In samsara sex and violence are unbridled. Only the fit survive. Nature is an impersonal web where all beings are locked in a never-ending struggle to stay alive. The hungry hyena will eat the pregnant doe. Sheep will trample over pretty daisies as they reach for that patch of succulent grass. There is no compassion, no hatred—only creation and destruction as the wheel of life rotates.
Society, or samaja, is an artificial construct. It is a space where man can liberate himself from the struggle for survival. He can transcend primal urges, explore art, and seek meaning in existence. Samaja offers choices that make man human. It is based on law that makes concessions for the weak. This law rejects nature’s wild side, regulates instincts of sex and violence, domesticates Nature’s fertility, and establishes civilization. Hindus call this law of civilization dharma. Dharma makes society stable.
Those who respect dharma are described in Hindu scriptures as aryas, “noble ones”; those who do not are equated with the wild forest spirits known as rakshasas. The rakshasas are despised because they cling to matsya nyaya, “law of the jungle,” and oppose the ways of the aryas, especially their much-revered ceremony known as yagna in which Nature’s benevolent energies are invoked and social interaction is promoted. The epic Ramayana is the tale of the confrontation of the aryas and the rakshasas:
Laxmana cutting off the nose of Surpanaka, the brazen rakshasa woman who dared to solicit him. Chitrakathi painting; Paithan, Maharashtra. Nineteenth century.
Every time the rishi Vishvamitra tried to conduct his yagna in the forest, the rakshasas led by a female called Tadaka would attack and disrupt the ceremony. Exasperated, Vishvamitra sought the help of Rama, prince of Ayodhya, who was an incarnation of Vishnu, sustainer of civilization and upholder of dharma. Rama raised his bow and kept the rakshasas at bay. He was, however, unwilling to kill Tadaka because she was a woman. “It is not wrong to kill a woman to protect the weak,” said the sage. So Rama raised his bow and shot down Tadaka.
Ramayana
Later, palace intrigues force Rama to leave his city and live like a hermit in the forest for fourteen years. His dutiful wife, Sita, and brother, Laxmana, follow him to the forest where, once again, Rama has to contend with the rakshasas:
Surpanaka, a rakshasa woman, saw Rama on the banks of the River Godavari in the Dandaka forest. Aroused by his beauty, she sought his amorous embrace. Rama refused to entertain her. “I have a wife already,” he said. “Go to Laxmana, my brother, who is without one.” Laxmana, who only wanted to serve his brother, also turned down Surpanaka’s proposal. Enraged, she decided to kill Sita and take her place by force. Laxmana stopped the wild forest-woman, cut off her nose, and drove her away.
Ramayana
As a rakshasa woman, Surpanaka follows the law of the jungle that does not recognize marriage. Like a flower, she attracts all bees. Like the forest floor, she accepts every seed. She expects all men to respond to her solicitations. But dharma does not endorse her free ways. In Rama’s realm marriage is sacred and infidelity a crime. Rama’s hut in the forest marks an island of civilization. Across the threshold is wild Nature, where the weak have no defense, as Rama’s wife, Sita, discovers to her horror:
Ravana, lord of rakshasas, was Surpanaka’s brother. He decided to avenge her humiliation at the hands of Rama and Laxmana by abducting Sita. Sita’s beauty, described by Surpanaka, played no small part in his decision. Ravana sent a golden deer and lured Rama out of his hut. Hours passed and there was no sign of Rama returning from the hunt. Fearing the worst, Sita begged her brother-in-law Laxmana to go and look for him. “Rama ordered me to stay and watch over you. But as you are forcing me to go, let me trace a perimeter around Rama’s house with the tip of my arrow. Do not let anyone in. Do not cross it. No harm will befall you, so long as you stay within,” said Laxmana before leaving. While the brothers were away, Ravana tried to enter Rama’s campsite but discovered he could not cross the boundary marked by Laxmana. So disguised as a hermit, he called out to Sita and asked her to bring him some food. As the wife of a nobleman, Sita was obliged to feed the hungry. But Ravana demanded that she serve him outside the perimeter of Rama’s house. “I cannot enter your house while your husband is away. It would not be proper. The least you can do, in keeping with the laws of hospitality, is bring out the food.” Sita naively agreed to step out. No sooner had she done so than Ravana grabbed Sita and carried her to his kingdom.
Sita being confined to her house by a line drawn on the threshold by her brother-in-law Laxmana. Chitrakathi painting; Paithan, Maharashtra. Ninteenth century.
Ramayana
By crossing the threshold, known as laxmana rekha, Sita steps into the world where might is right. She loses the protection conferred by dharma and pays the price. Hindus consider laxmana rekha the threshold of proper conduct. Every member of society is expected to stay within it. Rama, who sacrifices personal joy to stay within, is revered as maryada purushottam, “exemplar of rectitude.”
In Tantrik art society is represented by a square circumscribed within a circle. The circle symbolizes samsara, acknowledging the fact that there are no sharp edges in Nature. Nature rotates according to ritu, the periodic ebb and flow of rasa. Sharp edges indicate human intervention, the unwillingness to go with the flow, the desire to hoard the sap of life and keep out the unwholesome side of Nature. Sharp edges mean dharma, the sharp edge of man-made law that establishes social order. Dharma decides what is acceptable in society and what is not. Dharma destroys the laws of the jungle and brings in the order of civilization. The process of domestication is a violent one:
The blind king Dhritarashtra decided to divide his kingdom to make peace between his hundred sons, the Kauravas, and his five nephews, the Pandavas. The undeveloped half, the forest of Khandava, was given to the Pandava brothers, who set out with their cows to establish their kingdom there. Krishna, their friend and guide, helped them in this endeavor. The fire-god Agni wished to consume the Khandava forest. But every time he tried, the rain-god Indra would rush to the rescue of the forest creatures, release water from the clouds, and put out the flames. Krishna and the Pandava Arjuna decided to help the fire-god. They invoked Varuna, lord of the sea, and obtained divine bows. Using these, they created a canopy of arrows over the forest that kept out the rain. Agni was thus able to enclose the forest with a wall of fire. Trapped by the flames, blinded by the smoke, the birds and the beasts of the forest ran in every direction, crying out for help until they succumbed to the heat. Those that tried to escape the conflagration were hunted down by Arjuna and Krishna. When the fire had died out, the Pandavas built their city on the scorched forest floor. In the pastures around, protected from wild beasts by high fences, the Pandava cows grazed in peace.
Mahabharata
In another story that alludes to domestication of a river for the purposes of canal irrigation, the god of farming, Balarama, drags a river-goddess by the hair to satisfy his whims:
After consuming a great deal of wine, Balarama wanted to sport with women in the River Yamuna. He was too drunk to go to the river. He asked the river-goddess to come to him. The goddess refused to break her banks. So Balarama raised his plow, hooked the river-goddess with it, and dragged her to the orchard where he stood. The goddess writhed in agony and the river came to have many bends. Ultimately, she had no choice but to give into Balarama’s wish.
Bhagvata Purana
Balarama, the farmer-god, tames a wild river into a canal, and Krishna, the cowherd-god, transforms a forest into a pasture. Both are incarnations of Vishnu, the keeper of worldly order. So is Rama, the destroyer of the rakshasas. Beside Vishnu, Laxmi is not the fickle goddess of fortune but a demure and subservient consort who massages his feet and serves him with affection. With dharma, Vishnu generates the square of civilization within the circle of Nature.
