V Rohith, a Dalit PhD scholar committed suicide on Sunday, leading to protests across Hyderabad Central University. Here's the letter he wrote before committing suicide.
Good morning,
I would not
be around when you read this letter. Don’t get angry on me. I know some of you
truly cared for me, loved me and treated me very well. I have no complaints on
anyone. It was always with myself I had problems. I feel a growing gap between
my soul and my body. And I have become a monster. I always wanted to be a
writer. A writer of science, like Carl Sagan. At last, this is the only letter
I am getting to write.
I always
wanted to be a writer. A writer of science, like Carl Sagan.
I loved
Science, Stars, Nature, but then I loved people without knowing that people
have long since divorced from nature. Our feelings are second handed. Our love
is constructed. Our beliefs colored. Our originality valid through artificial
art. It has become truly difficult to love without getting hurt.
The value of
a man was reduced to his immediate identity and nearest possibility. To a vote.
To a number. To a thing. Never was a man treated as a mind. As a glorious thing
made up of star dust. In every field, in studies, in streets, in politics, and
in dying and living.
I am writing
this kind of letter for the first time. My first time of a final letter. Forgive
me if I fail to make sense.
My birth is
my fatal accident. I can never recover from my childhood loneliness. The
unappreciated child from my past.
May be I was
wrong, all the while, in understanding world. In understanding love, pain,
life, death. There was no urgency. But I always was rushing. Desperate to start
a life. All the while, some people, for them, life itself is curse. My birth is
my fatal accident. I can never recover from my childhood loneliness. The
unappreciated child from my past.
I am not
hurt at this moment. I am not sad. I am just empty. Unconcerned about myself.
That’s pathetic. And that’s why I am doing this.
People may
dub me as a coward. And selfish, or stupid once I am gone. I am not bothered
about what I am called. I don’t believe in after-death stories, ghosts, or
spirits. If there is anything at all I believe, I believe that I can travel to
the stars. And know about the other worlds.
If you, who
is reading this letter can do anything for me, I have to get 7 months of my
fellowship, one lakh and seventy five thousand rupees. Please see to it that my
family is paid that. I have to give some 40 thousand to Ramji. He never asked
them back. But please pay that to him from that.
Let my
funeral be silent and smooth. Behave like I just appeared and gone. Do not shed
tears for me. Know that I am happy dead than being alive.
“From
shadows to the stars.”
Uma anna,
sorry for using your room for this thing.
To ASA
family, sorry for disappointing all of you. You loved me very much. I wish all
the very best for the future.
For one last
time,
Jai Bheem
I forgot to
write the formalities. No one is responsible for my this act of killing myself.
No one has
instigated me, whether by their acts or by their words to this act.
This is my
decision and I am the only one responsible for this.
Do not
trouble my friends and enemies on this after I am gone.
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