<p>Chennai: Kavin Selvaganesh, a talented 27-year-old Dalit software engineer with a promising career and a well-paying job, seemed to have a bright future ahead. On the evening of July 27, the streets of Tirunelveli, Tamil Nadu, witnessed a brutal crime that shattered that promise. </p>.<p>The perpetrator was S Surjith, the brother of Kavin’s longtime girlfriend, Subhashini. Though Kavin and Subhashini’s relationship was not new and had begun in school, enduring through college and work, there was relentless opposition from Subhashini’s family. </p>.<p>From the influential Maravar community, her family’s fierce rejection of Kavin was rooted in caste prejudice, which eventually led to the horrific act of violence. </p>.<p>What added a complex layer to the crime was that Subhashini’s parents, Saravanan and Krishnakumari, were sub-inspectors of police at the time. Both were suspended following the murder, and Saravanan is currently in judicial custody along with <br>his son.</p>.<p>A month later, on August 29, in a village in Kalaburagi district, Karnataka, scores of villagers somberly attended the last rites of 18-year-old Kavitha. She was suspected of having died by suicide after consuming pesticides. </p>.<p>However, it later came to light that she was murdered by her father, Shankar Kolkur, a Lingayat, because she had fallen in love with 21-year-old Malappa Poojari from the Kuruba community.</p>.<p>Shankar, with the help of two of his relatives, first smothered Kavitha to death and then poured pesticide into her mouth to present it as a suicide.</p>.DMK allies push for special law against honour killing after Dalit youth's death in Tamil Nadu.<p>The father justified his actions, claiming that by attempting to marry a Kuruba boy, his daughter had tarnished the family’s reputation.</p>.<p>At the heart of both killings is the persistence of caste hierarchy and misplaced notions of honour bound to it, reinforced by traditional rivalries between communities. The irony is stark: Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, lands of reformers like Basavanna and EVR Periyar, who challenged caste discrimination, still see lives lost for love.</p>.<p>In Tamil Nadu, as many as 66 people have fallen victim to killings in the name of honour between 2016 and 2025, according to Evidence, an NGO that documents such crimes.</p>.<p>However, data shared by the government in Parliament in 2023 says only three ‘honour’ killings have been recorded in the state between 2017 and 2021, in the state, highlighting how only a fraction of such killings come to light.</p>.<p>This phenomenon applies to the whole country — among the reported cases, Uttar Pradesh tops the list by accounting for 30% of total ‘honour’ killings in India during the above period. In Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, ‘honour’ killings transcend traditional caste hierarchies, with violence occurring across different caste combinations. </p>.<p>Kerala, another state where anti-caste movements have been strong, also continues to report ‘honour’ killings, underlining the fact that education and development do not necessarily prevent crimes. </p>.<p>Though South India boasts of much better social indicators than the rest of the country, such crimes have persisted in the name of reclaiming the honour of a family or caste.</p>.<p>The reaction is particularly violent when the boy is a Dalit or from an oppressed community. </p>.<p>‘Honour’ killings are not restricted to inter-caste or inter-religious marriages. They also occur when both individuals belong to the same caste; in this case, the reason for the murder is economic factors. </p>.<p><strong>Changing nature</strong></p>.<p>Over the decades, the nature of ‘honour’ killings has also evolved, with caste organisations, often unconnected to the families involved, taking up the task of ‘reclaiming’ honour. Social media adds another dimension, in Kavin’s case, caste organisations in Tamil Nadu used social media to blame the victim and åglorify the perpetrator as a scapegoat, asserting that Surjith ‘reclaimed’ his family’s and the caste’s lost ‘honour’.</p>.<p>Activists say most ‘honour’ killings are meticulously planned, with families laying well-laid traps for couples. For instance, Kavin met Subashini on July 27 at a clinic where she worked as a Siddha consultant, at her request. Surjith, who was not to be there, took him aside ostensibly to take him to meet his parents and hacked him to death.</p>.<p>Dr Sivabalan Elangovan, a psychiatrist, explained that caste continues to shape daily lives despite education and progress, and persists because families unconsciously protect and pass on caste discipline under the guise of customs and culture.