The women Tadaka and Surpanaka stand outside the square. They reject the fetters of civilization, with sex in the case of Surpanaka and with violence in the case of Tadaka. Sita’s innate kindness makes her ignore the warnings of Laxmana and cross the line that isolates society from Nature. Yamuna refuses to willingly bow to Balarama’s whim. These tales bring to light the Hindu belief that society is a demanding masculine organism called purusha while Nature is a stubborn female organism called prakriti. Prakriti needs to be domesticated by the laws of dharma for the sake of purusha. Thus did Hindu patriarchy justify itself.
In a patriarchal society producing a child is not enough to repay one’s debt to ancestors. The child has to be male. A son is putra, deliverer from hell. He maintains the household hearth and offers funerary oblations to his forefathers. He is custodian of the family tree, keeper of family traditions, and inheritor of the family’s spiritual line of descent.
A man who helps another man father a son earns great merit. One father goes to the extent of prostituting his daughter’s ability to bear sons to earn merit for himself:
The sage Galava came to Yayati with a request for eight hundred horses to pay his fees to his guru, the sage Vishvamitra. Yayati had no horses to give. Not wanting to turn the sage away empty handed, he gave the sage his daughter Madhavi instead. “Oracles have foretold that my daughter will bear four illustrious sons. Let her bear one son for any king who will give you two hundred horses. When she will have borne four sons, you will have got the eight hundred horses you want,” he told the sage. Galava took Madhavi around India and she bore three sons for three kings, each of whom gave Galava two hundred horses. No other king had two hundred horses to spare. So after giving six hundred horses to Vishvamitra, Galava let his guru father a son on Madhavi, a son who was worth the remaining two hundred horses. Later Yayati decided to look for a groom for Madhavi, but Madhavi rejected all proposals and preferred to become a nun.
Mahabharata
Traditional scriptures state that a son is conceived when semen is stronger than menstrual fluid. Otherwise, a daughter is created. If the male seed is as strong as the female fluid, then the child born has both male and female qualities—it is either a hermaphrodite or a homosexual. To strengthen semen, Ayurveda, the ancient Indian medical treatise, prescribes continence, or brahmacharya; breath control, or pranayama; exercises, or asanas; and a diet of milk and milk products.
Other ways to ensure birth of a male child include performing the ritual known as putrakameshti yagna before the rite of conception to manipulate cosmic forces in one’s favor. In the third month of pregnancy a sacrament called pumsavana is performed to ensure masculinization of the fetus. During this now-obsolete ceremony, juice of the banyan tree, extracted by a virgin, was passed through the right nostril of the pregnant woman, strengthening the pingala, or solar channel of her body, that weakens menstrual fluid. The husband would then place in his wife’s palm two beans and a barley stalk, symbolizing his genitals. He would remove the grain from the barley stalk, the semen, and hand them over to his wife in the hope that it would strengthen the semen in her womb.
Despite all this, if a man could father only a daughter, tradition gave him the right to foster his daughter’s sons as his own:
The king of Manipura, Chitravahana, had no sons. He had only a daughter who was called Chitrangada. Chitravahana raised Chitrangada as a boy. She grew up riding horses, wrestling bulls, and hunting tigers. One day she saw the Pandava Arjuna and fell in love. Fearing that he would not appreciate her manly ways, she begged the gods to transform her into a demure damsel. The gods fulfilled her wish but Arjuna, used to the attentions of beautiful women, ignored her. When she learned that Arjuna had come to Manipura to meet its much-talked-about manly princess, she invoked the gods once again and begged to be restored to her natural self. Her wish was granted and she rushed to meet Arjuna, who instantly fell in love with her robust mannerisms. He asked Chitravahana for Chitrangada’s hand in marriage. “You can marry her only if you forfeit all claims to the son she will bear. My daughter’s son should consider my lineage as his own,” said the king of Manipura. Arjuna accepted the condition and married Chitrangada. In due course they had a son. He was named Babruvahana and declared the crown prince of Manipura.
Folklore based on Mahabharata
from the state of Bengal
Through sons, a man hoped to fulfill his dreams. One father was so desperate for a son that he refused to acknowledge the femininity of his female child:
Drupada wanted a son so badly that when his wife gave birth to Shikhandi he refused to acknowledge her as a girl. He treated her as a boy, raised her as a prince, and even got her a wife. On the wedding night Shikhandi’s wife raised a hue and cry and informed her father, Hiranyavarma, the king of Dasharna, that her husband was no man. The indignant Hiranyavarma threatened to attack Drupada’s kingdom with his mighty army. Drupada continued to insist that Shikhandi was a man but Shikhandi, confronted with the truth for the first time in her life, went to the forest to kill herself and save her people. In the forest she came upon a yaksha who offered to give her his manhood for one night. Shikhandi accepted the offer, went back to his city, made love to courtesans sent by Hiranyavarma, and proved his masculinity. In the meantime the yaksha’s overlord, Kubera, cursed the yaksha to remain a eunuch forever, because he had misused his magic powers to part with his manhood. This enabled Shikhandi to function as a man for the rest of her natural life.
Mahabharata
When given a choice between a boy and girl, one king preferred to adopt the male child:
King Uparichara, while out on a hunt, spurted semen while resting on the forest floor. He wrapped it in a leaf and gave it to his parrot, instructing it to take the semen to his queen. As the parrot rose to the sky, it was attacked by a hawk, and the packet of nymph called Adrika. In its body the king’s semen transformed into two human children. When fishermen caught the fish, they were surprised to find a boy and a girl in its belly. They took the infants to King Uparichara, who adopted only the male child. The female child known as Matsya, the “fish-born,” remained with the fishermen.
Mahabharata
The spurned illegitimate daughter of Uparichara—who is also known as Satyavati—so desired the royal destiny denied to her at birth that she married a king and made sure that the crown passed only to children borne by her:
King Shantanu fell in love with Satyavati and sought her hand in marriage. “Only if you make her sons your heirs,” said her foster father. The king accepted the condition and told Devavrata, his son by an earlier marriage, to give up his claim to the throne. This did not satisfy Satyavati. “How can you guarantee that the sons of Devavrata will not fight for the throne?” she asked. For her sake, Devavrata took an oath: “I will never associate with women and so will never father a child.” Only then did Satyavati marry Shantanu.
