Sayani Rakshit

Poem and Text

Labani Jangi

Painting

large_01-Keezhvenmani-huts_ground_to_dust_and_ash-SR.jpg

medium_01-Keezhvenmani-huts_ground_to_dust_and_ash-SR.jpg

small_01-Keezhvenmani-huts_ground_to_dust_and_ash-SR.jpg

thumbnail_01-Keezhvenmani-huts_ground_to_dust_and_ash-SR.jpg

01-Keezhvenmani-huts_ground_to_dust_and_ash-SR.jpg

In the last week of December 1968 the long simmering struggle of organised labour against oppressive landlords in Keezhvenmani hamlet of Venmani village, boiled over. Dalit landless labourers of this village in Tamil Nadu’s Nagapattinam district were on strike, demanding higher wages, control over agricultural lands, and an end to feudal oppression. The landlords’ response? They burnt alive 44 Dalit labourers in the hamlet. The rich and powerful landowners, riled by a new political awakening among the Scheduled Castes, decided to not only hire other workers from neighbouring villages, but also planned a massive retaliation.On the night of December 25, the landlords surrounded and attacked the hamlet, cutting off all routes of escape. A group of 44 workers who had rushed into a hut were locked inside – before their attackers set it on fire. Fully half of those murdered – 11 girls and 11 boys – were children below the age of 16. Two were over 70 years of age. In all, 29 were female and 15 were male. All were Dalits and supporters of the Communist Party of India (Marxist).In 1975, the Madras High Court acquitted all the 25 accused in the murder case. But Mythili Sivaraman, one of the great chroniclers of this incredible atrocity, continued to write powerful and extensive analyses that not only brought the massacre to light but also its underlying issues of class and caste oppression. We publish this poem on that tragedy in a week that has seen the demise of Mythili Sivaraman of Covid-19, at age 81.

Forty-four stone fistsHuts without roofs. Huts without walls. Huts ground to dust. To ash.44 stone fists line the cheri, like an angry memory,   like a war cry from history, like tears gone cold and fiery, witnesses to the wretched night of December 25, 1968 when Christmas was certainly not merry. Listen to the story of the 44; hear one, hear all.Huts without roofs. Huts without walls. Huts ground to dust. To ash.Flashback to four measures of paddy. Four is not enough, not enough they said, not enough to feed the landless and hungry. Hungry for food, hungry for land. Hungry for seeds, hungry for roots, Hungry to claim their broken backs, their toil, their sweat, their labour’s fruit. Hungry for their upper caste neighbours, the landlords, to see the truth.Huts without roofs. Huts without walls. Huts ground to dust. To ash.Some of them were clad in red with a sickle and a hammer and ideas in their head. All were poor and all were mad Dalit men and women, defiant children of labourers they were. We unionise, all of us, they said, let us not harvest the master’s fields. Little they knew as they sang their blues whose was the harvest, who was to reap.Huts without roofs. Huts without walls. Huts ground to dust. To ash.The masters were always sharper, calculating and merciless. They hired help from neighbouring villages “Beg forgiveness,”they said. “For what?” retorted the labourers. So the landlords locked them – scared men, women, children, 44 in all, huddled in a hut. Shot them, torched them. Trapped inside, they burst into flames in the middle of the night. 22 children, 18 women, and 4 men made the tally of those slain brutally in the massacre of Keezhvenmani. They live in newspaper clippings, in novels and research journals           Huts without roofs. Huts without walls. Huts ground to dust. To ash.

Author&#39;s note: I wrote this poem after being deeply moved and inspired by Meena Kandasamy&#39;s novel The Gypsy Goddess on the Keezhvenmani massacre of 1968.* cheri:  Traditionally, villages in Tamil Nadu are segregated into oors, where the dominant castes live, and cheris, where Dalits reside* The refrain used in the poem – Huts without roofs/ Huts without walls/ Huts ground to dust/ To ash – is from the opening lines of an essay about the 1968 massacre written by Mythily Sivaraman titled Gentlemen Killers of Kilvenmani, published in the Economic and Political Weekly, May 26, 1973, Vol. 8, No. 23, PP. 926-928.* These lines are also in Mythily Sivaraman’s book Haunted by Fire: Essays on Caste, Class, Exploitation and Emancipation, LeftWord Books, 2016. Audio: Sudhanva Deshpande is an actor and director with Jana Natya Manch, and an editor with LeftWord Books.

Keezhvenmani: huts ground to dust and ash

کیل وین منی: خاک ہو گئیں جھونپڑیاں، بدل گئیں راکھ میں

कीळवेनमनीः जमीनदोस्त केलेली बेचिराख घरं

കീഴ്‌വെൺമണി: മണ്ണടിഞ്ഞു ചാരമായ കുടിലുകള്‍

କୀଝବେନ୍‌ମଣି: ଧୂଳି ଓ ପାଉଁଶ ପାଲଟିଲା ମାଟିଘର

किलवेनमणि : राख़ में तब्दील हो गई ज़िंदगी

কিলভেনমনি: ধূলিস্যাৎ ভস্মীভূত পঁজাঘৰ

கீழ்வெண்மணி: தூசியாகவும்  சாம்பலாகவும் தரைமட்டமாக்கப்பட்ட குடிசைகள்

కీళ్వెణ్మని: గుడిసెలు బూడిదపాలయ్యాయి

ਕਿਲਵੇਨਮਨੀ: ਝੌਂਪੜੀਆਂ ਜੋ ਸੜ ਸੁਆਹ ਹੋਈਆਂ

কীলভেনমনি: দলিতের কুঁড়েঘর, ছাইদানি অবসর

ಕೀಳ್‌ವೆಣ್ಮಣಿ: ಬೂದಿಯಾಗಿ ನೆಲಕ್ಕುರುಳಿದ ಗುಡಿಸಲುಗಳು

કેળવનમણી: ધૂળ ઝૂંપડી, ઝૂંપડી રાખ

Keezhvenmani

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


আমাদের সম্বন্ধে জানুন

পারি’র দুনিয়ায় স্বাগত

আমাদের যাবতীয় লেখাপত্তর নিখরচায় ব্যবহার করা যায়, আর আগামীদিনেও এই নিয়মই বজায় থাকবে। আমাদের কাজকর্ম ভালো লাগলে আপনি স্বেচ্ছাশ্রম দিয়ে অথবা অর্থ সাহায্য করে এই কাজে সহায়ক হতে পারেন।

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

Keezhvenmani: huts ground to dust and ash

On December 25, 1968, landlords killed 44 Dalit workers in this Tamil Nadu hamlet. A poem on that tragedy in a week when Mythili Sivaraman, one of the great chroniclers of that atrocity, has passed away

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit