Borders, Bodies, and Belongings: The Art of Staying Human

 

Borders, Bodies, and Belongings: Rethinking Identity, Justice, and the Art of Staying Human

(My Reluctant Notes from a Conference that Actually Made Sense)

Honestly, I didn’t even want to attend this conference. The title — “Borders, Bodies, and Belongings: Rethinking Identity and Justice Today” — sounded way too intellectual for a tired, over-caffeinated, emotionally confused student like me. My life was already floating somewhere between existential dread and exam trauma, so adding “borders” and “bodies” to that chaos didn’t feel appealing.

But somehow, I went. (Mostly because missing it would mean guilt and judgmental looks from professors.) And what happened? Well — it turned out to be one of those rare events where the speakers actually made sense.

The Conference Begins: Human Rights and the Art of Staying Awake

The keynote speaker, Mr. Henry Tiphagne (People's Watch)
, began by paying homage to Fr. Stan Swamy, SJ, the man who stood with the powerless even when the powerful tried to silence him. That single moment of remembrance pulled the entire hall into a reflective silence — a silence that said, “This is not just another academic discussion; this is about life itself.”

Henry began with a punchline that wasn’t funny but hit harder than humor: “Keeping democracy alive in this country is itself a challenge.”
Amen.

He spoke about the four pillars of Human Rights — life, liberty, equality, and dignity — and reminded us that though our Constitution beautifully frames them, the ground reality looks more like a bureaucratic comedy gone wrong. India, apparently, has one of the “best human rights infrastructures” — on paper. The National Human Rights Commission, Women’s Commission, Minorities Commission, Child Rights Commission — the list is endless. But, as Henry pointed out with surgical sarcasm, “They exist, but they don’t exactly function.”

Custodial deaths are rising. Commissions stay silent. And when we ask why, the answer is always “procedure.” India’s favorite word after “chai.”

Henry reminded us that relying solely on courts and judges is like expecting a PowerPoint presentation to fix a flood. “We need pressure from people,” he said. “Change doesn’t come from petitions — it comes from persistence.”

He then walked us through the maze of Human Rights Treaties that India has ratified — and, of course, the few that it still hasn’t (because priorities).

To name a few:

• International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (1968)

• Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1979)

• Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (1979)

• Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women (1980)

• Convention on the Rights of the Child (1992)

• Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (2007)

But the Convention for Migrant Workers? Still not ratified. Irony: India has millions of migrants, but apparently, they’re invisible enough to skip paperwork.

Of Migrants, Levinas, and the Philosophy of the Other

Then came the intellectual earthquake: The Levinasian Reading of the Maharashtra Migrant Crisis.
I’ll be honest — when I first heard “Levinas,” I thought it was a new French dessert. But turns out, he’s a philosopher who believed “ethics precedes ontology.” Translation: before you philosophize about existence, just learn to be decent to people.

Levinas said that “the Other” — the person different from you — matters more than your own self. Because through the Other, you discover your humanity.

And that’s where it hit me: our migrant workers, walking miles under the sun during lockdown, weren’t “cases” or “statistics.” They were faces. Faces that demanded ethical responsibility, not sympathy wrapped in hashtags.

In Levinas’ terms, the migrants became “the category of the Other,” reduced, depersonalized, turned into what Michel Foucault would call “transcendental bodies” — objects of policy, not persons of worth. The real question is not “What do we owe them?” but “What infinite responsibility do they create through their presence?”

And honestly, that question is enough to keep you awake longer than any coffee ever could.

Gadamer, Hermeneutics, and the Eternal Struggle to Understand Anything

Enter Hans-Georg Gadamer, the philosopher who basically said, “Understanding isn’t finding truth — it’s finding meaning together.”
His hermeneutics teaches that no one comes to the table empty. We all come with our prejudices (not the bad kind, but the pre-judgments that make understanding possible). Tradition, for Gadamer, isn’t a prison — it’s a bridge.

He called it the “fusion of horizons.” Imagine your perspective (your horizon) meeting someone else’s. The moment they fuse, understanding happens. But it’s never final. It’s messy, emotional, and transformative. Like trying to explain philosophy to your parents — you both walk away confused but somehow wiser.

Gadamer reminds us that language isn’t just words — it’s the world itself. “Whoever has the language, has the world,” he said. Which in today’s India means: if you don’t speak English, good luck getting a job or being heard.

Caste, Religion, and Recognition: The Ambedkarian Reminder

Then came the unavoidable conversation — justice and recognition in Indian secularism.

Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, as always, stood taller than the rest. He reminded us that recognition isn’t about cultural preservation — it’s about ensuring social justice rooted in liberty, equality, and fraternity.

Justice is not an academic idea here; it’s a lived demand. Diversity brings beauty, but it also brings the uncomfortable challenge of recognizing differences without weaponizing them.

Paulo Freire in India: Education Beyond Borders

Now, for my favorite part — the philosophical revolution in classrooms.

The session “Pedagogies Beyond Borders: Rethinking Paulo Freire in Postcolonial Education” was pure gold.

Freire hated the “banking model” of education — where teachers deposit knowledge and students passively withdraw it during exams. (Sounds familiar, right?)

He believed in dialogical learning — where both teacher and student learn from each other through conversation and critical reflection. In India, applying this means dismantling the colonial hangover that still dictates our education system.

Because let’s face it — our curriculum still worships Western thinkers while our indigenous wisdom collects dust.

When English proficiency becomes the only key to “quality education,” we marginalize millions. The Dalit, Adivasi, and vernacular-speaking students become strangers in their own classrooms. Their languages, their worlds, get downgraded.

The Freirean approach says: reclaim dialogue. Reclaim your language. Learn to think critically about the world that tries to silence you.

Decolonizing Education: Because Enough is Enough

Even after so many “postcolonial” years, our education system remains chained to colonial structures. Western epistemologies dominate; local and indigenous voices are tokenized at best.

The real revolution will happen when classrooms become spaces of liberation rather than competition. When teachers become facilitators, not dictators. When students’ lived experiences are treated as valid knowledge.

As Freire would say — education should not reproduce oppression; it should awaken liberation.

Bodies Trapped Between Belonging and Border: The Tamil Nadu Case

Another striking session explored “People with Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) in Tamil Nadu.”

It argued that people with AUD aren’t just medical cases — they’re bodies trapped between belonging and border.
State-run TASMAC liquor shops prioritize revenue over rehabilitation. Add social stigma, poverty, and policy apathy — and what you get is a cycle of exclusion disguised as “public order.”

These individuals, mostly illiterate and low-income men from marginalized backgrounds, are caught between belonging to society and being exiled by it.

The path forward? Dismantle social stigma, integrate economic and cultural reforms, and listen. Yes, listen. Because, as one researcher said beautifully, “Listening is the first act of justice.”

Conclusion: Between the Border and the Heart

At the end of the day, this conference — which I almost didn’t attend — reminded me of one thing: Justice is not a theory; it’s a practice.

Borders, bodies, and belongings are not just academic themes; they’re lived realities. To understand them, we need not more laws, but more empathy. Not more reports, but more conversations.

Whether through Gadamer’s hermeneutics, Levinas’ ethics, Ambedkar’s justice, or Freire’s pedagogy — the message remains the same:
We must listen.
We must understand.
And we must act — even when the world feels too complicated for words.

Because, after all, philosophy isn’t about escaping the world.
It’s about learning to live — meaningfully — within it.

– Rohan Brahmane, Student of Philosophy
(Still reluctantly attending conferences, but maybe, just maybe, finding meaning in them.)