On August 16, 2025, the Prime Minister of India announced a year-long series of events to honor the 200th birth anniversary of Mahatma Jyotiba Phule, a visionary whose life’s work continues to shape the conversation around caste and social justice in India. The announcement, reported by HT, comes at a time when the country is again grappling with the realities of caste discrimination—an issue brought into sharp relief by contemporary art and cinema, including the recent release of "Dhadak 2."
For many, the legacy of Phule is not merely a chapter in history books but a living, breathing challenge to the status quo. Born on April 11, 1827, in Satara (now part of Maharashtra), Jyotirao Govindrao Phule emerged from the Mali caste—classified as Shudra and traditionally engaged in farming. Despite formidable social barriers, Phule received an early education and, over time, absorbed reformist and revolutionary ideas that would define his life’s mission.
Phule’s contributions were as bold as they were ahead of their time. In 1848, he and his wife, Savitribai Phule, opened India’s first school for girls in Pune. Not only did he educate Savitribai—who became the country’s first female teacher—but he also championed universal education as the essential tool for empowerment. Phule’s work in advancing women’s rights and fighting for gender equality was nothing short of revolutionary in a society deeply entrenched in patriarchal and casteist norms.
But Phule’s fight was never limited to gender. He was a relentless advocate for caste equality. In 1873, he founded the Satyashodhak Samaj, or the Society of Truth Seekers, to promote social justice, challenge Brahmanical dominance, and unite oppressed communities. He made a powerful statement by opening his own well to all castes—a radical act of social inclusivity at a time when untouchability was the order of the day. His opposition to child marriage, support for widow remarriage, and the establishment of shelters for widows and orphans further cemented his role as a champion for the marginalized.
Phule’s written work was equally influential. In his 1873 book Gulamgiri (Slavery), he drew provocative parallels between caste oppression in India and racial slavery in America. According to HT, this literature did more than just document injustice—it inspired generations of reformers, including B.R. Ambedkar, and fueled a succession of anti-caste and social justice movements across the subcontinent.
Fast forward to the present, and the echoes of Phule’s legacy are unmistakable in the cultural conversation. On August 15, 2025, a day before the government’s announcement, a viewer from South Kolkata attended a screening of "Dhadak 2," starring Siddhant Chaturvedi and Triptii Dimri. The film, as recounted in a personal essay, confronts the persistent and often invisible nature of casteism in modern India. The author’s reflections offer a piercing look at privilege and the ways in which caste can remain hidden from those who benefit from its structures.
The movie opens with a nearly two-minute disclaimer, but it wastes no time in exposing the brutal realities of caste prejudice. Within the first three minutes, viewers witness a food deliveryman push a young boy off a balcony—an act motivated solely by the sight of "Jai Bheem" painted on the door, a symbol of Dalit pride. This cold, casual murder sets the tone for a film that refuses to let its audience look away.
The character Shankar, played by Saurabh Sachdeva, embodies the chilling duality of caste violence. On the surface, he is seen by many as a kind-hearted man, but beneath lies a killer who commits honor killings to "cleanse" society of lower-caste individuals. The film’s narrative, as described in the essay, forces viewers to confront the learned hatred that continues to fester in Indian society—hatred that is often invisible to those who, by virtue of birth, are shielded from its effects.
Vidhi, portrayed by Triptii Dimri, is a Brahmin law student who meets Nilesh, a lower-caste student whose very existence is a fight for justice. While Vidhi’s life is untouched by caste, Nilesh’s is defined by it. Their relationship becomes a lens through which the audience sees the chasm between privilege and oppression. As the essay notes, "His caste, the very thing that shapes his life, barely registers for her. Because, like me, she’s never been affected by it."
The film does not shy away from depicting the harsh realities faced by lower-caste students. Nilesh is subjected to ragging, humiliation, and relentless discrimination from his first day at college. When fellowship funds for Dalit and lower-caste students are cut off under the pretext of "misuse," protests erupt, led by Shekhar, a friend who defends Nilesh. Shekhar’s eventual suicide—an event that echoes the real-life tragedy of Rohith Vemula in 2016—marks a turning point in the film, plunging the narrative into even darker territory.
As the story unfolds, the consequences of caste-based hatred escalate. Nilesh and Vidhi’s love leads to a plot to kill Nilesh, orchestrated by Shankar. In a dramatic climax, Shankar fails and ultimately takes his own life, a narrative choice that, as the essayist observes, may be the only way to offer a semblance of a happy ending in a world where such hatred too often prevails.
What makes "Dhadak 2" especially resonant is its insistence that casteism is not a relic of the past but a living reality. The film’s message is clear: if you haven’t faced casteism, it’s not because it’s gone—it’s because you’re privileged. The author’s own epiphany comes when asked how many lower-caste friends they have, only to realize every name on their mental list belongs to the upper caste. This moment of self-awareness is precisely what Phule sought to inspire through his life’s work—an awakening to the injustices that persist, often unnoticed, in everyday life.
As India embarks on a year of commemorating Mahatma Phule, the conversation around caste, privilege, and social justice feels more urgent than ever. Films like "Dhadak 2" and the ongoing legacy of reformers like Phule serve as reminders that the struggle for equality is far from over. The challenge now is not only to remember Phule’s achievements but to carry his vision forward—ensuring that the fight against caste discrimination and gender inequality remains at the heart of India’s progress.
The story of Phule, and the stories told by today’s artists and activists, urge us to look inward, to question the privileges we take for granted, and to recognize that the work of social reform is never truly finished.