Mahabharata
By taking the vow of remaining childless for the sake of his father’s happiness, Devavrata condemned himself to the hell called put. He therefore came to be known as Bhisma, “he who took the terrible vow.” To delay his son’s death, Shantanu bestowed upon Bhisma the power to choose the time he wished to depart from the land of the living. By a strange twist of fate, Bhisma died only because of circumstances arising from the vow:
Satyavati’s sons were weaklings. One died before he could marry, and the other was incapable of winning himself a bride. So it was left to Bhisma to find wives for Vichitravirya, Satyavati’s surviving son. He abducted the three princesess of Kashi— Amba, Ambika, and Ambalika—and gave them to Vichitravirya. When the oldest princess, Amba, revealed that her heart belonged to the king Salva, Bhisma let her go. However, Salva refused to marry Amba. “How can I marry a woman who has already been claimed by Bhisma?” he asked. Because women cannot go back to their father’s house after leaving it in the arms of another man, Amba had no choice but to go back to Vichitravirya. Vichitravirya, quite happy with Ambika and Ambalika, was not prepared to accept a woman who had spurned him in the first place. Destitute, Amba begged Bhisma to restore her honor by marrying her. Bhisma, who had taken the vow of celibacy, refused to do so. “If you can abduct three women, why can you not marry one? If you have taken the vow of celibacy, why are you not in the forest living like a hermit?” Amba cried. Blaming Bhisma for her misfortunes, Amba went all around the world looking for a champion who would kill Bhisma and avenge her humiliation. No one, not even the warrior-priest Parashurama, could defeat Bhisma in battle. Finally, Amba swore to kill Bhisma on her own. She invoked Shiva, the god of destruction, who told her that she would be the cause of Bhisma’s death in her next life. Unwilling to wait for death, Amba killed herself and was reborn as Shikhandi, daughter of Drupada, the king of Panchala. Years later Shikhandi managed to acquire the body of a man, meet Bhisma in battle, and be responsible for his death.
Mahabharata
Though fatally injured during the battle, Bhisma decided to use the power given to him by his father to delay his death until the sun began its northern, ascending journey after the winter solstice. The time chosen by Bhisma to die is significant. According to the Hindu calendar, when the sun is in its southern, descending course after the summer solstice, ancestors rise from the land of the dead to receive funerary offerings from their male descendants. Bhisma chose to die only after the ancestors had returned to the land of the dead. Perhaps he did not want to face his debtors. Because Bhisma died without issue, devout Hindus perform shradha in his honor on the day of his death on behalf of the male descendants who might have been but for his self-sacrifice.
Hindu dharma is based on the doctrine of obedience. All urges are to be disciplined to the demands of society. In ancient Hindu society women and men were expected to perform their social role without question. A woman’s role as childbearer and homemaker was defined by her biology. A man’s role was defined by his birth.
A man could take birth in any of the four primary castes, or varnas, of Hindu society. If born in the family of brahmanas, he became a member of the highest caste and had to take care of the spiritual needs of society. As a kshatriya, he had to take care of its political needs, while as a vaishya, he was responsible for its economic needs. If he was born in a shudra family, he became a member of the lowest caste and part of the labor force. According to the Rig Veda, the brahmanas, or priests and philosophers, make up the head of society; the kshatriyas, or noblemen and warriors, make up its arms; the vaishyas, or farmers, herdsmen, and traders, make up its trunk; and the shudras, or serfs, servants, and laborers, are the legs. Together the four castes keep purusha, the male organism that is society, alive.
In a world without society, fatherhood does not matter. All that matters is the fulfillment of male and female biological obligations to ensure the rotation of the cycle of life. How it happens, under what circumstances, makes little difference:
Satyakama wanted to study the religion of truth in the hermitage of Gautama. To gain admission, he had to name his father. “Of which seed am I fruit?” he asked his mother Jabala. Jabala replied, “I have known many men in my life. Go tell your teacher that you do not know who your father is but you do know that your mother is Jabala.” When Satyakama introduced himself thus, the teacher was impressed, for the boy had taken his first step in the quest to learn the truth.
Chandogya Upanishad
However, within ancient Hindu society fatherhood mattered. A man’s role was defined by birth. It was imperative that a man know of which seed he was fruit. A man without knowledge of his father was a bastard, unaware of his role in life. This was the tragedy of Karna, one of the protagonists of the epic Mahabharata:
Kunti, daughter of King Kuntibhoja, served the sage Durvasa with great devotion when he visited her father’s house. In gratitude, the sage taught Kunti a magic formula that would enable her to call upon any deva and have a child by him. Out of youthful curiosity, Kunti decided to test the mantra. She called upon Surya, the sun-god, who instantly descended from the sky and made love to her. The son, thus conceived, was born with a pair of divine earrings and a golden breastplate. Fearing a scandal, Kunti put the child in a basket and cast him to the whim of a river. A childless charioteer found the basket and raised the child as his own. Though raised as a charioteer, the sun-god’s son who was named Karna showed all the qualities of a warrior. He befriended Duryodhana, prince of Hastinapur, and so impressed all with his skill in archery that he was made king of Anga. Despite his achievements, he was always taunted as a charioteer’s son. All his life there remained a shadow in his heart—he did not know who he was, a shudra charioteer or a kshatriya king.
Mahabharata
It was almost impossible for a man to change the destiny determined by his birth, as one learns from the tale of the sage Matanga:
Matanga once hit a young donkey. The mother of the animal tried to console her offspring by informing him that nothing better could be expected of a chandala, a low-caste undertaker. Matanga, who came from a brahmana family, asked the mother donkey for an explanation. The mother donkey then disclosed that Matanga’s mother had once, in a state of intoxication, made love to a shudra barber and that he was the product of that illicit union. Hurt by the truth, Matanga embarked on a course of austerities to obtain from the gods his promotion to the varna of brahmanas. His austerities won him the admiration of Indra, king of the devas, who offered him many boons but expressed his inability to change his caste.
Ramayana
In a society defined by caste the union of a woman with a man from a lower caste was condemned by all: Such a pratiloma, or reverse union, led to a high-caste womb being contaminated by a low-caste seed. Ideally, women were expected to marry men belonging to the same caste. The marriage of a low-caste woman with a high-caste man, known as anuloma, was tolerated:
During a famine, the only person to earn a good living is the undertaker, or chandala, who tends to funeral pyres. During one famine, a group of starving sages went to the house of a chandala for food. But the chandala refused to serve them, fearing that by letting high-caste men eat in his house he would be breaking the code of dharma. He finally relented on the condition that Vasistha, leader of the sages, marry his daughter Akshamala. As father-in-law, it would be his duty to feed his son-in-law and his friends, no matter what their caste. Vasistha agreed and married Akshamala. Akshamala’s beauty overshadowed the radiance of the sun and so Vasistha named her Arundhati. In time Arundhati became renowned in the Hindu world for her wifely virtue.
Skanda Purana
High-caste men often had wives from different castes. However, the inheritance invariably went to the child whose mother belonged to the same caste as the husband:
By some quirk of fate, Gandhari was pregnant for two years. During this time, her husband, Dhritarashtra, took a concubine for his pleasure and she gave birth to a healthy and intelligent child named Yuyutsu. Though competent in every way, he could never be crown prince. That position was reserved for Gandhari’s eldest son, Duryodhana.
Mahabharata
The status of the low-caste wife was often miserable. The author of the Aitareya Brahmana was the product of an anuloma union and had to face paternal discrimination:
Itara was a shudra wife of the sage Vishala. During a ceremony, the sage gave instructions to his sons by his upper-caste wife Pinga, but ignored Itara’s son, Aitareya. Hurt, Itara told Aitareya to seek instruction from Mahi, the earth-goddess, who treats people of all castes equally. The earth-goddess instructed him for twelve years and he became renowned as Mahidasa, “servant of the earth-goddess.” He lived for over a hundred years and wrote several sacred texts.
Aitareya Brahmana, Skanda Purana
In samsara childbearing was essential to rotate the wheel of life. In samaja childbearing had many social implications, making fatherhood vital for the survival of purusha.
