When dignity of a Himachali Dalit boy is locked in a cowshed
Confronting the deity system is not about destroying tradition, but about democratising it.
IN mid-September 2025, Limbda village in Rohru subdivision of Shimla district witnessed an atrocity that breaks the myth of Himachal Pradesh being a serene, caste-free oasis among the Indian states. A 12-year-old boy from the Koli community (Scheduled Caste) was accused of "polluting" an upper-caste Rajput woman's house simply by entering it in search of someone to help in a shop. Demanding that his family offer a goat for sacrifice to purify her house, the woman locked him in a cowshed and allegedly beat him brutally. Fearing his family could not fulfil her demand, the boy escaped, but later consumed pesticide and died.
His death signals how deeply caste remains woven into the fabric of life in Himachal — even in villages where Dalits own land, where literacy is high, where human development indicators are high. The state that claims to be 'Dev bhumi' (land of gods) still shelters, nurtures and normalises untouchability, ostracisation, deifying caste rather than undermining it.
In Himachal’s social life, the local deity system is a powerful force. In so many hill villages, in old Himachal (Shimla, Kullu, Sirmaur, Mandi, Kinnaur, Lahaul-Spiti), deities are not distant statues, but living beings who speak through mediums ('Gur' or 'Agur'), issue orders and demand sacrifices or purification.
These deity institutions are administered by upper castes: temple committees, 'kardar' who manage deity property, 'deuri' as high-caste members, among others. Dalits are often confined to subsidiary roles — drummers ('bajantris'), for example, who may accompany the deity's procession but may not touch its palanquin, may not enter the temple, may have separate seating in religious or communal functions.
The deity system thus is ideological. It constructs ideas of 'dosha' (pollution) and 'punya' (purity), making one's caste a permanent signifier of one's purity or pollution.
Despite land ownership by many Dalits in Himachal, despite comparatively high literacy and other indicators, ideology often undermines material gains. Owning land does not silence caste prejudice. One's social identity, caste name and presence in ‘upper caste’ spaces are policed in ways that few legal statutes or welfare schemes touch.
By many development measures — literacy, health and per capita income — Himachal Pradesh often ranks among the better-performing states. Yet caste discrimination is still rife, structural and ideological. Schools segregate (sometimes informally), children refuse mid-day meals cooked by Dalits, Dalits are barred from temples or public water taps and seating arrangements during social functions.
Even the legal tools intended to protect Dalits often fail. The SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act may exist on paper and may have been applied after public pressure; but in the Rohru case, it was only after a public outcry and intervention by the Scheduled Caste Commission that the FIR was properly lodged under the Act.
There is also the science-belief mismatch. Himachal's ecology, fragile landscapes, climate change-vulnerable zones are increasingly witnessing disasters — landslides, flash floods, erratic weather. Climate scientists and reports (IPCC, etc.) warn that unsustainable development models, deforestation and weather extremes are causes. But in many villages, the framing is different: deities are angry, perhaps because social norms have been violated. The belief is that the gods will punish if Dalits enter temples or if the caste order is disturbed. Science gets dwarfed by belief and ideology. It is not wholly superstition — beliefs have force. But this ideological overlay can block social and environmental reform. The Rohru tragedy lays bare the following:
- A small act (entering a shop/house) is recast via caste ideology as "pollution."
- Demands for sacrificial purification (goat) merge religious belief with caste rule.
- Locking in a cowshed, threats, harassment — very physical forms of domination by upper castes.
- A sensitive child, aware of his parents' poverty, taking his own life because he fears they cannot meet the religious-caste demand.
What can be done?
Ideological critique and counter-narratives: The deity system could be reimagined. Dalit voices must be central in temple committees, administrators, and in "Gur/Agur" roles. Not merely as token musicians or sideline participants. Reinterpretation of tradition: many deities in HP are not ancient, but evolved post-7th century, associated often with erstwhile feudal lords. The narrative that relics of culture protect harmony must be challenged. Culture is living, changeable.
Grassroots social movements: Reclaiming spaces — theological, ritual, social — is necessary. Dalits refusing bias in mid-day meals, entering temples and asserting land rights are a part of this. But also non-Dalits who believe in equality must be allies. Caste Hindus must also confront the demeaning aspects of caste ideology and the harms these cause.
Institutional enforcement: The SC/ST Act must be applied proactively, not reactively. Judicial oversight, police accountability, timely FIRs, forensic evidence, and protection for complainants. State institutions must not treat caste atrocities as fringe incidents, but as urgent rights violations.
Education, sensitisation and science: Curricula and school practices must address caste openly: what it is, how it works, and why inequality persists. Science education needs to be connected to local knowledge and local change: environmental science must engage with belief systems, showing that metaphors of 'angry deities' may reflect ecological distress — but the solutions lie in systemic social equality and environmental reform, not in sacrificial rituals.
Material redistribution, but beyond assets: Ownership of land by Dalits in HP is better than in many other states, but land alone does not erase caste stigma. Redistribution of opportunity (jobs, local administration, religious offices), transparency in how temple or deity properties are managed and ensuring that Dalits get a fair shares of state benefits.
At bottom, this is about human dignity — not just rights to land, food, jobs or law, but to be present, to walk into any house, any temple, to touch any chariot, to sit where one wishes without being shamed as "polluting."
Confronting the deity system is not about destroying tradition, but about democratising tradition: ensuring that religious belief and ritual do not serve as tools of oppression. It means having conversations in hamlets, in festivals, in schools: that "gods do not discriminate", that purity is not a legitimate reason to ostracise, that caste atrocity is not a religious duty.
The Rohru tragedy is a challenge: it tells us that even a state that does well in human development metrics can fail utterly on basic human dignity. What is required is an ideological reckoning — with deities, with purity, with pollution, with the stories we tell ourselves.
If we love Himachal as a land of human beings, then the myth of peace must give way to a struggle for justice rooted in dignity. Dalits must reclaim their right to walk unafraid, cook meals, touch the sacred, enter the sacred — not as supplicants but as equals. And for that, we all must fight — Dalit and caste Hindu together — for a Himachal that is both literate and just, beautiful in its mountains and radiant in its equality.
Tikender Singh Panwar is ex-deputy Mayor, Shimla.
Unlock Exclusive Insights with The Tribune Premium
Take your experience further with Premium access.
Thought-provoking Opinions, Expert Analysis, In-depth Insights and other Member Only Benefits
Already a Member? Sign In Now