When Ambedkar went to Koregaon at the age of nine, he faced caste discrimination.

In his book ‘Waiting for a Visa’, Bhimrao Ambedkar has discussed in detail the bitter experience of untouchability during his visit to Koregaon in 1901. Our family is originally a resident of Dapoli taluka located in Ratnagiri district of Bombay Presidency. With the beginning of the rule of the East India Company, my ancestors left their hereditary profession and joined the company’s army. My father also joined the army as per the family tradition. He reached the rank of officer and retired as Subedar. After retirement, my father went to Dapoli with his family to settle there again. But due to some reasons he changed his mind. The family moved from Dapoli to Satara, where we lived till 1904.

According to my memory, the first incident happened in 1901, when we lived in Satara. My mother had died. My father was working as a cashier in Koregaon of Khatav taluk in Satara district, where the Bombay government was digging ponds to provide employment to famine-stricken farmers. Thousands of people had died due to famine.

When my father went to Koregaon, he left me, my elder brother and my elder sister’s two sons (the sister had died) in the care of my aunt and some kind-hearted neighbours. My aunt was very good but could not help us much. She was a little short and had problems in her legs, due to which she could not walk without support. Often they had to be lifted and carried. My sisters were also there. She was married and lived at some distance with her family.

Cooking was a problem for us. Especially because our aunt was unable to work due to physical disability. We four children used to go to school and also cook food. But we could not make roti, so we had to make do with pulao. It was the easiest to make because nothing more than mixing rice and meat was required.

My father was a cashier so it was not possible for him to come from Satara to see us. That’s why he wrote a letter asking us to come to Koregaon during summer holidays. We children got very excited just thinking about this, because till then none of us had seen a train.

Heavy preparations took place. New English style kurtas, colorful carved caps, new shoes and new silk bordered dhoti were purchased for the journey. My father had written down the complete details of the journey and asked me to send it in writing as to when we would leave so that he could send his peon to the railway station who would take us to Koregaon.

With this arrangement, I, my brother and my sister’s son left for Satara. Kaki was left with the help of neighbors who had promised to take care of her.

The railway station was ten miles away from our house, so a tanga was arranged to reach the station. We wore new clothes and left the house dancing with joy, but aunty could not control her sadness at our departure and started crying loudly.

When we reached the station, my brother brought the ticket and gave me and my sister’s son two annas each to spend on the way. We immediately splurged and first bought a bottle of lemon water. After some time the train whistled and we boarded it quickly so that we would not be left behind. We were told to get down at Masur, which is the nearest station to Koregaon.

The train reached Masur at five in the evening and we got down with our luggage. Within a few minutes, everyone who got off the train went towards their destination. We four children survived on the platform. We were waiting for our father or his peon. Even after a long time no one came.

As the hour passed, the station master came to us. He looked at our tickets and asked why you guys were staying. We told them that we had to go to Koregaon and we were waiting for our father or his peon. We don’t know how to reach Koregaon.

We were wearing good clothes and even from our conversation no one could guess that we were children of untouchables. That’s why the station master was convinced that we were children of Brahmins. He was very saddened by our problem.

But as usually happens among Hindus, the station master asked who we were. Without thinking anything, I immediately said that we are Mahars (Mahars are considered untouchable in Bombay Presidency). He was stunned. Suddenly his facial expressions started changing.

We could clearly see the feeling of disgust on his face. He immediately went towards his room and we stood there. Twenty-twenty-five minutes passed, the sun was about to set. We were shocked and troubled. Our happiness at the beginning of the journey had evaporated. We became sad. After about half an hour the station master returned and asked us what we all wanted to do. We said that if we could find a bullock cart on rent, we would go to Koregaon, and if it was not very far, we could also go on foot.

There were many bullock carts available for hire but my calling the station master as ‘Mahar’ was heard by the cart drivers and no one was ready to get impure by taking an untouchable. We were ready to pay double the fare but even the lure of money was not working.

The station master who was talking on our behalf was not able to understand what to do. Suddenly something came to his mind and he asked us, ‘Can you guys drive the car?’ We immediately said, ‘Yes, we can drive’. Hearing this he went to the drivers and told them that you will get double the fare. And he will drive the car himself. The driver himself kept walking with the vehicle. A cart driver agreed. He was getting double the rent and would also be saved from being defiled.

We got ready to leave at around 6.30 pm. But our concern was to leave the station only after being assured that we would reach Koregaon before dark. We asked the driver how far away Koregaon was and how long it would take to reach there. He told us that it would not take more than three hours. Believing what he said, we kept our luggage on the train and after thanking the station master, boarded the train. One of us took charge of the car and we set off. The carriage driver was walking nearby.

