‘Duty’ or caste-based oppression? Babita Gautam and Sahil Valmiki discuss Wounds of Pyre

“It is my job. My ancestors did this before me. We don’t have the luxury of thinking,” says Pawan Choudhary, a cremation worker from the Dom community, as he reflects on his work, in the documentary Wounds of Pyre—Inside the Minds of Cremation Workers. But how did this work become the community’s identity? Directed by Babita Gautam and Sahil Valmiki, the documentary film seeks to answer this unsettling question. It delves into the lives of the Dom community, exposing the harsh realities of caste-based labor, the psychological toll of cremation work, and the resilience of those who have been bound to the pyres for generations. The film takes us to Banaras, where the sacred ghats bustle with rituals, and it turns its lens toward the Dom community—generations of cremation workers bound to the pyres by caste.

Presented by Dalit Desk, the film also features compelling interviews with Dr. Vaishali Sonavane and Raj Mariwala, offering critical insights into the intersection of caste, labor, and mental health. Dr. Sonavane, a Dalit mental health professional, challenges the widely accepted notion of a “caste-based occupation.” “This is forced labor,” she clarifies. The film reveals how the relentless heat of burning bodies, the suffocating smoke, and the immense physical and emotional toll of their work are inescapable. To endure, many turn to alcohol, tobacco, and paan—small reprieves in a life that offers no escape. Paid as little as ₹50 to ₹200 per pyre, they spend up to 22 hours a day amid the burning ghats, lighting an average of 16 bodies daily—a number that surged to 82 during the COVID-19 lockdown. The film raises a profound question: how is it that those who light the pyres and guide souls to salvation are shunned, while priests who perform sacred rituals are revered? This stark contrast underscores the deep-seated caste hierarchies that continue to define dignity and respect in society. With cinematography and editing by Rohit Siddharth, the film brings this overlooked reality to light.

As journalists and storytellers from Dalit communities, Babita Gautam and Sahil Valmiki have long been reporting and documenting caste-based issues. Their work is drawn to the stories that remain invisible to the larger society—narratives that are often too uncomfortable for the mainstream to engage with. One unsettling truth that deeply moved them is how death, instead of being a moment of grief and reflection, is shaped and controlled by the harsh realities of caste in our country. “Globally, people understand that dealing with death takes a heavy emotional and mental toll,” they explain. “But here, in India, the task of handling death—cremating bodies, collecting ashes—has been violently assigned to one community for generations: the Dom community. What struck us deeply was how caste and society together have legitimized this system—through mythology, ritual, and social order—denying the Dom community not just of their dignity but also of the right to process trauma, to grieve, and to live as equals.”

Beyond exposing this structural oppression, the duo sought to shed light on the mental health crisis within the community. “When we talk about mental health in India, Dalit communities are rarely—if ever—a part of that conversation,” says Sahil. “Despite performing the most emotionally and physically exhausting labor, despite their daily proximity to death, the mental well-being, humanity, and suffering of the Dom community remain completely invisibilized.” For the duo, this film is an act of resistance against that silence. “It is our way of asking: If death is sacred, why are those who serve it treated as untouchable? Why are their lives deemed unworthy of dignity?”

Babita Gautam recalls how gaining access to the lives and experiences of these workers for the documentary was a gradual and deeply sensitive process. “Our greatest challenge was gaining emotional access—persuading the community to open up and allow us into a world that is so often silenced and invisibilized,” says Babita. As journalists from the Dalit community, they had spent years fostering relationships and building trust with Dalit communities and grassroots organizations across India. “This network allowed us to approach the Dom community with a sense of responsibility and care,” Babita explains. “Being from the Dalit community ourselves opened certain doors—they knew we weren’t outsiders looking to ‘consume’ their pain, but individuals who truly understood the lived reality of caste-based discrimination.” Yet, despite this shared identity, trust was not immediate. “It still took time for them to believe in us—to entrust us with their stories, their grief, and their silences,” Babita reflects.

The documentary compels the audience to confront a stark reality: a case where workers have internalized their labor as an inescapable ‘duty.’ “Through centuries of mythology and cultural narratives, Indian society has not only justified but normalized caste-based occupations—not just in cremation work, but across all forms of caste-based labor. This is precisely how caste operates—by embedding itself so deeply into the social and cultural fabric that people begin to accept their oppression as duty,” explains Sahil. He asserts how, for every caste-based occupation, such beliefs further perpetuate the notion that certain work inherently ‘belongs’ to a particular community. “This system upholds a brutal social hierarchy, where one human being is dehumanized and condemned to a life of indignity by birth, while another is elevated to privilege and power,” Sahil observes. Tradition binds the workers from the Dom community to generations of servitude, reinforcing a structure that confuses oppression for fate.