Only when a man is convinced that a woman is sexually faithful to him can he believe that the child borne by her is the fruit of his seed. Considering the importance of paternity in ancient Hindu society, a woman could not claim that a particular man was the father of her son without adequate proof:
During a hunt, King Dushyanta chanced upon the lovely Shakuntala all alone in the hermitage of her foster father, the sage Kanva. His passions roused, Dushyanta suggested that they marry as the gandharvas do, without social endorsement. Shakuntala, attracted by the virile king, gave her consent. Without waiting for Kanva’s approval, the two made love freely, outside the norms of society. His lust satisfied, Dushyanta left for his city, promising to send for Shakuntala as soon as it was possible. Years passed. Dushyanta did not return. Meanwhile, Shakuntala gave birth to a son whom she named Bharata. When the son came of age, he demanded to see his father. So Shakuntala took him to Dushyanta’s court. Dushyanta was furious when she identified him as the father of her son. “How dare you say that, you low-born wench,” he said. He ordered her to leave his palace or stay behind as a concubine, for she was unworthy of being a queen. Hurt and humiliated, Shakuntala turned around and began walking out of the palace. Suddenly, a heavenly voice spoke up and told the royal court that Shakuntala was no liar and that the child she had borne was indeed the son of Dushyanta. Hearing these words, Dushyanta was overjoyed. “This divine testimony enables me to publicly acknowledge Bharata as my son. Now my subjects will not dare cast aspersions on your character and his paternity.”
Mahabharata
In society witnesses are required who can testify to the union of man and wife. This makes marriage mandatory. In samsara women are adored as mothers who bring forth life. In samaja they are respected only if they are wives. Motherhood without matrimony is not appreciated. Matrimony harnesses female fertility. Women bear children for husbands, not Nature. The transformation of nymph to wife, of forest into field, is brought out in the tale of Marisha:
The rishi Kandu restrained his senses and retained his bodily fluids to escape the cycle of life. To distract him from his tapas, Indra sent down the apsara Pramlocha, who successfully managed to seduce the sage. In her arms Kandu found so much passion that a hundred years passed as if it were one night. When Kandu awoke from this erotic trance, he was furious and he ordered Pramlocha to go away. As she rose to the sky, trees brushed off her perspiration. Pramlocha was pregnant with the seed of Kandu at this time, and the embryo permeated from her womb through her sweat into the trees. The wind gathered the fluid embryo from the leaves, and moonlight transformed it into a beautiful girl called Marisha. She was Nature’s daughter. Meanwhile, the ten Prachetas brothers were meditating under the sea. Their austerities gave them miraculous powers. When they came up after ten thousand years, they found earth uninhabitable, overgrown with trees. So they spat out fire, torched the forests, and cleared the land. To make peace, Nature gave the brothers Marisha’s hand in marriage. Marisha, wife of the ten Prachetas, gave birth to Prajapati Daksha, lord of civilization.
Vishnu Purana
Marisha’s marriage to ten men suggests that polyandrous marriages were perhaps part of Hindu society in ancient times. Marisha was not the only woman to have more than one husband simultaneously. There was Jatila who had seven husbands, and Varkshi who had ten. The most famous polyandrous woman of sacred Hindu lore was Draupadi, heroine of the epic Mahabharata, common wife of the five Pandava brothers:
The Pandava Arjuna won the hand of Princess Draupadi of Panchala after winning an archery competition. “Look at the prize I won at the contest,” he shouted when he reached home. His mother, busy in the kitchen, spoke without turning around, “Whatever it is, share it with your brothers.” Arjuna, who always obeyed his mother, was therefore forced to share his wife with his four brothers.
Mahabharata
Bards and scholars have constantly tried to “explain” Draupadi’s polyandrous status. The need to explain a woman’s, but not a man’s, polygamy is a symptom of a patriarchal society:
In her previous life Draupadi had pleased Shiva with her devotion, and he had offered her a boon. She asked for a husband who would be noble, strong, brave, handsome, and wise. “So be it,” said Shiva. She thought that she would get a husband with these five qualities. Instead Shiva, the guileless god, in his innocence, had granted her five husbands, one noble, one strong, one brave, one handsome, and one wise.
Devi Bhagvatam
In many Puranas it is said that Draupadi was in fact an incarnation of the earth-goddess, while her five husbands embodied the five aspects of Indra, god of the sky. Another story suggests that Draupadi’s polyandry was not a boon but a curse:
Nalayani was given in marriage to an old and frail sage called Maudgalya. The sage was only interested in austerities and never paid any attention to her. Still she served him as a dutiful wife. In time the sage contracted leprosy, but Nalayani continued to serve him. Pleased with her devotion, the sage offered her a boon. “Give up your ascetic ways and make love to me,” she said. The sage instantly transformed into a young man and embraced her. After many years, the sage decided it was time give up the pleasures of conjugal life. When Nalayani objected, the sage cursed her that in her next life she would be reborn as Draupadi and have five men who would satisfy her lust.
Folklore from southern India
Sharing a common wife led to fatal sexual rivalry between brothers, according to the sage Narada, who narrated the following story to the Pandavas to make his point:
Together the asura brothers, Sunda and Upasunda, were invincible. To drive a wedge between them, Indra, king of the devas, sought the help of the nymph Tilotamma. Both asuras fell in love with this apsara. Intoxicated by her charms, unwilling to share her beauty, they began fighting over her. The two were evenly matched and ended up killing each other, much to the satisfaction of the gods.
Mahabharata
The tale of Sunda and Upasunda made the Pandavas realize how a common wife could either bind them together or split them apart. It prompted them to make elaborate bedroom arrangements with Draupadi:
The five brothers decided to share Draupadi in rotation. She would cohabit with one brother exclusively for a period of one year. During this time, the other brothers would not enter her bedchamber or demand her company. At the end of each year, before letting the next brother share her bed, she would walk through fire and regain her virginity. Thus each brother got the chance to deflower Draupadi and father a son in her. Once Arjuna, the third Pandava, entered Draupadi’s bedchamber in search of his bow while Draupadi was with Yudhishtira, the eldest. For this transgression, he was exiled for twelve years.
Mahabharata
Draupadi’s bedroom arrangements took care of sexual rivalry between the brothers. They also ensured that there was no confusion about the paternity of her five sons.
Biological paternity was not always important in Hindu society. There was a time when fatherhood was more of a social issue. Man was father of his wife’s children, whether or not they were fruits of his seed. Memory of this period is retained in many folktales:
When the merchant died, his relatives did not allow his widow to inherit his property. Destitute, the vaishya woman left the city with her daughter. As she made her way through her forest with her young daughter, she came upon a robber who had been impaled on a stake by a local king. The robber, who was on the verge of dying, told the widow, “Give me your daughter’s hand in marriage and I will tell you where I have hidden all the gold I have stolen. As her husband, I will be the father of all her children and thus be able to repay my debt to my ancestors.” The penniless widow accepted the robber’s offer. Soon after marriage, the robber died. The widow found the gold and settled in a nearby village, where her daughter fell in love with a priest. In due course she gave birth to her son, whom the oracles said would grow up to be king. To facilitate the process, the widow abandoned the child on the gates of a palace where lived a childless king. The king raised the foundling as his own. Years later the widow’s grandson became king and performed a shradha ceremony in honor of his ancestors. As he was about to throw the oblation into the river, three hands sprang up to catch it—one was the hand of the robber who had married his mother, one the hand of the priest who had fathered him, and one the hand of the king who had raised him. The priests advised the king to offer the oblation to the robber who had married his mother.
