Divyansh Kabeer | 25th September 2025
At 5 a.m., before most of Delhi wakes up, Munni ties her faded dupatta around her waist and steps out of her one-room rented space in a crowded juggi. With a steel tiffin in one hand and a cloth bag in the other, she walks briskly through narrow lanes toward the colony where she works as a househelp. By the time the city stirs, Munni has already swept, mopped, and scrubbed three households spotlessly.
Her day begins with cleaning, cooking, and washing—but her work is not the hardest part of her life. What hurts more are the invisible walls of caste that follow her into every household she enters.
A Life in the Shadows
Munni is in her late twenties. She migrated to Delhi from a small village in Uttar Pradesh nearly 15 years ago, after her husband lost his job at a factory. With two children to raise and bills to pay, she took up work as a domestic help in the city. Today, she manages chores in five households spread across the neighborhood, earning just enough to pay rent and school fees.
Her community belongs to a Scheduled Caste. In the village, she says, discrimination was open—she was not allowed to enter temples or draw water from the same well. Moving to the city gave her some hope that life would be different. “Sheher mein sab ek saath rehte hain,” she recalls thinking. But what she faces now is more subtle—quiet, hidden, and yet deeply hurtful.
The Glass That Separates
In one of the homes where Munni has worked for over a decade, she is not allowed to drink from the family’s glasses. Her tea is always poured into a separate steel tumbler kept aside for her. “Madam kehti hain, ‘Munni, yeh glass alag rakha karo tumhare liye.’ Wo kehti hain to saamanya baat lagti hai, par dil ke andar lagta hai… main alag kyon hoon?” she says softly.
In another house, the family insists she sit on the floor while folding clothes or sorting vegetables. “Kursi to khaali padi hoti hai, par mujhe kabhi baithne ko nahi kehte,” she shares. To outsiders, these may appear as harmless practices, but for Munni, they are daily reminders of where society places her.
She has never raised her voice against these indignities. “Agar maine kuch kaha, to naukri chali jaayegi. Rozgaar se bada kuch nahi,” she explains. Silence, for her, is survival.
Discrimination in Plain Sight
What makes caste discrimination in cities particularly dangerous is its invisibility. Unlike the violent exclusion often reported from rural India, urban casteism is normalized—hidden in gestures, customs, and everyday interactions.
Sociologists describe it as “structural discrimination”—the kind that doesn’t always scream, but quietly defines who is offered respect and who isn’t. For many employers, these are habits inherited from families, never consciously questioned. But for Munni, each act chips away at her dignity.
A neighbor once asked her why she still tolerates such treatment. Munni replied, “Zindagi bhar sehna hi pada hai. Ab aadat ban gayi hai.”
The Children She Dreams For
Despite the discrimination, Munni’s biggest hope lies in her children. Her son studies in a government school, and her daughter, the brighter of the two, dreams of becoming a teacher. Munni saves every extra rupee to keep them in school.
“Main chahti hoon meri beti ko koi alag glass mein paani na de. Usko izzat se dekhenge,” she says firmly, her tired eyes lighting up for a brief moment.
To her, education is not just about literacy—it is about breaking the cycle of caste prejudice. “Agar bacche padh likh jaayenge to unhe yeh sab jhelna nahi padega,” she adds.
Why Munni’s Story Matters
Munni’s story is not unique. Thousands of domestic workers across Indian cities—many from Dalit and marginalized communities—navigate similar realities. They are the invisible backbone of urban households, yet are often treated as less than equal.
While discussions on caste usually focus on rural India, Munni’s experience shows that discrimination is alive in cities too. It may not always be violent, but its subtlety makes it harder to challenge. Most employers deny that they discriminate at all. To them, it is “normal” to keep a separate glass or to ask workers to sit on the floor.
But what is normal for one is humiliating for another.
Resilience Amidst Injustice
Every evening, Munni returns home exhausted but determined. She cooks for her family, helps her children with homework, and prepares for another long day. In her silence, there is resilience. In her routine, there is resistance.
She doesn’t see herself as a victim but as a mother fighting for a future where her children will be judged not by their caste, but by their abilities.
As she says, “Main chahti hoon mere bacchon ko koi ‘chhota bada’ na kahe. Bas insaan samjhe.”
A Story of Hope
The invisible walls of caste still surround Munni, but she pushes against them daily with her quiet persistence. Her story is not just about discrimination—it is also about dignity, survival, and the belief that change is possible.
When we drink from the same glass, sit on the same chair, or share the same meal without hesitation, we do more than erase centuries of prejudice—we give people like Munni what they deserve most: respect.
Her life is a reminder that true progress is not measured only in skyscrapers and metros, but in how we treat those who clean our homes, cook our meals, and raise our children alongside us.
Caste discrimination is still a major challenge in India, even though our Constitution clearly promises equality, justice, and dignity to everyone. Many people from marginalized communities continue to face unfair treatment in education, politics, and daily life. This is where the media has an important role to play—not just in reporting news but also in speaking up for what is right. By telling real stories, amplifying voices that are often ignored, and reminding society about constitutional rights, the media can push for real change.
Discrimination is not only a social wrong but also a violation of the values enshrined in our Constitution. The solution lies in creating inclusive narratives, spreading awareness about rights, and giving equal space to all communities. If the media, government, and people work together, India can truly become a place where constitutional promises are not just written in law but lived in everyday life.
Divyansh Kabeer is a Delhi-based writer who focuses on social justice, caste, and urban inequality. Through human-centered narratives, he highlights the invisible struggles of marginalized communities and their fight for dignity.