</p>.<p>“Caste offers many birth advantages. It gives someone the feeling that they already stand above someone else. This sense of superiority does not go away, and people are not prepared to lose it. That is why, at an individual level, nobody is ready to renounce caste, even if they claim they are against it,” he said.</p>.<p>Elangovan believes inter-caste marriage is perceived as the single biggest threat to the caste system, especially when it involves a privileged caste Hindu woman marrying a Dalit man.</p>.<p>“Because the family feels they can no longer face their relatives, neighbours and village peers at temples, festivals or marriages. The social shame comes not only from the marriage itself but from the imagined judgment of fellow caste members. Thus, to protect honour, families or groups may go to any extreme,” the psychiatrist added.</p>.<p>‘Honour’ killings do not happen everywhere, and their occurrence depends on how strongly the caste system is glorified in that region, the family’s support base, local caste organisations, and the temperament of family members.</p>.<p>Activist A Kathir, who runs the NGO Evidence, offers a different perspective. “Caste is not an obstacle to love, but love is an obstacle to caste. ‘Honour’ killings must be viewed intersectionally, as it is influenced by patriarchy, gender and caste. Families do not accept even if a woman falls in love with a man from the same caste. The problem there is not caste but the woman exercising her independence,” Kathir said.</p>.<p><strong>Political patronage</strong></p>.<p>Kalaburagi-based social activist Neela K views such killings as part of a design to instil fear in society.</p>.<p>“It is unfortunate that such crimes receive political patronage and appreciation from a section of society. Discrimination is not limited to any one religion or caste; it is prevalent across society, and the worst affected by this urge to protect the ‘honour’ of the family are more in socially and/or economically deprived families,” Neela told <em>DH</em>.</p>.<p>Citing media reports, writer and activist Meenakshi Bali, says the frequency of reported ‘honour’ killings in Karnataka has increased over the last two decades.</p>.<p>“Earlier, people used to disown their children for inter-caste marriage, or society used to financially or socially boycott such couples. However, now these families have been killing them to keep their reputation intact,” she said. “I fail to understand how their family’s reputation remains intact after killing their own daughters or sons,” she added.</p>.<p>Neela laid the blame on politicians, besides caste organisations and society, for encouraging and patronising divisions. “Inter-caste marriage does not help them (politicians) consolidate votes. But tacit opposition, exerting power against it, brings them community support,” she said.</p>.<p>Gowsalya Shankar, who became an activist after her husband Shankar, a Dalit, was killed for marrying her, said political parties do not speak out against ‘honour’ killings due to fear of losing caste support, but also because they are wary of dominant caste MLAs and MPs. She highlighted how Chief Minister M K Stalin, who had spoken against ‘honour’ killings while in the Opposition, has remained silent on the issue since coming to power in 2021.</p>.<p>C Lakshmanan, a retired professor at the Madras Institute of Development Studies (MIDS), believes that caste oppression against Dalit communities is sustained because economic, political, and cultural powers are concentrated among dominant OBC groups, which control land, business and education.</p>.<p>Speaking from Tamil Nadu’s perspective, Lakshmanan said the Dravidian parties still believe social justice is merely reservation, but they do not understand that the slogan has to travel beyond reservations in government jobs or educational institutions. </p>.<p>He added that caste-based murders, violence, and barbarity should not be viewed as a mere law and order problem but as a political issue.</p>.<p>Tamil Nadu has in the past witnessed a political party, Pattali Makkal Katchi (PMK), which wields considerable influence among Vanniyars, a dominant OBC community spread across north and central Tamil Nadu, openly propagating violence against Dalits for marrying girls from their caste.</p>.<p>It used the marriage of Ilavarasan, a Dalit youth, to Divya, a Vanniyar, as a pretext for the riots to consolidate all OBC parties in favour of the party and against Dalits to win the Dharmapuri Lok Sabha seat in 2014.