Meditations on Privilege

Being privileged in India and the many emotions around it

As an upper caste, hindu, male born in an upper class household, I won the genetic lottery and my privilege was decided at birth.

Further, being in a cis-het relationship with someone from a similar background, father earning enough for the family, I never had to worry about my family’s finances which allowed me to exercise my privilege and quit my job to figure out my path. Even when I had 1500 rupees left in my bank account, I was not poor because I had atleast 5 people in my life who could transfer any amount of money to me and that too interest free.

I was not always aware of my privilege. But ever since I realised it, a question I have struggled to answer is: What do I do with the privilege I have been bestowed upon?

One of the reasons to write this piece is to share my inarticulate, work in progress thoughts around it. Second, to hopefully hear from wiser people about their relationship with privilege.

I struggle a lot with this question. Especially in times, when being privileged allows me to save myself from the miseries of the world (which is almost everyday). Not indulging in the question brings guilt and a feeling of indifference that I am not comfortable with.

Indulging in it brings confusion. Should I not be ambitious? Should I be more ambitious and create impact for people? Should I donate money? Is it even just about money?

Because I am privileged, many of my relationships happen to be with privileged people and what I have realised is that the first step to make sense of privilege is to fully acknowledge it and accept it.

Acknowledging privilege has allowed me to empathise with the people in my life. Contrary to what it sounds like, it has in fact allowed me to step down from the societal throne of being a man, of being an upper caste and being upper class to come to a level playing field.

None of what I'm feeling here is new, Ambedkar was writing about the difference between guilt and justice a century ago, and people who've lived on the other side of my privilege have been saying it far better than I ever could, for far longer than I've been willing to listen.

It has also helped to erase the distance from people who are not like me. With the distance reduced, I meet people on the same plane they are, see people for who they are both in their identities but also beyond it.

The segregation of lifts in NCR societies between staff/service and residents is a clear display of urban casteism. Having separate utensils for the house help is another. I feel quite enraged to find uncles probably twice my age and wisdom, working as security guards and having to salute people all day. Just to remind privileged people of their glaring privilege?

Once you go out in the world with the awakening of your privileged reality, the world doesn’t look as happy and chirpy anymore. It almost feels like a sociology live class: casteism spotted here, classism spotted a few metres ahead and patriarchy spotted almost everywhere. What’s especially special about patriarchy is how present it is in all homes irrespective of privilege. That reminds me of a concept I learnt in sociology second year: women are at the risk of facing double discrimination. A poor man will often be more privileged than a poor woman. In some cases, especially in matters of safety and security a privileged woman might actually be less privileged than a poor man.

The recent protest brought out a small glimpse of clarity for me. As someone with privilege, I feel the least and the smallest action one can do is to raise their voice for what’s right, even if it doesn’t concern them, even if its uncomfortable to do so. Even if it brings discomfort in the house and within family.

To go to Jantar Mantar, I went to the protest in an AC cab, spent a few hours and went back in an AC cab to a comfortable home. For people not so privileged, the protest goes beyond showing up, it’s a matter of life and death, hunger and safety, constitutional rights and unlawful acts.

My life stuffed in privilege and a sense of utopia gets some splashes of mud and slush when I decide to get into the actual dirt of things. It’s important that I do that. For a lotus to be born, we all have to get into the mud. I don't yet know what getting into the mud looks like for someone like me, only that standing at the edge, admiring the water, is no longer an option.

For a democratic, secular country, let our fight for a better future, if not the struggle itself, be democratic and secular as well!