Telangana may not have the khap panchayats of North India, which settle caste clashes within villages, but we have seen how even a major atrocity like Nerella was hushed up and minimised.
Published Sep 20, 2025 | 11:31 AM ⚊ Updated Sep 20, 2025 | 11:31 AM
Fourteen incidents in the past eight years show how grave the situation has become.
Synopsis: The act of a person from one caste falling in love with or marrying someone from another caste has nothing to do with the honour of a family, a caste, or a community. It is simply the voluntary, loving decision of two adults. And neither chose the caste they were born into. In reality, these so-called “honour killings” are murders driven by caste prejudice, arrogance, chauvinism and discrimination. It would be false to say Telangana was free of caste inequality, but such tensions rarely escalated to massacres. The recent murders are a sign of gradual change in this direction.
In recent times, Telangana has been witnessing a disturbing rise in caste-related murders. Most of these are the result of inter-caste marriages, where young men and women—deemed to belong to a “lower caste” by others—are brutally killed by those who consider themselves “upper caste,” often the victims’ own parents or family members.
In some cases, contract killers are hired for the murders. This chain of killings, and the atmosphere of terror it creates, has driven inter-caste lovers to commit suicide, fearing that marriage would bring death upon them. Sometimes family members themselves push or threaten the youth toward suicide.
Fourteen incidents in the past eight years show how grave the situation has become:
The murders of Madhukar of Manthani (2017), Amboji Naresh of Bhongir (2017), Tummala Swati of Lingarajupalli (2017), Perumalla Pranay of Miryalguda (2018), Vijayalakshmi (2018), Sushruta–Devarsh of Ghatkesar (2019), Chinta Hemanth Kumar of Sangareddy (2020), Narayana of Sangareddy (2022), Billipuram Nagaraju of Saroor Nagar (2022), Erukala Ramakrishna Goud of Kukunurupalli (2022), Neeraj Panwar of Begum Bazar (2022), Kongara Nagamani of Ibrahimpatnam (2024), Vadlakonda Krishna (Mala Banti) of Pillalamarri (2025), and Salluri Mallesh of Jagtial (2025).
Each of them carries a tragic story. Some gained more public attention than others. Many more incidents that were never recorded or reported remain unknown. But each of these young men and women, most still in their late teens or early twenties, simply listened to their hearts. They dared to defy social restrictions.
They longed for a human bond beyond caste barriers. That made them lovable. Innocent as they were, they did not know that social injustice could be so cruel as to snatch away their lives. They had many more years ahead but were cut short by murder.
The media often describes these killings under the upside-down label of “honour killings.” The phrase emerged to create an impression that victims had tarnished their families’ “honour,” and therefore their punishment was, in a way, justified.
But the act of a person from one caste falling in love with or marrying someone from another caste has nothing to do with the honour of a family, a caste, or a community. It is simply the voluntary, loving decision of two adults. And neither chose the caste they were born into.
Because caste inequality exists, because the “upper castes” in the hierarchy look down upon the “lower castes,” because caste rules forbid inter-dining and inter-marriage between castes and even sub-castes, families from “upper castes” see their “honour” destroyed if their child loves or marries someone from a “lower caste.”
But natural male-female relationships are not determined by caste, and they do not diminish anyone’s honour. They only form a human bond. Yet, owing to the false ideologies entrenched in society, to caste prejudices, and to the belief that superiority and inferiority are determined by birth, the phrase “honour killing” has become common.
In reality, these so-called “honour killings” are murders driven by caste prejudice, arrogance, chauvinism and discrimination.
In fact, these fourteen recorded and reported killings are only a tiny fraction compared to the far greater number of threats, coercion, restrictions, pressures, and sufferings that do not end in murder or suicide.
The overwhelming majority of victims belong to Dalit communities or to the poorer sections of backward castes. The killers are usually from dominant castes, though sometimes also from backward castes that have recently gained money power. While economic status plays a part, the primary factors are caste inequality, caste elitism, and caste arrogance.
This is the outcome of religious scriptures, priests, and caste elders preaching against “caste mixing.”
Historically, Telangana society did not see this scale of caste-based discrimination and violence. Massacres such as Padirikuppam, Karamchedu, Chundur, Vempenta, and Lakshmipet took place in coastal Andhra, not on this scale in Telangana.
It would be false to say Telangana was free of caste inequality, but such tensions rarely escalated to massacres. The recent murders are a sign of gradual change in this direction. Since statehood, there have been at least half a dozen incidents of collective attacks, and every year or two, one or two “honour killings” make it into the news.
Countless unreported incidents remain. Telangana may not have the khap panchayats of North India, which settle caste clashes within villages, but we have seen how even a major atrocity like Nerella was hushed up and minimised.
Dominant castes and feudal powers in villages have not moved beyond their mindset of resentment at Dalits or the lower castes gaining education, small jobs, and self-respect enough to walk with their heads held high.
After Telangana state was formed, these dominant forces have only grown stronger. One natural outcome of Dalit and backward caste youth asserting dignity and pride has been their friendships with young women of dominant castes. These friendships, in some cases, turn into love and aspirations for marriage or cohabitation.
This is intolerable to the dominant castes, whose psyche still resists accepting the education, jobs, self-respect, and improved economic standing of the oppressed communities. As a result, these friendships and loves invariably face opposition.
Common dining appears to have lost meaning with public feasts, and hotels and restaurants mushrooming everywhere. Politicians occasionally eat in Dalit homes for exhibitionism, and newspapers carry photos.
But they still will not let Dalits enter their homes or sit with them at the dining table. Whatever leniency has come in dining, there has been no such change regarding marriage. Even though young men and women of all castes now meet in schools and colleges, build friendships, and fall in love, such relationships rarely progress to marriage.
And those few who dare to marry are greeted by murders driven by caste arrogance.
After the Karamchedu massacre, nationwide discussion on atrocities against Dalits led to the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989. That law defined “atrocity” very clearly, minutely, and strictly, and prescribed harsh punishments. Yet in the past four decades, implementation has been poor. Atrocities have not stopped; in fact, they have only risen year by year.
Nationwide, registered cases of atrocities against Dalits now number around 60,000 annually – 164 per day, six per hour. In Telangana, they number about 1,800 a year – four a day, according to National Crime Records Bureau statistics.
Whatever politicians may say in public, they remain steeped in casteist ideology that reinforces caste inequality. Social culture still leaves no real space for equality. Even if some individuals or families among the oppressed gain economic comfort, the social discrimination, humiliation, and inequality remain.
This problem, therefore, cannot be solved by a law or a political decision alone. It requires profound churn in social, cultural, and ideological spheres. Equality must be preached, spread, and practiced as a consistent effort.
But we live in times when caste identities are solidifying and deepening across society. Parliamentary politics, parliamentary institutions, and religious propaganda are tightening caste boundaries further. From Buddha, two thousand years ago, to Babasaheb Ambedkar a hundred years ago, society has nurtured progressive dreams of caste annihilation.
Yet society today is far removed from that vision, perhaps even moving backwards.
Caste, sanctioned strongly by Hindu scriptures, especially Manusmriti, remains a deeply entrenched cultural marker – an unnatural, unequal, unjust system that perpetuates discrimination, inequality, and denial of opportunities.
Only when the spirit of reform movements and struggles, which for centuries have demanded the abolition of caste, fills every heart, will this murderous, uncivilised practice of caste killings finally vanish.
(Edited by Dese Gowda)