</p>.<p>The party was the first to coin the term nadaga kadhal (staged love) in 2012, alleging that Dalit youth, dressed in flashy shirts and trousers, were luring women from other caste communities such as the Vanniyars. It also advocated for making parental consent mandatory for marriages involving individuals even above the age of 21.</p>.<p>Although inter-caste marriage is officially encouraged by every government and promoted as a way to break down social barriers, the reality often tells a different story. States like Karnataka and Tamil Nadu offer cash incentives to such couples, but caste pride continues to stand in the way of genuine acceptance. </p>.<p>Activist Neela says that growing communalism and radicalisation are deepening divisions between castes and religions. She also notes that the lack of interdependence among communities is creating a trust deficit in society, further fuelling caste-based hatred. </p>.<p>Another dimension to the killings is the fact that many intermediary castes see Dalit assertion as a major threat to their caste hierarchy. </p>.<p>“Collectively, society seems to move toward anti‑caste awareness, but individually, many still carry strong casteist anxieties. These people find validation and even reward for expressing those attitudes on anonymous platforms. That is why casteist pride is being reproduced in digital spaces,” he added.</p>.<p><strong>Legal hurdles</strong> </p>.<p>Kathir, who drafted The Freedom of Marriage and Association and Prohibition of Crimes in the Name of Honour in 2022 and submitted it to over a dozen political leaders across the country, strongly advocates for a special law that exclusively deals with ‘honour’ killings. </p>.<p>Since such killings have become institutionalised, a separate law is needed to penalise everyone who abets the crime and helps the perpetrators, he adds. He cites data – of the tens of ‘honour’ killing cases filed in Tamil Nadu, convictions have happened only in seven cases – all under the provisions of the Prevention of Atrocities (SC/ST) Act – to bolster his point why the issue should be looked beyond caste.</p>.<p>“This is a clear indicator that we need a special law. We have to bring laws according to the way crimes evolve,” he said.</p>.<p>The proposal calls for punishment of not less than five years and a fine of Rs 5 lakh for honour crimes, rigorous imprisonment for life with a fine of a minimum of Rs 10 lakh or confiscation of property of similar value for causing death. </p>.<p>Bhavani B Mohan, senior advocate, said one has to acknowledge the harsh reality that police, meant to uphold constitutional goals, are themselves divided along caste lines. He was the public prosecutor in the murder case of Gokulraj, a Dalit youth, for talking to his girlfriend, Swathi, from the Gounder caste. </p>.<p>“Despite these constitutional protections, social reality lags. Discrimination and stratification exist even within religions and castes. The obsession with maintaining marriage within one’s own caste perpetuates these structures,” he said.</p>.<p>J Sandhya, an advocate and a Kerala-based activist, opined that government statistics on ‘honour’ killings do not reflect the real picture.</p>.<p>“There are many crimes, including suicides, in which loss of ‘honour’ is a triggering factor. But the police are not required to record this as a reason,” she said.</p>.<p>She suggested that one way to resist ‘honour’ killing is to celebrate inter-caste marriages involving persons from oppressed and oppressor castes.</p>.<p>Mohan also advocated for a separate law, saying that throughout history, oppressive practices like sati or child marriage were abolished only through specific legislation, coupled with increased awareness. </p>.<p>“A special law is essential not only to safeguard Dalits but to protect the entire Indian society. Anyone who obstructs or attacks love marriages and inter-caste unions must be held accountable under a dedicated legislation,” he said. Though the necessary legal, social, and constitutional foundations are already in place, the political will and determination to enforce them are lacking, Mohan added. </p>.<p>Gowsalya says that besides a strict law, focusing on the youth and creating awareness among them is one of the measures that could help counter ‘honour’ killings. “The need of the hour is to plant seeds of equality in children from a very young age. Children and youth are our hope for change, and we should work among them,” she added. </p>.<p>(With inputs from Pavan Kumar H in Hubbali, Arjun Raghunath in Thiruvananthapuram, and S N V Sudir in Hyderabad) </p>
