When A Campus Mourns: Collective Loss And leaving Inertia Behind
By Aparna Vincent & Sinjini Bhattacharya
21 January, 2015
Countercurrents.org
In the last seven years that we have spent on the University of Hyderabad Campus, we have been reluctant participants and many a time mere onlookers to many political struggles on this campus. We have consciously and unconsciously kept a careful distance from political organizations of various hues. Hence, we write not as experts who are proficient in facts or as scholars worthy of being called as activists, but as students who share the shock and grief at the sad demise of a fellow research scholar. Like many on this campus, we share a sense of shame, guilt and anger at ourselves for not having done anything to prevent it.
We have never met Rohith, never knew his name. We know him only in his death. And yet we share the pain of this collective loss. Words are all that we have at this moment to mourn his loss, and to take in the transformation of a beloved campus from an academic centre, which we naively believed promoted freedom, to a space which has time and again failed to safeguard the very freedom which is a prerequisite for any centre of learning. While the process of this transformation may have begun before, Rohith's death makes this reality an open raw wound. Because, for us this campus will never be the same again.
The events that followed Rohith's death were deeply saddening and unnerving: the shock of discovering the body of a fellow researcher; a peaceful protest to get the institutional head to come down; and students resorting to songs, as a means of protest, which filled the gloomy night. And yet, the administration felt the need to shield itself from the outpouring of grief with the help of a massive police force. After a long night of negotiations, lathis came raining down on the students, and spared none.
Rohith's body was long gone by the time we had "woken up." As we walked into Shopcom (short for Shopping Complex, an on-campus gathering place for political discussions, tea, provisions, food, and campus news) on the morning of 18th January, the scenes unfolding were quite different from those of any other day. Groups of people huddled together. Over conversations many voids were filled up. Friends narrated and discussed the events of the previous night, while policemen stood around and watched nonchalantly. Some took a stroll on the campus and others joined the students in the line for dosas and idlis at the small kiosk in Shopcom. Rapid Action Force (RAF) men stood ready to step into action at a moment's notice. Students gathered around the makeshift venue in protest, many with red, puffy eyes from crying all night. Those who knew Rohith were inconsolable. Some walked around with sprained and swollen limbs, thanks to the police and their wieldy lathis. A collective sense of loss loomed in the air.
This is not the first time police has entered this campus. In the recent past, the Kiss of Love protests on campus had also seen massive police deployment. But the need to have RAF personnel on standby and water cannons on the ready is something most of us have not been able to wrap out heads around. The fear that campus spaces are shrinking became a little more real that day.
As the morning rolled on the campus became witness to sights and sounds thus far unknown to many of us. The images of that morning will remain with us for a long time to come. Rows of daily-wage sanitation workers joined the students at Shopcom notwithstanding the fact that each day of not working is a day of lost wages. These sanitation workers are magnanimous in their support. One of them told us in a private conversation later: ":"tum hai toh hum hai…tum nahi toh hum nahi…humara kaam nahi." Her words reflect the feeling of solidarity they share.
In the same Shopping Complex Rohith's inconsolable mother mourned the loss of her dear son. She was sitting at the same spot where our fellow research scholars had built the "Dalit Ghetto" after being boycotted from social spaces on campus. When we saw Rohith's mother for the first time, she was being helped by one of the female cleaning staff and a relative to walk a few steps to the washroom. Her face will haunt us and will remind us how as a student community we failed to step up and be there for a fellow student.
Philip the dog slept peacefully through all the din, refusing to move away from the venue of protest.
A letter that Rohith wrote to the Vice Chancellor a few weeks before his death was photocopied and circulated amongst those who were assembled at Shopcom. The words in that letter reflected the anger, the isolation and the sheer helplessness of a scholar who came to the university with dreams of rising above all the obstacles that university had imposed on him. It is to his credit that even in those moments of utter dejection he showed the courage to speak not just for himself but for many like him who are let down by our institutions time and again.
Photos of Rohith were circulated both online and offline. Rohith’s friends shared his Facebook album which contained pictures of his one-room house. Others shared personal anecdotes about him, stories of time spent together, words exchanged, of shared joys and sorrows, of angst at the system and of the hope for a brighter tomorrow. One of Rohith’s friends shared this memory on his Facebook wall
I remember the time Rohith shared the picture of his house and the sewing machine used by his mom. I was happy, sad and angry. Happy for him, who defied all odds. Sad about the apathy the society has and angry about the bloody caste system. When we spoke next time, I could not speak anything, except that I was honoured to have him as my friend. I was struggling for words, and he consoled me.
These words bring out the magnitude of loss and the angst at a system which did not deliver justice in spite of the struggle. He further expressed his emotions in a poem that he wrote in Rohith's memory.