Vetalapanchavinsati
Marriage made man master of his wife’s womb. Like the owner of the field, the husband had full right over the harvest, irrespective of who sowed the seed. This claim over the womb did not expire with his death:
Vichitravirya died before he could impregnate his two wives, Ambika and Ambalika. So his mother, Satyavati, called upon her stepson, Bhisma, to impregnate the two widows. He refused because he had taken the vow of celibacy. So Satyavati sent for the sage Vyasa, her son born before her marriage, and asked him to do the needful. In due course, Ambika gave birth to a blind child who was named Dhritarashtra. Ambalika gave birth to a pale, sickly child who was named Pandu. To produce a healthier child, Satyavati forced Ambika to sleep with Vyasa again. Unwilling to lie with the sage, Ambika asked her maid, the palace concubine, to lie on the bed. The concubine bore a healthy child who was named Vidura. Though wiser and stronger than his brothers, Vidura could not be king because he was the son of a concubine, not a queen.
Mahabharata
Society could witness only the marriage ceremony, not the ritual of conception. Consequently, society recognized only the man who married the woman as the father of her children. Even the gods gave social paternity more importance than biological paternity:
The star-goddess Tara was given in marriage to Brihaspati, the wise lord of the planet Jupiter. But she eloped with the handsome moon-god Chandra. Brihaspati, who was also preceptor of the devas, refused to perform sacrifices for the gods unless they brought his wife back. Some of the devas sided with the lawfully wedded husband, others sided with the lover. After a great war, Tara was finally restored to Brihaspati. She came with child, and both Brihaspati and Chandra claimed the fetus. Only Tara knew the truth, but she refused to speak. But when the unborn child, Budha, lord of the planet Mercury, demanded to know his origins, Tara revealed that her child was the fruit of Chandra’s seed. Nevertheless, the gods declared Brihaspati, not Chandra, to be the real father of the child.
Bhagvata Purana
Perhaps the gods did not trust a woman’s word. Perhaps the gods preferred law to love. Whatever be the case, sexual fidelity was clearly not a subset of marriage until the sage Shvetaketu imposed monogamy on women:
During a great sacrifice, many sages visited the hermitage of sage Uddalaka. Uddalaka’s son Shvetaketu noticed that his mother was in the arms of one of the guests and that his father was not particularly perturbed by her behavior. “Women, like men, are born free,” his father explained. But Uddalaka’s words did not quell Shvetaketu’s outrage. He decreed, “Henceforth, women shall be faithful to their husbands and shall do as their husbands tell them to. Men shall respect chaste wives. Those who fail to do so will incur the sin of abortion.” Since then, women have been expected to be faithful to their husbands.
Mahabharata
Shvetaketu’s law gave the reins of a woman’s fertility to her husband. He became the farmer who fences the field, pulls out the weeds, and chooses which seed to sow. Thus, social paternity became biological paternity.
Shvetaketu’s law could easily be applied in monogamous households. In polygamous households, things were more complex. A woman with many husbands, such as Draupadi, had to make elaborate arrangements to make sure that only one husband shared her bed during a fertile period. Things were a bit simpler for a man with many wives. He had to ensure only that he visited each of his wives during her fertile period. If he did not, he could get into trouble:
Chandra, the moon-god, had married twenty-seven star maidens, daughters of Prajapati Daksha, but he preferred only the company of Rohini. He spent all his time with her. As a result, every night was a full-moon night. The neglected wives complained to their father, who warned Chandra to change his ways. When Chandra did not, Daksha cursed him with the wasting disease. As the days passed, his luster waned. To save himself, the moon-god sought refuge on Shiva’s head and began to wax. Finally, an arrangement was made that compelled Chandra to visit each of his wives once a month. It is said that when the moon-god approaches Rohini, he waxes; when he moves away from her, he wanes. When he is without a wife, it is the new-moon night.
Skanda Purana,
Somanatha Sthala Purana
from the state of Gujarat
A polygamous husband could not always keep his many wives happy. Things sometimes did go drastically wrong in the women’s quarters of a polygynous household:
Krishna, lord of Dwarka, had eight wives. When he defeated the demon Naraka, he discovered 16,100 captive women in Naraka’s harem. To save the women from destitution and infamy, Krishna accepted them as his junior wives and took them to his palace. Krishna used his powers and multiplied his body 16,108 times to be with all of his wives at the same time and to please them equally. Despite this, some of the junior queens turned their amorous attentions toward Samba, one of Krishna’s many sons who was as handsome as his father. One woman named Nandini even took the form of Samba’s wife and tricked her stepson into embracing her. When Krishna learned of these incestuous encounters, he cursed Samba with a skin disease. Samba had to propitiate the sun-god before he was cured of the condition.
Varaha Purana, Skanda Purana,
Bhavishya Purana
Shvetaketu’s law prevented women from choosing the seed they wanted sown in their womb. They could only choose husbands, who in turn selected the seed. If a wife was barren, she could always be replaced. But if the husband was impotent or sterile, Shvetaketu’s law gave him the right to order his wife to go to another man and have children by him. As lord of the field, he still had right over the harvest, so long as he chose the seed. Many childless kings took advantage of this legally sanctioned levirate:
Pandu had two wives, Kunti and Madri. But a curse prevented him from making love to either of them. If he tried, he would die. Pandu ordered his wives to bear sons by other men for him. Kunti had a magic formula, or mantra, by which she could call upon the gods and have children by them. She used it three times, called three gods, and gave birth to three sons. She refused to use the mantra again as, it was said, a woman who cohabited with more than four men was a prostitute. Pandu, who wanted more sons, asked Kunti to use the formula in Madri’s name. Kunti obeyed her husband and gave the formula to Madri for a single use. Madri cleverly invoked the celestial Ashwini twins and had two sons by them. Kunti refused to let Madri use the mantra again because she feared that Madri would use the formula to invoke another pair of twin gods and thus bear more sons than she.
Mahabharata
Pandu’s wife Kunti refuses to call upon more than three gods because according to her, association with more than four men makes a woman a prostitute. This belief perhaps explains why in the modern Hindu marriage ceremony, the bride is first given in marriage to the god of vegetation, Soma, then to the gandharva Vishvavasu, and finally to the fire-god Agni before she is given to the groom. Soma enjoys a woman when hair appears on her pubes, Vishvavasu has her when her breasts start to show, and Agni embraces her when she has her first period. By this metaphorical union to three divinities and then one human being, the Hindu bride uses up her quota of four husbands and thus is forbidden to remarry.
Shvetaketu’s law permitted women to have sex with other men, provided their husbands willed it. This enabled husbands to share their wives with other men:
Sudarshana told his wife Oghavati that she should look after every need of his guests. Once, while he was away, the lord of social virtue, Dharma, decided to test Oghavati. He came to her house disguised as a hermit, and Oghavati welcomed him in. “How can I serve you?” she asked. “By offering yourself to me,” replied the hermit. In keeping with her husband’s wishes, Oghavati gave herself to the hermit. While he was making love to her, Sudarshana returned home. He called out to his wife. “She is busy making love to your guest,” shouted the hermit from inside the bedchamber. “Please carry on. Forgive me for interrupting,” said Sudarshana. Dharma blessed the couple, pleased with Sudarshana’s hospitality and Oghavati’s obedience.
