Abro

    The crucial question is not why some people become killers, but why, under certain conditions, killing becomes ordinary. — Christopher R. Browning, Ordinary Men (1992)     The Familiar Face of Violence Imagine, for a moment, a village. It does not matter which village — in the Punjab of 1947 or the fields of East Pakistan in 1971, the contours are remarkably similar. There is a well at the center, shared by all. There are fields that flood together and drought together. There are marriages across lanes, loans repaid over seasons, and feuds resolved over shared plates of food. The village is, in anthropological terms, what Victor Turner called a communitas — a structure of mutual obligation, identity, and reciprocity that gives human life its texture and meaning. Now imagine that within seventy-two hours, that same village is on fire. The same hands that drew water from the shared well are now drawing blood. The same men who at...

  Hello and welcome! Today, we are going to explore a story that sits at the complex intersection of history, oppression, gender, and deep political memory in South India. I’m talking about Travancore—a kingdom in present-day Kerala that, just two centuries ago, was one of the hierarchical caste societies in South Asia. But we are not here to talk about just any tax, administrative record, or royal decree. We are here to talk about something popularly and chillingly known as the Mulakkaram . In the Malayalam language, mulakkaram translates literally as the "breast tax". Just let that name sink in for a moment. A tax on a part of the human body, specifically the female body, was used to enforce caste distinctions. It sounds like a terrible, almost unbelievable myth, but it's a profound narrative that has shaped collective memory and resistance. Tonight, we will dive into the debate: What was the mulakkaram ? Was it a fiscal policy, a symbol of oppression, or bot...