‘Vaazhai’: Mari Selvaraj’s Searing Exposé of the Layers of Systemic Caste Oppression and Childhood Trauma

Tamil film “Vaazhai” was originally intended to be Mari Selvaraj’s debut, a project born from a deeply personal trauma that shaped his very identity as a filmmaker. The story reflects the struggles and pains that have significantly influenced his life and work. Over time, this trauma became the foundation for his journey as a director, fueling his commitment to creating films that give voice to the oppressed. 

This story centers on Mari Selvaraj himself, portrayed through a fictionalized character, Sivanaindhan, brought to life by M. Ponvel in a performance deserving of every accolade. Sivanaindhan lives in the village of Karunkulam with his sister Vembu (Dhivya Duraisamy) and their mother (Janaki). 

“Vaazhai” traces the life of Sivanaindhan, a bright and ambitious student whose potential is weighed down by his family’s financial struggles and the crushing realities of caste oppression. Forced to work in banana harvesting on weekends — a job he detests — Sivanaindhan’s youthful spirit is constantly under siege. The film also pays tribute to a tragic 1999 truck accident that resulted in the death of 20 plantain farm workers, who were buried alive when the lorry overturned and its load of bananas crushed them. Mari Selvaraj’s real-life elder sister was among the victims of this heartbreaking incident.

The first time we see Sivanaindhan, he’s just a child, waking from a nightmare, wetting his pants out of sheer fear of going to work. This initial image sets the tone for his life, a life where weekends are a source of dread rather than relief. He, his mother, and his sister must join their fellow community members on weekends in the grueling task of lugging heavy combs of plantains from the local plantation to waiting lorries. For him, school is not merely a place to read and learn; it is his sanctuary, a brief escape from the relentless oppression he faces every day.

Holidays, which should be a time of rest and joy for any child, are instead a curse for Sivanaindhan and his family. He dreads holidays because it means more labor, more exhaustion, more reminders of their harsh reality. The film powerfully captures this when, after his exams, Sivanaindhan spends his entire holiday working in the fields, dragging plantains, symbolizing the unending cycle of toil and hardship that defines his existence. His dreams, his potential, and his youth are all overshadowed by the brutal weight of structural oppression and economic necessity.

The story begins to explore the beautiful friendship between two Dalit boys who are so close that they feel like brothers. Their bond is genuine, shaped by the shared struggles of their daily lives. One is a die-hard Rajinikanth fan, while the other idolizes Kamal Haasan, a contrast that adds depth to their characters. 

Early in the film, there’s a powerful scene where we see Sivanaindhan dancing joyfully with his friend Sekar at a funeral. This seemingly odd moment highlights the complexity of their lives — death in their community means a temporary escape from the grueling work on the plantation. Mari Selvaraj’s portrayal of the boys’ happiness at the funeral is a sharp satire. It subtly reveals Sivanaindhan’s desperate desire for respite from the relentless labor he endures.

We see a moment where Sekar and Sivanaindhan, sitting on the backbench, are singing and having fun, enjoying a brief escape from their daily struggles. However, their joy is cut short when the teacher catches them. Enraged, he beats Sivanaindhan on the head and makes a sarcastic remark about his lugging work, subtly reminding him of his place in society. It’s a cruel attempt to reinforce the caste hierarchy, showing Sivanaindhan that no matter where he is, he cannot escape his reality. The teacher then punishes them by making them kneel outside the classroom.

While kneeling outside, they notice their new female teacher, Poongodi (played by Nikhila Vimal). Unlike the others, she isn’t harsh with them. Around her, they feel like they can be children again. Poongodi, however, is far removed from the harsh realities of Sivanaindhan’s life. She knows about his work and shows some sympathy, but she never truly understands the depth of his experiences, the hardships, and the oppression he and his family face daily. But for Sivanaindhan, even this small gesture of kindness, this non-judgmental attitude, means the world. He’s simply happy to receive the little bit of love and care she offers.

As the story progresses, we see the relationship between the female teacher and the two Dalit boys deepen. Sivanaindhan even begins to compare her to his sister and mother, indicating the comfort he feels in her presence. You can see the innocence of a child seeking comfort and warmth in a world that offers him so little. 

Mari Selvaraj has deliberately scaled back the graphic violence, but this restraint intensifies the underlying discomfort and emotional turmoil. 

Kani, portrayed compellingly by Kalaiyarasan, embodies the role of a leader and a rebel who stands firm on the principles of dignity and respect for labor. His character is not just a leader but also a beacon of hope and change for the community. Sivanaindhan looks up to Kani as a father figure, admiring his leadership and principles. For Vembu, Kani is more than someone she respects — he’s the one who stirs her deepest feelings. One of the most touching scenes comes when Kani and Vembu exchange henna, wearing it on their hands and showing it to each other with genuine affection. 

The most memorable character in the movie, apart from Sivanaindhan and Sekar, is Sivanaindhan’s mother, played by Janaki. She fights to protect her family’s dignity and respect, navigating a world that constantly undermines their existence. But in the process, she often feels desensitized and helpless against the systemic forces of oppression. Through her struggles, Mari Selvaraj tries to show us the emotional and psychological toll that such societal injustice inflicts on those bound by familial duty. As she battles daily for survival, she begins to lose the nurturing, loving bond with her child.