<p>Chennai: Kavin Selvaganesh, a talented 27-year-old Dalit software engineer with a promising career and a well-paying job, seemed to have a bright future ahead. On the evening of July 27, the streets of Tirunelveli, Tamil Nadu, witnessed a brutal crime that shattered that promise. </p>.<p>The perpetrator was S Surjith, the brother of Kavin’s longtime girlfriend, Subhashini. Though Kavin and Subhashini’s relationship was not new and had begun in school, enduring through college and work, there was relentless opposition from Subhashini’s family. </p>.<p>From the influential Maravar community, her family’s fierce rejection of Kavin was rooted in caste prejudice, which eventually led to the horrific act of violence. </p>.<p>What added a complex layer to the crime was that Subhashini’s parents, Saravanan and Krishnakumari, were sub-inspectors of police at the time. Both were suspended following the murder, and Saravanan is currently in judicial custody along with <br>his son.</p>.<p>A month later, on August 29, in a village in Kalaburagi district, Karnataka, scores of villagers somberly attended the last rites of 18-year-old Kavitha. She was suspected of having died by suicide after consuming pesticides. </p>.<p>However, it later came to light that she was murdered by her father, Shankar Kolkur, a Lingayat, because she had fallen in love with 21-year-old Malappa Poojari from the Kuruba community.</p>.<p>Shankar, with the help of two of his relatives, first smothered Kavitha to death and then poured pesticide into her mouth to present it as a suicide.</p>.DMK allies push for special law against honour killing after Dalit youth's death in Tamil Nadu.<p>The father justified his actions, claiming that by attempting to marry a Kuruba boy, his daughter had tarnished the family’s reputation.</p>.<p>At the heart of both killings is the persistence of caste hierarchy and misplaced notions of honour bound to it, reinforced by traditional rivalries between communities. The irony is stark: Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, lands of reformers like Basavanna and EVR Periyar, who challenged caste discrimination, still see lives lost for love.</p>.<p>In Tamil Nadu, as many as 66 people have fallen victim to killings in the name of honour between 2016 and 2025, according to Evidence, an NGO that documents such crimes.</p>.<p>However, data shared by the government in Parliament in 2023 says only three ‘honour’ killings have been recorded in the state between 2017 and 2021, in the state, highlighting how only a fraction of such killings come to light.</p>.<p>This phenomenon applies to the whole country — among the reported cases, Uttar Pradesh tops the list by accounting for 30% of total ‘honour’ killings in India during the above period. In Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, ‘honour’ killings transcend traditional caste hierarchies, with violence occurring across different caste combinations. </p>.<p>Kerala, another state where anti-caste movements have been strong, also continues to report ‘honour’ killings, underlining the fact that education and development do not necessarily prevent crimes. </p>.<p>Though South India boasts of much better social indicators than the rest of the country, such crimes have persisted in the name of reclaiming the honour of a family or caste.</p>.<p>The reaction is particularly violent when the boy is a Dalit or from an oppressed community. </p>.<p>‘Honour’ killings are not restricted to inter-caste or inter-religious marriages. They also occur when both individuals belong to the same caste; in this case, the reason for the murder is economic factors. </p>.<p><strong>Changing nature</strong></p>.<p>Over the decades, the nature of ‘honour’ killings has also evolved, with caste organisations, often unconnected to the families involved, taking up the task of ‘reclaiming’ honour. Social media adds another dimension, in Kavin’s case, caste organisations in Tamil Nadu used social media to blame the victim and åglorify the perpetrator as a scapegoat, asserting that Surjith ‘reclaimed’ his family’s and the caste’s lost ‘honour’.</p>.<p>Activists say most ‘honour’ killings are meticulously planned, with families laying well-laid traps for couples. For instance, Kavin met Subashini on July 27 at a clinic where she worked as a Siddha consultant, at her request. Surjith, who was not to be there, took him aside ostensibly to take him to meet his parents and hacked him to death.</p>.<p>Dr Sivabalan Elangovan, a psychiatrist, explained that caste continues to shape daily lives despite education and progress, and persists because families unconsciously protect and pass on caste discipline under the guise of customs and culture.