Mahabharata
In the above story Dharma, god of social virtue, endorses the practice of sex hospitality. Oghavati does not lose her chastity, because she did what her husband had asked her to. Sharing a wife with other men was seen as the sign of ultimate selflessness, which was much appreciated by the gods:
Disguised as a mendicant, Shiva sought shelter in the house of a hunter in the middle of the forest. But in the hut there was space for only two people. The hunter let Shiva sleep in the house with his wife while he slept outside. At night wild animals attacked and killed the hunter while Shiva slept in the hut in the arms of the hunter’s wife. In the morning the hunter’s wife mourned her husband’s demise but was glad he died while upholding the laws of hospitality.
Shiva Purana
Not all women tolerated being treated as commodities. There were women who questioned the right of a husband over his wife’s body:
Yudhishtira, the eldest of the five Pandavas, was invited to a game of dice by his paternal cousins, the Kauravas. Shakuni, maternal uncle of the Kauravas, played on behalf of his nephews and skillfully maneuvered the die so that Yudhishtira lost every game. As Yudhishtira lost game after game, he gambled away his kingdom, his four brothers, even his own self. Finally, he gambled away their common wife, Draupadi. Draupadi was dragged out of the royal women’s apartments by the hair and brought to court. The queen, who had never been seen in public before, was treated like a common slave. Outraged, Draupadi asked, “Can a man who has lost himself wager his wife?” To this question, one man replied, “When Yudhishtira wagered himself, he effectively wagered all his property, and that includes you.”
Mahabharata
The ideal wife, according to scriptures, is one who does household chores like a servant, gives counsel like a minister, is as beautiful and charming as the goddess Laxmi, is as patient as the earth-goddess, bestows love and tenderness like a mother, and gives pleasure like a courtesan. She subsumes her personality to her husband. She is undemanding in good times and supportive in bad times:
King Harishchandra once disturbed the penance of the sage Vishvamitra. To make amends, he gave the sage his kingdom as a gift. The sage accepted the kingdom as charity. Having lost his kingdom, Harischandra was forced to leave his city and live in the forest. As he left, his dutiful wife, Chandravati, followed him with their son. They had not gone far when Vishvamitra came after them demanding dakshina, a monetary gift that must accompany any charity. Having given up his kingdom, the king did not have any money. He decided to raise the money by selling himself. “Sell me, too,” said the virtuous Chandravati. So Harishchandra sold himself and his wife in the slave market and collected enough gold to pay Vishvamitra’s dakshina. This act of integrity earned great merit for Harischandra. His wife became renowned for her conjugal devotion.
The goddess Laxmi massaging her consort Vishnu’s tired feet, thereby expressing her subservience and domestication. Temple wall carving; Dasavatara, Deogarh. Sixth century.
Devi Bhagvatam
When the husband spent time with a prostitute, a good wife did not protest, just waited for his return patiently:
The merchant Kovalan spent all his time with the courtesan Madhavi. His wife, Kannagi, waited for him at home, with tears in her eyes, observing fasts and propitiating gods that he may return. When he returned, having squandered all his wealth on Madhavi, she accepted him with open arms. Kovalan could not bear to live in the city where he had lost his money and his reputation. He decided to travel to the city of Madurai and start afresh. Kannagi accepted his decision and silently followed him through the dark, dense forest, earning the reputation of the loyal and virtuous wife.
Shilappadikaram
Whatever the fault of a husband, the wife had to accept him unconditionally:
Surasena, king of Pratisthana, had a son named Nageshvara who had the body of a snake. The king concealed this fact and tricked Bhogavati, princess of Anga, into marrying him. When Bhogavati learned the truth, she accepted her fate and served her serpent husband with devotion. Later Nageshvara learned that he had been cursed to have the body of a seprent because he had overheard a secret conversation between Shiva and Parvati. His human body would be restored if his virtuous wife took him to a holy lake and gave him a bath. Bhogavati did as her husband requested, and Nageshvara regained his human form.
Brahma Purana
Ordering a wife to be chaste did not ensure her fidelity because, by nature, women were believed to be nymphs who derived much more pleasure from sex than men and hence had a greater appetite for it:
Bhangashvana had fathered many sons. Once Indra cursed him to become a woman. As a woman, he produced many sons. Thus, he had two sets of sons—those who called him “Father” and those who called him “Mother.” Indra caused the two sets of children to fight and kill each other. When Bhangashvana pleaded for mercy, Indra asked which set of sons he would like back. “Those who call me ‘Mother,’” said Bhangashvana. When asked whether he wanted a male body or a female one, he replied, “A female one, so that I can get more pleasure.”
Mahabharata
The idea that women are oversexed because they derive greater pleasure than men during sex is popular among many Indian tribes:
The first man and first woman stayed away from each other for sin of incest. The goddess of smallpox scarred their faces. Unable to recognize each other, they got married. However, they did not know how to produce children. So god gave them love charms; woman took more love charms than man and so women are more lusty than men.
Central Indian tribal lore
One erotic manual, the Koka Shastra, was written for the sole purpose of enabling husbands to satisfy their wives adequately so that they would not want to be with other men:
A woman once entered a king’s court without any clothes on. When asked to explain this immodest behavior, she looked at the crowd of courtiers and declared scornfully that it did not matter because there were no men around her. “O King, not a single man in your kingdom has been able to satisfy me. My body burns with desire and the heat is unbearable. If I am walking around naked, it is because of your inadequacy. I challenge you to provide me one lover who will pleasure me adequately.” The king hung his head in shame when one of his courtiers, a brahmana called Koka Shastri, walked up to him and requested permission to take the oversexed woman home. “I know how to satisfy and silence her,” he said. Koka took the woman home and spent the night making love to her so persuasively that before dawn, the woman was quite near fainting from fatigue and from repeated orgasms. She begged the brahmana to stop. The next day Koka dragged the woman back to the king’s court and forced her to inform the king of her sexual subjugation by one of his subjects. She then solemnly covered her body in his presence. The king, anxious to learn how Koka had defeated the naked woman, commanded Koka to write a treatise that would teach all men how to satisfy their wives so that they might not run around naked.
Folktale from northern India
In the Garuda Purana one learns, “A woman has twice a man’s desire for food, four times his cunning, and eight times his appetite for sex.” This led to the popular belief that most women indulged in adultery but were just too cunning to get caught. The clever adulteress is a popular character in Indian folklore. The following story occurs in the Panchatantra, a book written by a priest who wished to impart worldly wisdom to his royal students:
A chariot maker returned home to find his wife’s paramour in bed. He slipped under the bed hoping to catch his wife red-handed. When his wife walked into the room, she caught sight of her husband hiding under the bed. Rather than getting flustered, she began thinking of ways to outwit him. She began to cry and when her paramour tried to comfort her, she said, “I know I invited you into my house. You must think that I am a woman of loose morals. But you see, sir, I had no choice. The goddess appeared in my dreams and informed me that my husband will die within six months unless I go to bed with another man. That is the reason why I have invited you here. I know this is not right and that I shall suffer in hell for this, but that suffering is nothing compared to the pain of losing a husband. Will you help me save my beloved lord, kind sir?” The paramour realized that something was afoot and, with secret laughter lighting up his face, said, “Yes, noble lady, I shall do what you ask me and take upon me the sin of touching a chaste woman so that you do not become a widow.” The fool of a husband was so pleased with his wife that after her paramour had finished making love to her, he came out from under the bed, picked up both of them, placed them on his shoulders, and took to the houses of his relatives shouting, “My wife is no unfaithful wench, as you claim she is. She is a chaste wife who has broken the vow of marital fidelity only to protect me from death.”
