This is an archive article published on December 12, 2022
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Janaki Nair writes: The Bengaluru Mahaparinirvana rally marks new beginning for Dalit sangharsh

The rally came as a refreshing pushback from regions, such as the northern districts of Raichur, Gulbarga, Bidar, where caste atrocities are routine but unreported, as well as Bengaluru and Kolar, closer to the newsrooms and channels.

The rally centered around the legacies of Karnataka’s vibrant cultural politics and honoured the legacies of Ambedkar, and the vision enshrined in the Constitution. (Representational Pic/Express Archive)The rally centered around the legacies of Karnataka’s vibrant cultural politics and honoured the legacies of Ambedkar, and the vision enshrined in the Constitution. (Representational Pic/Express Archive)
Written by: Janaki Nair
5 min readDec 12, 2022 02:46 PM IST First published on: Dec 12, 2022 at 07:26 AM IST

When Kannada’s bandaya (revolutionary) poet Siddalingaiah came alive again on December 6, it was in the song he had immortalised for decades, and without which no protest meet or gathering was complete. Those voices fell silent in the early 1990s, as the Dalit Sangharsh Samiti (DSS), one of the most influential political movements in Karnataka since the 1970s, succumbed to the allure of electoral politics. As Kotiganahalli Ramaiah had it, the DSS was his “first real school” though it ceased to be when the compromises began.

Yet when the powerful voice of Janni (Janardhan, member of the legendary drama troupe Samudaya) soared above the sea of blue in the National College grounds of Bengaluru on December 6, it was nothing less than an urgent call to reunite against the forces that appeared to threaten every aspect of Dalit being — whether it be the memory of Dalit cultural politics or the political and economic gains made by Dalits in Karnataka. Siddalingaiah’s song “Nenne Dina, Nanna Jana” (translated by Madhav Ajjampur) goes: “They are my people — who raise the roofs — who build the towers/ only to then be caught beneath;/ who haunt the streets — who make no noise/ before they cry themselves to sleep/ They are my people — who pay the leech —who fired by a speech/ catch flame and burn and turn to ash/ who stitch the boots; who fix the shoes/ of those who take god’s name and eat.”

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