</p>.<p>“Caste offers many birth advantages. It gives someone the feeling that they already stand above someone else. This sense of superiority does not go away, and people are not prepared to lose it. That is why, at an individual level, nobody is ready to renounce caste, even if they claim they are against it,” he said.</p>.<p>Elangovan believes inter-caste marriage is perceived as the single biggest threat to the caste system, especially when it involves a privileged caste Hindu woman marrying a Dalit man.</p>.<p>“Because the family feels they can no longer face their relatives, neighbours and village peers at temples, festivals or marriages. The social shame comes not only from the marriage itself but from the imagined judgment of fellow caste members. Thus, to protect honour, families or groups may go to any extreme,” the psychiatrist added.</p>.<p>‘Honour’ killings do not happen everywhere, and their occurrence depends on how strongly the caste system is glorified in that region, the family’s support base, local caste organisations, and the temperament of family members.</p>.<p>Activist A Kathir, who runs the NGO Evidence, offers a different perspective. “Caste is not an obstacle to love, but love is an obstacle to caste. ‘Honour’ killings must be viewed intersectionally, as it is influenced by patriarchy, gender and caste. Families do not accept even if a woman falls in love with a man from the same caste. The problem there is not caste but the woman exercising her independence,” Kathir said.</p>.<p><strong>Political patronage</strong></p>.<p>Kalaburagi-based social activist Neela K views such killings as part of a design to instil fear in society.</p>.<p>“It is unfortunate that such crimes receive political patronage and appreciation from a section of society. Discrimination is not limited to any one religion or caste; it is prevalent across society, and the worst affected by this urge to protect the ‘honour’ of the family are more in socially and/or economically deprived families,” Neela told <em>DH</em>.</p>.<p>Citing media reports, writer and activist Meenakshi Bali, says the frequency of reported ‘honour’ killings in Karnataka has increased over the last two decades.</p>.<p>“Earlier, people used to disown their children for inter-caste marriage, or society used to financially or socially boycott such couples. However, now these families have been killing them to keep their reputation intact,” she said. “I fail to understand how their family’s reputation remains intact after killing their own daughters or sons,” she added.</p>.<p>Neela laid the blame on politicians, besides caste organisations and society, for encouraging and patronising divisions. “Inter-caste marriage does not help them (politicians) consolidate votes. But tacit opposition, exerting power against it, brings them community support,” she said.</p>.<p>Gowsalya Shankar, who became an activist after her husband Shankar, a Dalit, was killed for marrying her, said political parties do not speak out against ‘honour’ killings due to fear of losing caste support, but also because they are wary of dominant caste MLAs and MPs. She highlighted how Chief Minister M K Stalin, who had spoken against ‘honour’ killings while in the Opposition, has remained silent on the issue since coming to power in 2021.</p>.<p>C Lakshmanan, a retired professor at the Madras Institute of Development Studies (MIDS), believes that caste oppression against Dalit communities is sustained because economic, political, and cultural powers are concentrated among dominant OBC groups, which control land, business and education.</p>.<p>Speaking from Tamil Nadu’s perspective, Lakshmanan said the Dravidian parties still believe social justice is merely reservation, but they do not understand that the slogan has to travel beyond reservations in government jobs or educational institutions. </p>.<p>He added that caste-based murders, violence, and barbarity should not be viewed as a mere law and order problem but as a political issue.</p>.<p>Tamil Nadu has in the past witnessed a political party, Pattali Makkal Katchi (PMK), which wields considerable influence among Vanniyars, a dominant OBC community spread across north and central Tamil Nadu, openly propagating violence against Dalits for marrying girls from their caste.</p>.<p>It used the marriage of Ilavarasan, a Dalit youth, to Divya, a Vanniyar, as a pretext for the riots to consolidate all OBC parties in favour of the party and against Dalits to win the Dharmapuri Lok Sabha seat in 2014.