My brother, I have no more tears to shed,
Only the anger remains
Something that will remain with me for the rest of my life
Definitely, there shall be a reckoning
May not today
But someday
Definitely, there shall be a reckoning.[i]
These images and stories made him all the more real, and his struggle and determination something to be looked upto with respect.
Soon Rohith's death had transcended the boundary walls of our campus and was no longer an isolated struggle. As news spread other campuses around the country also joined in solidarity with the protesting students at the University of Hyderabad. Scores of articles were posted online and suddenly University of Hyderabad was trending on Facebook. Opinions were expressed and analysis drawn out. Going through the different points of view expressed both in the online and offline platforms was both heartening and saddening at the same time. It reiterated the fact that we had woken up, but a little too late.
By mid-morning of 18th January, media had descended on campus. First it was the local channels and then came the national ones. Soon, OB vans were all around, and cameramen and journalists were trying to talk to students and public gathered in different venues of protest on campus. We had made national news, albeit for all the wrong reasons. In the cacophony of voices one could hear journalists mechanically deliver news to their bosses sitting in newsrooms: "The mother is crying". Some of us couldn't help but wonder if all this media attention would in the end be detrimental to the cause in itself. The wariness towards the media was also evident when constant announcements were made on behalf of Rohit's family who didn't want to speak to the media. Ironically, the media is also the only way to reach out to the world at large and keep Rohith's cause alive. The media has since then camped on campus. Although we know that they will move on to bigger news in a few days one can only be hopeful that the plight of students here would have reached a few more by then.
The University of Hyderabad Teachers Association (UHTA) has shown their solidarity with the student's cause on various occasions. This time was no different. It was heartening to see teachers come forward and join the rallies with students. In a scenario where the administration has turned its back on the agitating students the reassuring presence of the faculty and words of solidarity from them makes us believe that voices of dissent should be raised again and again.
The political parties were also on campus almost as soon as the news broke out in the media. Local politicians came and promised to speak to higher party officials and support the student's cause for getting justice. By Tuesday morning some big political names were en route to our campus. Over the last two days of protest political leaders came, met protesting students and shared words of solidarity. Shopcom, the daily meeting point of students on campus– was suddenly cordoned off. Among the bevy of security personnel, RAF and police the sense of insecurity increased for many campus residents. The approach to Shopcom at a point of time was blocked with swanky SUVs and our spaces were no longer the way we remembered them, and no longer ours. Through all this the student community tried to hold on to its cause. The Joint Action Committee kept on reminding everyone, politicians and students alike, that "the struggle is ours". While all are welcome in solidarity, the movement began, and shall remain, that of students.
In the last two days of protest, students have walked the length and breadth of campus in rallies agitating against a callous and apathetic administration. Slogans filled the campus air even as the police and RAF stood guard.
“Rohith tere Sapnon ko
Hum Manzil tak Pahunchayenge”"Rohith Hum Sharminda Hai
Tera Katil Zinda Hai""Jai, Jai, Jai, Jai Bhim,
Phule, Ambedkar, Kanshiram""Johar Rohith Vemmula"
"Rohith Vemmula Lal Salaam"
"Rohith Vemmula Neel Salaam""Tum Ek Rohith Maroge..
Har Ghar Se Rohith Niklega"
These slogans are reflective of a wide range of emotions the student community has experienced in the hours that followed Rohith’s death. Along with invoking Rohith’s memory and saluting his sacrifice, these slogans bring out the sense of shame, guilt and dejection that each of us in this campus community experiences in not having been able to prevent such an incident. They also remind us of the fight that still remains to be fought for the marginalized and unheard voices amongst us. The energy that they disseminate gives us a ray of hope , while reminding us that there is still a long way to go.
In the seven years we have spent in the University of Hyderabad, this campus has been witness to many protests and agitations. What made the events of last two days unique for us was a sense of common loss which loomed on all our minds and the way in which a large section of the campus community came together forgetting their immediate differences.
Over the last two days, common themes in all our conversations have been the sense of loss, pain and utter hopelessness. Rohith's death and the events thereafter changed us and the way we look at our campus for good. Even as we type these words down the struggle continues at shop com with a feeble hope for justice. University of Hyderabad is still trending on national media and other social networking sites. Words of consolation and words of solidarity continues to pour in. More big names promise to visit campus. However, justice still eludes Rohith and everyone associated with him on this campus. What awaits the future of this campus, only time can tell. It has become obvious , to all of us who live in this space, that there is an urgent need to fight wherever and whenever justice is at stake.
Aparna Vincent is a Ph.D Scholar in the Department of Political Science, University of Hyderabad. Her current research is on Rhetoric and Symbolism in Protest Politics.
Sinjini Bhattacharya is a Ph.D Scholar in the Department of Political Science, University of Hyderabad. Her areas of interest include Religious Politics in India, Peace and Conflict Studies and Conflict Transformation.