Panchatantra
Another collection of tales was put together to inform the reader about the nature of clever adulteresses:
A merchant had to go on a voyage, leaving his young and beautiful wife all alone for sixty-nine nights. Fearing that his wife might be unfaithful while he was away, the merchant told his pet birds, a female mynah and a male parrot, to keep an eye on her and stop her from doing the undesirable. On the
first night itself, as the wife prepared to visit her paramour, the mynah gave her a moral sermon. Irritated, the wife wrenched off the mynah bird’s neck. Then the wise old parrot asked the wife if she knew the tricks of getting out of compromising situations familiar to all accomplished adulteresses. The wife did not and begged the parrot to enlighten her. Every night, just as the wife was about to leave the house, the parrot would tell the story of one clever adulteress, stretching it through the night, riveting the woman with the plot until daybreak. In this way he told her sixty-nine stories and kept her virtue intact for sixty-nine nights. Having heard all these tales, the wife realized that being an adulteress required skills she did not possess. She decided against visiting her lover. Luckily, that very night her husband returned, and the two made love within the confines of marital laws.
Sukasaptati
It is said that many men became monks out of disgust with the sexual appetite of adulterous women:
A sage gave King Bhratrihari the sweetest mango in the world. Bhratihari did not eat, preferring to gift it to the woman he loved most—his wife. The queen gave it to the stable boy with whom she was having an affair. The stable boy presented it to a peasant girl who had won his heart. The peasant girl felt she was unworthy of such a fruit, so she presented it to King Bhratrihari, who thus became aware of the faithlessness of his wife. Disgusted, he renounced his throne and became a monk.
Vetalapanchavinsati
Stories such as this fueled paranoia about a woman’s virtue. It became necessary to find ways and means to restrain the nymph’s sexuality.
Like her sexuality, a woman’s beauty was a threat to social order. It could arouse unbridled desire, and the resulting kama could make man turn away from dharma. In ancient Hindu society beauty was considered a dangerous stimulant to primal, undisciplined urges. All women who were aware of their beauty were considered crafty, threats to social order:
Dashratha, king of Ayodhya, had three wives. His second wife, Kaikeyi, was his favorite; she was beautiful, intelligent, and brave. She would go hunting with her husband and even join him in battle. Once, in the thick of battle, as Dasharatha’s chariot was being quickly maneuvered across enemy lines, the bolt of the chariot wheel fell out. When Kaikeyi noticed that the wheel was about to slip out, she inserted her thumb in the bolt hole, keeping the wheel in place and the chariot steady. On learning of Kaikeyi’s bravery, Dasharatha offered her two boons. “I will reserve them for the future.” Years later Dasharatha decided to renounce the world and pass on his crown to Rama, his eldest son by his eldest queen, Kaushalya. To secure the throne for her son, Kaikeyi made use of the two boons given to her by her husband long ago. “I want you to crown my son Bharata king and order Rama to go to the forest and live as a hermit for fourteen years.” Dasharatha, bound by his word and unable to deny anything to his beautiful wife, was forced to comply. He bitterly regretted losing his heart to this beautiful woman with a wicked heart.
Ramayana, Brahma Purana
Royal counselors prevented kings from marrying extremely beautiful women, fearing that their charms could distract the king from his royal duties:
A merchant wanted the king Yashodhana to marry his daughter Unmadini. The king’s couselors were dispatched to inspect and appraise the prospective bride. Astounded by her amazing beauty, the counselors feared that she would corrupt the king and distract him from his dharma. Accordingly, they returned and informed the king that she was very ugly. Rather than reject the proposal, the king ordered the merchant to give his daughter to the commander of his armies. Unmadini never forgave the king for rejecting her and waited for an opportunity to avenge her humiliation. During a spring festival, as the king moved through the streets on his elephant, Unmadini stood naked on the terrace of her house and showed herself to the king. Infatuated by her beauty, Yashodhana sent his spies to learn more about her. When he learned that she was the merchant’s daughter, he flew into a fit of rage and banished his counselors from his kingdom. Learning of the king’s desire for his wife, the commander offered to send his wife to him, but because that is against dharma, Yashodhana refused the offer. The commander even offered to divorce his wife and turn her into a courtesan, thus making her accessible to all, including the king, without breaking social law. But the king refused. Unable to control his passion, realizing the malignant effect of kama, the king renounced his crown and became a hermit.
Katha-sarit-sagar
When a woman was extremely beautiful, it was taken for granted that she could not be faithful. In ancient India such women were ordered to become courtesans and serve as public wives. Unfaithful women caught by husbands and rejected by society also sought refuge in brothels. They were not treated with dishonor. They were seen as safety valves for the unbridled sexual urges of men, which could otherwise subvert social order. The courtesans were renowned for their capriciousness:
Vikramsingh, king of Pratisthana, was driven out of his city by intruders. He disguised himself and took refuge in the house of the courtesan Kumudika in the city of Ujjain. The courtesan served the king with love and devotion. The king was impressed by her service, but the king’s companions warned him to be wary of a beautiful woman’s affections. To test Kumudika, the king feigned death. His companions carried him to the crematorium. As they were about to light the funeral pyre, Kumudika expressed her desire to die with the king, for she loved him like a husband. Her decision convinced Vikramsingh that her love for him was genuine. When he revealed his true identity, Kumudika offered all her wealth to enable Vikramsingh to raise an army and win his kingdom back. “Why are you doing this?” asked the king. “In the hope that you also attack and conquer Ujjain and save my lover who is locked up in the prison,” replied the courtesan with a sly smile. The king realized that it was impossible to gauge a courtesan’s heart.
Katha-sarit-sagar
For the sake of social order, a woman’s sexuality had to be fettered to her husband, her beauty revealed only during the fertile period. For the rest of the time, she had to be locked away in the inner quarters of the household, unseen even by the husband.
The fear of being cuckolded haunted men most. In the following story found from the Thai version of the Ramayana, a man’s worst nightmare comes true:
Ahalya had sexual relations with the sun-god and the rain-god while her husband, the sage Gautama, was away. She bore each god a son and passed them off as the sons of Gautama. Anjani, Ahalya’s daughter by Gautama, however, told her father how he was being cuckolded. Enraged, Gautama drove his “sons” out of his hermitage and cursed them to turn into monkeys. Ahalya cursed Anjani that she, too, would give birth to a monkey. Anjani was standing atop a mountain worshipping Shiva when the wind-god Vayu made love to her. From that union was born the monkey-god Hanuman.
Ramakien
Variants of how Ahalya cuckolded Gautama are found in many Indian folk stories. A more popular story, however, is how Gautama punished Ahalya for having sex outside marriage:
When the sage Gautama discovered Indra, king of the gods, in bed with his wife, Ahalya, he castrated Indra and cursed his wife to turn into a stone that would be stepped on by all creatures. Years later, Rama—the noble prince of Ayodhya—placed his foot on this stone and, with the purity of his being, washed away Ahalya’s sin.