</p>.<p>The party was the first to coin the term nadaga kadhal (staged love) in 2012, alleging that Dalit youth, dressed in flashy shirts and trousers, were luring women from other caste communities such as the Vanniyars. It also advocated for making parental consent mandatory for marriages involving individuals even above the age of 21.</p>.<p>Although inter-caste marriage is officially encouraged by every government and promoted as a way to break down social barriers, the reality often tells a different story. States like Karnataka and Tamil Nadu offer cash incentives to such couples, but caste pride continues to stand in the way of genuine acceptance. </p>.<p>Activist Neela says that growing communalism and radicalisation are deepening divisions between castes and religions. She also notes that the lack of interdependence among communities is creating a trust deficit in society, further fuelling caste-based hatred. </p>.<p>Another dimension to the killings is the fact that many intermediary castes see Dalit assertion as a major threat to their caste hierarchy. </p>.<p>“Collectively, society seems to move toward anti‑caste awareness, but individually, many still carry strong casteist anxieties. These people find validation and even reward for expressing those attitudes on anonymous platforms. That is why casteist pride is being reproduced in digital spaces,” he added.</p>.<p><strong>Legal hurdles</strong> </p>.<p>Kathir, who drafted The Freedom of Marriage and Association and Prohibition of Crimes in the Name of Honour in 2022 and submitted it to over a dozen political leaders across the country, strongly advocates for a special law that exclusively deals with ‘honour’ killings. </p>.<p>Since such killings have become institutionalised, a separate law is needed to penalise everyone who abets the crime and helps the perpetrators, he adds. He cites data – of the tens of ‘honour’ killing cases filed in Tamil Nadu, convictions have happened only in seven cases – all under the provisions of the Prevention of Atrocities (SC/ST) Act – to bolster his point why the issue should be looked beyond caste.</p>.<p>“This is a clear indicator that we need a special law. We have to bring laws according to the way crimes evolve,” he said.</p>.<p>The proposal calls for punishment of not less than five years and a fine of Rs 5 lakh for honour crimes, rigorous imprisonment for life with a fine of a minimum of Rs 10 lakh or confiscation of property of similar value for causing death. </p>.<p>Bhavani B Mohan, senior advocate, said one has to acknowledge the harsh reality that police, meant to uphold constitutional goals, are themselves divided along caste lines. He was the public prosecutor in the murder case of Gokulraj, a Dalit youth, for talking to his girlfriend, Swathi, from the Gounder caste. </p>.<p>“Despite these constitutional protections, social reality lags. Discrimination and stratification exist even within religions and castes. The obsession with maintaining marriage within one’s own caste perpetuates these structures,” he said.</p>.<p>J Sandhya, an advocate and a Kerala-based activist, opined that government statistics on ‘honour’ killings do not reflect the real picture.</p>.<p>“There are many crimes, including suicides, in which loss of ‘honour’ is a triggering factor. But the police are not required to record this as a reason,” she said.</p>.<p>She suggested that one way to resist ‘honour’ killing is to celebrate inter-caste marriages involving persons from oppressed and oppressor castes.</p>.<p>Mohan also advocated for a separate law, saying that throughout history, oppressive practices like sati or child marriage were abolished only through specific legislation, coupled with increased awareness. </p>.<p>“A special law is essential not only to safeguard Dalits but to protect the entire Indian society. Anyone who obstructs or attacks love marriages and inter-caste unions must be held accountable under a dedicated legislation,” he said. Though the necessary legal, social, and constitutional foundations are already in place, the political will and determination to enforce them are lacking, Mohan added. </p>.<p>Gowsalya says that besides a strict law, focusing on the youth and creating awareness among them is one of the measures that could help counter ‘honour’ killings. “The need of the hour is to plant seeds of equality in children from a very young age. Children and youth are our hope for change, and we should work among them,” she added. </p>.<p>(With inputs from Pavan Kumar H in Hubbali, Arjun Raghunath in Thiruvananthapuram, and S N V Sudir in Hyderabad) </p>