“In death, there is peace; there is terror only in fear of death.”
This quote crossed my mind when Sathya explained how people generally associate graveyards with negativity. Yet for her and her family, the graveyard is a place of peace, their entire world.
“If we have to clear our heads, we sit here on the gravestone,” Sathya said.
Sathya is the daughter of Sowri Raj, a member of the graveyard community in Kalpalli, Bengaluru. Her father works as a gravedigger, and she handles documentation in the office at the graveyard. She was the first person I met from the community.
Upon entering the graveyard, the first thing I noticed was an ongoing cremation. Although I had expected it, I was still astonished to watch it unfold. What struck me next was how casually people and animals sat on gravestones. Children played nearby as if it were a park. It felt unfamiliar to me as I had always associated graveyards with sadness and grief.
When I asked Sathya about the experiences of children in the community and their aspirations, she recalled an incident involving a boy F. A teacher had asked the students what they wanted to become when they grew up. When F stood up enthusiastically to answer, the teacher cut him off, saying, “Oh, all you’re going to do in life is dig holes. Sit down.” Sathya said she noticed a clear decline in his morale afterward. “The label stays with us no matter where we go,” she commented. Despite attending school, the children are often led to believe that gravedigging is their only possible future. Sathya believes the children’s futures largely depend on how society views and supports them.
I later had the opportunity to meet some of the children in the community. They appeared both carefree and enthusiastic. Though initially shy, they enjoyed playing together and gradually opened up.
I asked them whether they had faced any discrimination from friends or at school. One boy, K, shared that while his friends treated him normally, a teacher once asked whether he participated in “saavu kuthu” during funerals — a traditional dance performed in southern India during death rituals. Such a comment is not only inappropriate but also deeply insensitive, stereotypical, and ignorant. A girl, J, mentioned that she sometimes felt that her classmates looked down on her because of her family’s occupation.
Sathya believes children are like wet cement. They take the shape of whatever is pressed into them.
When children are repeatedly subjected to discrimination in spaces that are supposed to promote equality, it becomes difficult for them to strive for more.
She also noted that, due to their circumstances and negative experiences, many children are not hopeful about careers beyond gravedigging. Some even question the value of education. Parents often have to push their children to attend school, hoping that education will offer them a better life. Fortunately, some parents are very supportive and believe their children can accomplish anything they set their minds to.
Despite attending the same schools as other children in the city, these children often feel excluded from what is considered “mainstream” society. J spoke about a program led by Samuel Gladson, a former assistant professor at SJCC, and Gleeda D’Silva, which significantly boosted the children's interest in academics. Before this program, they seemed to lack the support and encouragement others received. They said Gladson and Gleeda felt like older siblings, and the tutoring sessions were not just educational but something they genuinely looked forward to.
Even though many of the children have experienced discrimination, they are not entirely afraid to dream. K, for example, wants to be a football player. J, a 16-year-old girl, aspires to become an IAS officer. While challenges persist, the children remain enthusiastic and make time to enjoy life. Meeting them was the most heartwarming and hopeful part of this project.
Sathya also recounted an incident from the COVID-19 pandemic. During that time, many graveyards refused to accept bodies of those who had died from COVID due to fear of infection. Her father, Sowri, however, stepped forward and accepted several of these bodies for burial. This act marked the beginning of a quiet but powerful call for humanity. Despite his desire for a better future for his children and his efforts to educate them, he deeply respected his own profession. He believed that not everyone could do what he did and was willing to risk his life because, in his words, it would be inhumane and unfair to deny people dignity in their final moments.
“As humans, we are all equal in the presence of death.”
This thought echoed in my mind during our conversation. Status, wealth, and social standing only matter while we are alive. These individuals are the ones who ensure we are laid to rest peacefully, regardless of caste, religion, or color, yet they are the ones society chooses to marginalize. Despite being subjected to discrimination, it’s clear that gravediggers embody a profound form of humanity.
While working on this project, I noticed that many articles about this graveyard focused solely on alleged paranormal activities. When I brought this up with Sathya, she laughed and said she had never experienced anything like that. J had a similar reaction and even said she would find such an encounter amusing. K admitted he hadn’t seen anything either, although he was scared of ghosts.
What struck me was how this space was largely represented in commercial or sensational terms, while the actual lives lived here were completely ignored. That realization stayed with me.
Curious about how daily exposure to death affected them emotionally, I asked Sathya about it. She said that, at times, when families weep, the children weep with them. “No matter how many deaths you witness, you never really get used to it,” she said. The children agreed that although they had grown up around death and it didn’t trouble them daily, there were still moments that brought them to tears.
Though the children may not always recognize the caste- and class-based prejudices they face, adults like Sathya are constantly fighting against these injustices. Despite these challenges, the children see a world full of possibilities. Their joy brings light to the community, and their stories helped me better understand their lives. This experience educated me, warmed my heart, and made me re-examine my own beliefs. Though we may not live in an ideal world, it’s important to dream of one — just as these children do — and to work toward making it a reality.
Written by
N R Muthu Meena.