There was a river at some distance from the station. Completely dry, there were small puddles of water here and there. The driver said that we should stop here and eat food, otherwise we will not get water anywhere on the way. We agreed. He asked for a part of the fare so that he could go to the neighboring village and have food. My brother gave him some money and he left promising to come back soon.

Victory Pillar built in Bhima-Koregaon. The East India Company had registered victory over Peshwa Bajirao II in the battle of Bhima-Koregaon. In memory of this, the company had built the Vijay Stambh, which became a symbol of Dalits. Some thinkers and thinkers see this battle as the victory of the backward castes over the upper castes of that time. every

We were hungry. Aunty had the neighboring women prepare some good food for us on the way. We opened the tiffin box and started eating.

Now we needed water. One of us went towards the water hole near the river. But the smell of cow dung and urine was coming from it. Without water, we closed the tiffin after eating only half our stomach and started waiting for the driver. He did not come for a long time. We were looking around for him.

Finally he came and we moved ahead. We must have gone four-five miles when suddenly the driver jumped into the car and started driving. We were surprised that this was the same man who was not sitting in the car due to fear of being impure but we could not muster the courage to ask him anything. We just wanted to reach Koregaon as soon as possible.

But soon it became dark. The path was not visible. Neither man nor animal was visible. We got scared. It had been more than three hours. But there was no trace of Koregaon anywhere. Then a fear arose in our minds that the driver was taking us to such a place that he would kill us and loot our belongings. We also had gold ornaments. We started asking him how far away Koregaon was. He kept saying, ‘It is not far, we will reach soon. It was ten o’clock at night. We started sobbing out of fear and cursing the driver. He did not answer.

Suddenly we saw a light burning at some distance. The driver said, ‘Look at that, it is the tax collector’s light. We will stay there at night. We felt some relief. Finally, in two hours we reached the taxman’s hut. It was situated on the other side of the hill at the foot of the hill. On reaching there we found that a large number of bullock carts were spending the night there. We were hungry and wanted to eat food but there was no water. We asked the driver if we could get water somewhere.

He warned us that the publican was a Hindu and if we told the truth that we were Mahars, we would not be able to get water. He said, ‘Say that you are a Muslim and try your luck. On his advice, I went to the tax collector’s hut and asked if I could get some water. He asked, ‘Who are you?’ I said that we are Muslims. I spoke to him in Urdu which I knew well. But this trick did not work.

He said coldly, ‘Who has kept water here for you?’ There is water on the hill, go and get it from there. I returned to the car with a sad face. When my brother heard this he said let’s go to sleep.

The oxen were untied and the cart was placed on the ground. We put a bed in the lower part of the car and somehow lay down. What was going on in my mind was that we have enough food, rats are running in our stomach due to hunger but without water we have to sleep hungry and we could not get water because we are untouchable.

I was thinking this when a doubt came in my brother’s mind. He said that we should not sleep together, anything can happen, so at a time two people will sleep and two people will be awake. This is how we spent the night under the hill.

At five in the morning the driver came and said that we should leave for Koregaon. We refused and asked him to leave at eight o’clock. We did not want to take any risk. He didn’t say anything.

Finally we left at eight o’clock and reached Koregaon at 11 o’clock. My father was surprised to see us. He told that he had not received any information about our arrival. We said that we had sent the letter. Later it came to light that my father’s servant had received the letter but forgot to give it to him.

This incident has great importance in my life. I was nine years old then. This incident left an indelible impression on my mind. Even before this I knew that I was an untouchable and that untouchables have to endure some insults and discrimination. For example, in school I could not sit with my peers. I had to sit alone in a corner. I also knew that I kept a sack for me to sit on and the school cleaning servant did not touch that sack because I am untouchable. I used to take the sack home every day and bring it back the next day.

I also knew in school that when upper caste boys felt thirsty, they would ask the master to go to the tap and quench their thirst. But my point was different. I couldn’t touch the tap. Therefore, it was necessary to have a peon after the permission of the master. If there was no peon, I would have had to remain thirsty.

My sister used to wash clothes at home too. It was not that there were no washermen in Satara. There was no such thing that we did not have money to pay the washerman. Our sister had to wash clothes because no washerman would wash the clothes of us untouchables. My elder sister also used to cut our hair because no barber would cut the hair of us untouchables.

I knew all this. But that incident gave me a shock that I had never felt before. That’s when I started thinking about untouchability. Before that incident, everything was normal for me, as it usually happens with upper caste Hindus and untouchables.

Courtesy: Hindi News