and assistant movie director Kavitha Jayasree, of Thiruvananthapuram, agrees. “I am comfortable in jeans and T-shirts. I am a bit tall and dark, and have short hair,” she says.
“People brand me as a ‘thantedi’ (brazen) or ‘ahankari’ (arrogant). Once I asked a man who was sitting on a women’s seat whether I could sit, as I was unwell. He ignored me. So I asserted myself. But a woman behind me started scolding me. She called me an ahankari. More than the man’s behaviour, her comments affected me. I feel, generally, women tend to be more vocal in judgement.”
Prejudice is nothing new to her, Kavitha adds. “My relatives used to comment about my skin, that continued in school too. I was the only dark-skinned woman in my family,” she says. “Now, however, the issue is my dressing style.” Kavitha, too, has noted dark skin being hypersexualised. “Especially if we wear modern clothes or make-up,” she says.
‘Cinema can do a lot’
Black and dark shades have always been associated with villainy, says filmmaker Jeo Baby. “If you follow, you can clearly see a pattern – the villain is a dark guy, the hero is fair, and the villain’s dress and surroundings, too, would be dark. That reflects in society,” adds the director of The Great Indian Kitchen.
He adds Malayali’s treatment of migrant labourers from states like West Bengal and Assam, proves the intolerance in society. “In public transport, people look at them differently. No one will sit near them. We know how badly treated Tamil labourers were and what we used to call them,” he says. “Racism is a global talking point. Black people have made it big in western cinema, but here we falter.”
Jeo says films can do a lot to “reverse the culture of colourism”. Filmmakers, he adds, should take steps consciously, not as a publicity move. “In my recent film Sreedhanya Catering Service, Sumesh Moor (of Kala fame) plays a normal character. He is someone who could be judged in our society based on skin or hair. But, in the movie, there is no stereotyping,” Jeo says.
“The fact that I am commenting on it actually diminishes the purpose. This should be normal. People with dark skin should not be deemed aggressive or violent as the stereotype goes. Visual media can play an important role in breaking that.”