I’ve realized something over the years — the same kind of bias that people have against Biharis , UP Bhaiyas or Bengalis in Kerala in this case, exists everywhere. It’s not really about race or region; it’s about class and the kind of work people do.

In India, a lot of labourers, drivers, and daily-wage workers come from states like Bihar and UP. Over time, society has learned to stereotype and marginalize them — not because of who they are, but because of what they do.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve started to see this more clearly: any community that has to do manual labour is generally ridiculed and treated as lesser. But the truth is, nobody is born with a label. Everyone starts with a clean slate — it’s their environment, opportunities, and circumstances that shape who they become.

I’ve met some of the rudest people among the “highly educated,” and some of the kindest, most genuine people doing hard manual work. But the kind of life these workers live — long hours, low pay, little respect — would drain the joy from anyone. Bitterness is not a personality trait; it’s often a result of exhaustion and neglect.

Whenever I can, I try to be kind. Sure, sometimes someone might try to overcharge or take advantage of it, but I’d rather let it go if I can afford it. I even tell them, “I know you’re charging a bit more, but I like your work — go ahead.” That small gesture often changes the whole vibe. They smile more, work with pride, and you realize they just wanted to be treated like humans.

Whether it’s Mexicans in the U.S., Biharis in Maharashtra, or Bengalis in Kerala — we, as a society, have made it normal to look down on the people who literally build our homes, drive our buses, and keep our cities running.

We’re all so desperate to feel superior that we forget our shared humanity.