Throughout the film, a dead stuffed calf appears several times. This fake calf is used to trick the mother cow into thinking her baby is still alive, so she keeps giving milk. The symbolism of the calf becomes even more significant when Sivanaindhan holds it after his mother has to sell the cow. This moment reveals the growing distance between him and his mother. As he clings to the stuffed calf, he feels the pain of being separated from his mother. This scene captures his sense of loss and the emotional strain on their relationship, illustrating how caste oppression and poverty can drive a wedge between family members.

In the film, you deeply sense the helplessness that pervades Sivanaindhan’s family. The relentless and complex oppressive structures inhibit their ability to live a normal life. The film effectively conveys how deeply entrenched systemic inequalities create an environment where their efforts to thrive are stifled at every turn, explaining the deep impact of these oppressive structures on their lives.

The film also integrates local deities of the oppressed caste community into its narrative, enriching the story with cultural dimensions. Notably, the main deity is female, similar to the representation of female deities in Karnan.

Throughout the film, there are recurring symbols of Black Ibises, which appear in several frames, especially during scenes depicting the aftermath of death. These birds are very common around agricultural fields and this is why Mari Selvaraj used these birds. The flight of the Black Ibis could symbolize a form of liberation from the oppressive realities Dalits faced till their death. 

Additionally, “Vaazhai” uses the image of a door in numerous crucial scenes to symbolize the barriers between Sivanaindhan and his mother. The door acts as a physical and metaphorical barrier, representing the societal forces that hinder their ability to share a loving and supportive bond. 

There are numerous shots in the film where Sivanaindhan is isolated within the frame to portray his emotional loneliness and the depth of his helplessness. These shots effectively convey his struggle and the overwhelming odds he faces, making his feelings of abandonment and despair clear to the audience.

The film also employs many aerial shots that look down on the workers from the oppressed community. This technique serves as a powerful visual metaphor for the indifferent and detached attitude of society towards their suffering. By presenting these workers from a high perspective, the film accentuates their vulnerability and the systemic disregard they face, reinforcing the theme of societal neglect.

The songs in the film play a crucial role in storytelling, with their lyrics adding significant depth and resonance to the narrative. Santosh Narayanan’s music is exceptional, enhancing the emotional and thematic layers of the film. However, there are moments when the score becomes overpowering, somewhat overshadowing the scenes it accompanies. While the music is generally effective in heightening the film’s atmosphere, these instances where it overshadows the visual storytelling slightly diminish its impact. Despite this, the overall contribution of the music remains integral to the film’s immersive experience.

There are two powerful scenes in the movie where Sivanaindhan attempts to escape the grueling lugging work, and in both instances, he faces unimaginable trauma. In the first instance, he pricks himself with a thorn to avoid going to work, but this act of desperation leads to unintended consequences. His cow wanders into someone else’s field, causing a commotion in the village. This incident results in his mother being publicly humiliated, highlighting the harsh consequences of defying societal expectations. The second attempt to escape work results in something even more tragic. The climax of this attempt is so heart-wrenching that it must be seen in the movie to be fully understood.

In a gut-wrenching scene, the young Sivanaindhan is so consumed by hunger that he struggles to fully comprehend the gravity of the tragedy unfolding around him. Everything seems blurry and distant as he is consumed by the immediate need for food. The camera, under Theni Eeswar’s brilliant direction, closely follows him, capturing every moment of his internal struggle with remarkable precision. His mother discovers him eating rice amidst the chaos, a moment that amplifies the horror of their situation.

Mari Selvaraj’s direction reaches its peak in this scene, effectively portraying the intensity of Sivanaindhan’s predicament and the crushing weight of his circumstances. The scene vividly illustrates the intersection of personal suffering with broader societal issues, making it a powerful commentary on the impact of systemic oppression on individual lives, families, and the entire community.

As the film ends, the impact of these traumatic events leaves us questioning whether Sivanaindhan will ever return to school. The experiences he endures fundamentally alter his perspective on the world, making it nearly impossible for him to view it with the same sense of hope and innocence. The film effectively captures the profound and lasting effects of such systemic oppression on an individual’s life and dreams.

Some viewers feel the climax didn’t hit as hard as they expected, but I believe the true power of the film is realized when you view it in its entirety. Mari Selvaraj has deliberately scaled back the graphic violence, but this restraint intensifies the underlying discomfort and emotional turmoil. 

The film’s impact is not diminished by the reduced gore; rather, it becomes more powerful. The layered depiction of pain and suffering allows the audience to feel the weight of oppression on a deeper level, especially for those who experience it firsthand. Mari Selvaraj approaches these themes with love, sensitivity, and maturity, ensuring that the film resonates powerfully with the audience.

---

Lokesh Bag is a writer, movie critic, and sketch artist. He has a graduate degree in Agricultural Entomology. An Ambedkarite, Bag has been creating meaningful conversations about caste, gender, and social issues. He has been published in The Quint and he often writes on various topics in tweet-chunks on Twitter/X for his fans. He believes in working towards a better tomorrow, one word at a time.