Dhadak 2: A Step Toward Centring Caste in Bollywood                               

— ✍️ Akhilesh Kumar

In the time of Saiyaara, where Bollywood prefers fictional Characters over truths,  Dhadak 2 arrives with the courage to show reality. It talks about caste. It talks about discrimination. It talks about humiliation that is centuries old but still alive in our everyday lives. Bollywood has rarely touched this subject, and when it has, the story has been told through the Savarna gaze,  a gaze that dilutes the pain, the anger, the truth. A remake of Mari Selvaraj’s Pariyerum Perumal, the film seeks to address the systemic issues of caste-based humiliation, privilege, and societal inequities, challenging the industry’s long-standing "Savarna gaze" seen in films like Article 15. While not without its shortcomings, Dhadak 2 marks a significant step forward in Bollywood’s engagement with caste.

The story centres on Neelesh, A law student from the Dalit Community, navigating the hostile environment of a university. Director Shazia Iqbal skillfully illustrates how caste decides every aspect of Neelesh’s life, from classroom interactions to love for Viddhi, a woman from a privileged caste. The film confronts the brutal reality of inter-caste relationships, where love is a privilege that Dalits are often denied. In Indian society, Dalit men face violence or death for loving across caste lines, a recurring tragedy reflected in the daily news. Dhadak 2 captures this through Neelesh and Viddhi’s relationship, highlighting the caste-driven perception that a Dalit man’s body is inherently "polluting" to a privileged caste woman, threatening her family’s so-called purity and honour.

This notion of "pollution" is deeply rooted in caste ideology, where Dalit bodies are stigmatised as impure, particularly in the context of intimate relationships. The film portrays this through Viddhi’s family’s outrage at her relationship with Neelesh. Their concern is not merely about love but about the perceived taint which they consider a Dalit man brings to their lineage. In a pivotal scene, Viddhi challenges her family’s obsession with honor, questioning why her association with Neelesh, threatens their social standing.

The film exposes the patriarchal-caste nexus, where privileged caste families view a Dalit man’s touch or affection as a violation of Privileged Caste women’s “purity,” a belief that justifies violence to preserve caste boundaries. This perception of pollution is not just personal but systemic, rooted in centuries-old caste norms that deem Dalit bodies inferior and contaminating, particularly when they dare to cross the rigid lines of Caste endogamy. Neelesh’s struggles continue in the classroom, When Professor Amitabh Tripathi asks students to introduce themselves, Neelesh hesitates to reveal his full name, aware that surnames like Upadhyay and Bhardwaj carry social and cultural capital he lacks.He knows what his surname will invite: smirks, stares, whispered judgments. So he hides it and says he is Neelesh B.A LLB, But the professor presses on, knowing exactly where Neelesh comes from. Many of us who come from Dalit community know that feeling , the weight of a name that others see as shame, the way it strips you before you even speak.

Surnames, for the privileged, open doors; for the oppressed, they close them. The film pays homage to icons, with portraits of Savitribai Phule, Jyotiba Phule, and Dr. B.R. Ambedkar adorning the university principal’s office  symbolizing resistance and inspiration.The chants of “Jai Bhim” led by Shekhar, the Ambedkarite activist, are not background sounds, they are a heartbeat. In Neelesh’s home, the presence of Babasaheb’s image is more than decoration; it is survival, it is pride, it is identity. Shekhar’s words “Sadiyon purana discrimination ka backlog hai, 70 saal mein clear nahi hoga”, are not just about policy; they are about wounds that don’t heal in one lifetime. When he says he is a first-generation learner, he speaks for millions of Dalits who enter universities without the safety net of social and cultural capital.

The so-called upper castes inherit privilege like property; Dalits inherit struggle like debt. There’s another moment in the film, small, but sharp. Viddhi tells Neelesh, “Mujhe lagta tha ye saalon pahle hota tha gaon mein.” And Neelesh replies, “Jinke saath nahi hota hai, unko aisa hi lagta hai.” That single line is a mirror, showing the ignorance of privilege, the comfort of not knowing the pain of Marginalized. Dhadak 2 also tackles institutional discrimination, including the chilling reality of “Institutional murders", where Dalit students are punished for asking questions, for resisting injustices , their scholarships are withheld, voices are silenced, futures are cut short.

Neelesh’s struggle to survive in the university reflects a broader truth: for Dalits, education is a battle for dignity. As Shekhar tells him, “Padhai ke saath, aapne hak ke liye bhi ladna padega” (Along with studies, you must fight for your rights).

While Dhadak 2 deserves applause for bringing caste to the very centre of its narrative, it still falls short of fully exploring the depth and complexity of the issue. Caste in India is not simply a matter of individual prejudice or occasional discrimination; it is a centuries-old, deeply embedded system that shapes access to resources, education, relationships, and even the perception of self-worth. The film bravely raises topics like the notion of “pollution” associated with Dalit bodies, everyday humiliation in academic and social spaces, structural and institutional discrimination, and the constant emotional labour required to survive in a hostile environment. However, many of these themes are touched upon rather than examined in full detail, leaving the audience aware of the issues but without the richer context or layered storytelling that could truly unpack them.

When we compare this with Tamil cinema, particularly the works of Pa Ranjith (Kaala, Kabali) and Mari Selvaraj (Pariyerum Perumal, Karnan), we see filmmakers who do not shy away from presenting Dalit characters as assertive, politically conscious, and unapologetically vocal about their identities. Their films are steeped in cultural references, historical memory, and lived experiences that refuse to dilute the Dalit struggle for the comfort of upper-caste audiences. Bollywood, even in Dhadak 2, still treads more cautiously, often stopping short of such unapologetic assertion.

Yet, its effort to confront the Savarna gaze is a vital and welcome step. In the glittering world of Bollywood, where stories like Saiyaara offer escapist fantasies disconnected from ground realities, Dhadak 2 chooses to root itself in truth. It brings caste oppression, a subject many would prefer to ignore into the centre of the frame. For that reason alone, it deserves to be watched, debated, and remembered as a film that, despite its limitations, dared to begin a conversation that Bollywood cinema has long avoided.

- Akhilesh Kumar is a PhD scholar at Jamia Millia Islamia University, specializing in the Centre for Dalit and Minorities Studies. His Doctoral research focuses on "Conceptualising Marginality: Dr. B. R. Ambedkar and the Women's Question”.