The documentary highlights a social contradiction where people regard cremation as sacred, yet those who carry it out face disdain. Babita Gautam explains, ”Several people in the documentary speak about this painful contradiction. They are fully aware that it is their hands that light the pyre, that it is through their labor that the final rites are completed, and that the dead attain salvation. Despite performing what is considered a sacred act, they still face contempt and disgust. She recalls how deeply unsettling it was to hear their experiences firsthand. “It was heartbreaking to learn that even as they carry out these sacred rites, people refuse to stand close to them, speak to them with respect, or even acknowledge their presence,” Babita reflects. This contradiction—of performing a ritual considered holy while being treated as untouchable—is not just an injustice; it is a wound that many workers carry in silence.

The relentless proximity to death takes a profound toll on the emotional and mental well-being of these workers. Sahil Valmiki reflects on the workers’ reality. “As we’ve seen in the film, many workers operate in what can only be described as a state of emergency—always alert, always ready to perform their duties, often without rest. Over time, such behavior numbs their emotional responses—not because they don’t feel, but because they are forced to suppress their emotions to survive,” he expresses with concern. Babita Gautam further sheds light on how many workers turn to coping mechanisms such as alcohol, tobacco, and paan, as documented in the film. “While these provide temporary relief, they also give rise to a whole new set of physical health challenges, from addiction to long-term diseases,” she explains. The weight of their labor extends beyond the cremation grounds, trapping them in a cruel paradox. “On one hand, they are forced to suppress their emotions to carry out their work; on the other, the very ways they cope with that pain inflict further harm on their bodies,” she observes how it is a vicious cycle to be in.

Sahil Valmiki and Babita Gautam highlight how caste has condemned generations of the Dom community to this work, emphasizing that breaking this cycle demands both immediate action and long-term structural change. “Through our documentary, we highlight that change is possible when we address both urgent needs and systemic issues. In the short term, clear steps must be taken—ensuring proper safety mechanisms at cremation sites, providing fair and dignified wages, and offering immediate support to safeguard their physical and mental well-being.”

Even though the COVID-19 pandemic temporarily brought the plight of cremation workers into public discourse, no structural changes from the government or NGOs had followed since then. Sahil Valmiki underscores this glaring lack of meaningful intervention: ”While there may be some scattered initiatives or individual efforts, nothing substantial has been done on a larger scale to improve their working conditions or support their well-being,” he observes.

The cycle of caste-based labor, though deeply entrenched, is not unbreakable. Within the Dom community, there are individuals and families who are resolutely striving to forge a different path for the next generation. “As shown in the film, many parents have expressed a deep desire to ensure that their children do not inherit this caste-based occupation,” shared Babita. Determined to break free from the constraints imposed upon them by birth, they are placing their hopes in education, urging children to pursue opportunities beyond the cremation grounds. “Several people told us very clearly, ‘No matter what, we will not let our children do this work,’” Babita recalled, a testament to their resolve to reclaim agency.

Looking ahead, Babita and Sahil hope that the Dom community can reclaim its identity and dignity—where young people are no longer forced into cremation work but are empowered to pursue education and other professions. “We believe in fostering leadership from within the community itself,” they share, recognizing that real change must be led by those who have endured the system firsthand. Above all, they stress the importance of addressing the profound psychological scars inflicted by centuries of caste-based violence and dehumanization. “We must work toward the healing of deep psychological wounds,” they urge. “Ultimately, change will only come when society sees them not as mere workers of death, but as equals—individuals whose lives carry worth, dignity, and dreams beyond the cremation grounds.

The couple is acutely aware of the limitations of a single documentary in capturing the depth of the Dom community’s struggles. “Their lives are layered with both pain and resilience. One film can never be enough to encapsulate it all—especially the experiences of women and children,” Babita reflects. In the span of an hour, they did their utmost to bring these stories to light, knowing that much remains to be told. Having only recently premiered the film, the couple is now preparing to screen it for the workers at the earliest opportunity. They are actively coordinating with the community and finalizing dates to ensure the screening takes place soon. “One of our top priorities is to share the film with the very people who are part of it,” says Babita. “It’s essential for us that they experience it firsthand.” In addition to this, they are preparing for nationwide screenings, determined to spark conversations across India about the realities the Dom community endures.

In their pursuit of meaningful change, Babita Gautam and Sahil Valmiki have developed a leadership program designed for the youth from the Dom community to equip them with filmmaking and storytelling skills. “This is essential for long-term change so they can share their narratives,” Sahil emphasizes. Committed to amplifying voices that are deliberately silenced in mainstream media, the duo also intends to work on a series of documentaries that delve into untold stories not only to inform but also to inspire action. The couple, who are also co-founders of Dalit Desk, a news organization, recollect how, as journalists and filmmakers from the Dalit community, they have witnessed the erasure or misrepresentation of their stories in mainstream media. Dalit Desk was born in 2019 out of the need “to tell our stories, in our voices, without filters or distortion. It gives us the freedom to document, report, and amplify the lives, struggles, and resistance of Dalit communities with honesty and depth”, says Sahil.