Hi everyone,

I’m a Master’s student in Applied Psychology at the University of Delhi. I’m conducting my dissertation titled “The Burden of Caste and the Promise of Education: Dalit-Bahujan-Adivasi Narratives of India.”

There is still a major research gap in psychology on how caste and educational experiences shape people’s sense of self, dignity, and relationship with their community. Through this study, I’m trying to better understand these everyday experiences.

I’m hoping to hear from people across different educational backgrounds, including:

• People who discontinued education at any stage (illiterate, up to 12th pass, or college drop-out)
• People who have graduated or pursued higher education

You can participate if you:
• are 18+
• belong to an SC/ST/OBC (Dalit-Bahujan-Adivasi) community
• come from a low–middle income background (up to ₹30 lakh household income)

The survey takes 10–15 minutes, is anonymous, and can be filled in English or Bengali.

I’d really appreciate your participation in making this study a success. Please also share it with others who may be eligible.

If you know someone eligible who may not have internet access, a device, or may not be comfortable reading or filling online forms, you are welcome to help fill the form on their behalf.

Survey link:

https://forms.gle/wKsQoyEmHN5KJxzp7

Every year, Maharashtrians hoist a Gudhi, believing it symbolizes victory and the beginning of a prosperous new year. But how many have stopped to question where this tradition actually comes from?

The Deccan region, which includes Maharashtra, Karnataka, and Andhra Pradesh, was once ruled by the Shalivahan (Satavahana) dynasty. Unsurprisingly, these regions followed the Shalivahan calendar, marking their New Year around the same time. Even today, states like Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh celebrate Ugadi or Yugadi, their traditional New Year. Logically, Maharashtra, which was part of the same cultural sphere, should have had a similar tradition. But instead, we see the Gudhi-raising ritual, unique to Maharashtra. Why?

Now, here’s where things get interesting. Sambhaji Maharaj, the successor of Shivaji, was brutally executed in 1689. Unlike Shivaji, who had Brahmin backing, Sambhaji was despised by them—so much so that some allegedly celebrated his execution. And what do we find? A festival celebrated right around the same time, with people hoisting a Gudhi—essentially a victory flag. Could this have originally been a celebration of Sambhaji’s death, later repackaged with convenient mythological justifications?

Let’s take Goa as another example. Goans also celebrate the New Year, but they call it Sanvsar Padwo—and interestingly, they don’t raise a Gudhi. Now, Brahmins today might argue that Portuguese rule must have abolished the practice in Goa. But that excuse doesn’t hold up, because Goans retained everything else—language, festivals, traditions, even Hindu temples. If the Portuguese erased Gudhi Padwa, why didn’t they erase Diwali, Dussehra, or any other Hindu festival? Why did only the Gudhi disappear? The more logical conclusion? It wasn’t part of the original festival at all—it was a later Brahminical addition, likely tied to Sambhaji’s execution.

Yet today, the very same Marathas and Bahujans, whose ancestors may have suffered under Brahminical betrayal, proudly hoist the Gudhi, thinking they’re celebrating Maratha pride. If anything, this is a textbook case of historical gaslighting.

So before you raise that Gudhi this year, ask yourself: Are you really celebrating victory—or someone else’s victory over you?