Ramayana
One sage beheaded his wife simply because she had adulterous thoughts:
Renuka, wife of sage Jamadagni, was so chaste that she could collect water in unbaked pots. But one day she saw a handsome king sporting with his wives in the river. She had adulterous thoughts that caused her to lose her unique power. Enraged, her husband ordered his son Parashurama to behead his mother.
Foklore from the state of Karnataka
To bridle a woman’s sexual instincts, the carrot-and-stick approach was used. In the above story, the stick was social ignominy and brutal punishment. The carrot was magical powers that stem from chastity. Renuka’s ability to collect water in unbaked pots comes from sat, the power of chastity, the product of a totally domesticated womb that sustains society. When a woman is true to her husband in body, mind, and soul, she acquires sat and transforms into a sati.
The word sati evokes great awe and respect among Hindus. A chaste woman is considered as holy as a celibate man. She is the foundation of human society, a being who has triumphed over primal urges and thus is worthy of adoration:
Shiva’s nakedness aroused the wives of forest hermits. When the forest hermits discovered this, they attacked Shiva with sticks and stones. Bruised and battered, Shiva sought shelter in Vasistha’s house. Vasistha was away but his wife took him in and nursed him back to health. She looked upon his naked body, which had aroused so many women, with maternal affection. Pleased with her chastity, Shiva blessed Arundhati.
Shiva Purana
A chaste woman’s sat, like a chaste man’s tapas, is acquired by bridling natural urges with mental discipline. Just as nymphs test the celibacy of a rishi, the gods test the chastity of a sati:
The beautiful princess Sukanya, daughter of King Saryati, pushed a twig into a termite hill unaware that within the hill sat an old hermit called Chyavana. The twig blinded Chyavana and destroyed his tapas. He threatened Saryati with a curse. To make amends, the king gave his daughter’s hand in marriage to the old blind sage. One day the twin gods, the Ashwini, known for their beauty and virility, approached Sukanya and asked her to abandon her old husband and make love to them. She rejected their offer and remained true to her husband. The gods then took Chyavana to a pond where all three took a dip and emerged looking equally attractive. Sukanya, in her chastity, recognized and chose her husband. The Ashwini blessed the chaste Sukanya so that she could make love and enjoy conjugal bliss with the rejuvenated Chyavana.
Shatapatha Brahmana, Jaiminiya
Brahmana, Mahabharata,
Devi Bhagvatam
In another story the sati penalizes those who dare test her virtue:
Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva decided to test the chastity of Anasuya, wife of the sage Atri. They went to her house disguised as young brahmanas and said, “We have been fasting for a month and have sworn not to break our fast until a woman lets us suckle milk from her breasts.” Compelled by the laws of hospitality, Anasuya agreed to let the handsome youths suckle her breasts. But as she undid her bodice, such was the power of her chastity that the three gods turned into three babies and Anasuya was able to nurse them without loss of her wifely virtue. Impressed by her purity, the gods declared that she would bear a son called Dattatreya who would contain within him the spirits of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva.
Folklore from the state of Maharashtra
Both sat and tapas are used to manipulate the forces of the cosmos in one’s favor. A woman’s restrained fertility is good for worldly life, just as a man’s retrained virility is good for spiritual life. Sacred Hindu lore is filled with tales of a chaste woman’s magical powers:
Gandhari was so chaste that when she learned that the man she was to marry was blind, she blindfolded herself so that she could share her husband’s misfortune. As she bottled up the power of her eyes, her gaze acquired tremendous powers. She decided to use it to save her wicked son, Duryodhana. Before he rode out to battle, she asked him to appear before her naked. “By the power of my gaze, I will make your skin so powerful that no weapon will penetrate it,” she said. When Duryodhana was about to enter his mother’s room naked, Krishna appeared on the scene and told him that as a grown man he had to have enough shame to cover his genitals and thighs when he appeared before his mother. Duryodhana covered his genitals with a few leaves and stood before his mother. She removed her blindfold for the first time in her life and looked upon her son. When she discovered that his underparts were covered, she wept and covered her eyes once again. “Foolish boy, there is a chink in the armor my chastity bestowed upon you,” cried Gandhari. True enough, in the battle at Kurukshetra Duryodhana could not be harmed by any weapon until Bhima’s mace smashed his thighs and crushed his genitals.
Folklore based on Mahabharata
from the state of Haryana
With the power of chastity, a sati could protect herself from all harm. In the following story, the chaste wife uses sat to destroy the man who tries to rape her:
Damayanti’s husband Nala gambled away his kingdom in a game of dice. Destitute, he was forced to leave his city and seek shelter in the forest. As befitting a dutiful wife, Damayanti decided to share her husband’s misfortune and follow him into the forest. While in the forest, Nala could not bear to see his wife suffer for his misdeeds. He ran away, hoping that she would go back to her father’s house and live in comfort. Abandoned by her husband, Damayanti lost her way in the forest. She was caught by a python and would have died had a hunter not come to her rescue. Finding her all alone, the hunter decided to have his way with her. When he tried to touch her, he burst into flames. Such was the power of Damayanti’s chastity.
Mahabharata
Such tales led to the belief that if a woman was raped, it was because she did not have adequate sat to protect her—she was not chaste enough. A victim of rape was thus held responsible for her crime.
When aspersions were cast on a woman’s character, the onus of demonstrating sat and confirming her chastity fell upon the woman. For this, she had to go through a trial by fire.
The fire-god Agni’s capacity to burn was believed to be a manifestation of his unquenchable erotic desire. No woman was safe from his fiery passion. He could, however, never cast his lustful gaze on chaste wives. Their sat protected them from being singed by the flames of his desire:
The fire-god Agni fell in love with the wives of the seven celestial sages and decided to make love to them with heat and light every time they came near him. He thus successfully managed to make love to six sage wives and make them pregnant. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make love to Arundhati, wife of Vasistha. Such was her chastity.
Mahabharata, Skanda Purana
Many patriarchs concluded that the best way to test a woman’s fidelity was to make her go through a trial by fire, or agni-pariksha. If fire did not harm her, it meant she possessed sat by remaining true to her husband. The most famous trial by fire in sacred Hindu lore is that of Sita, the embodiment of wifely virtue:
After rescuing his wife, Sita, from the clutches of the rakshasa-king Ravana, Rama asked her to go through a trial by fire to show the world that she had been faithful to him even though she had lived under another man’s roof. Sita sat on a pile of wood and ordered her brother-in-law Laxmana to light the fire. The flames did not even singe her hair. The fire-god Agni himself appeared and testified to Sita’s good character. Pleased with this, Rama accepted Sita as his wife.
Ramayana, Skanda Purana
However, the trial by fire was not foolproof—as one learns from the following story:
A brahmana discovered that his wife was unfaithful to him. When she pleaded her innocence, he ordered her to undergo a trial by fire to prove her chastity. When the adulterous wife stepped into the pit of fire, the flames did not harm her. Surprised, the brahmana demanded an explanation from the fire-god Agni. Agni explained that the place where his wife had liaisons with other men was a holy spot where all sins are washed away. Hence, though adulterous, she was still chaste.
Sita’s chastity being tested by fire. Chitrakathi painting; Paithan, Maharashtra. Nineteenth century.
Skanda Purana
Perhaps that is the reason why the people of Ayodhya doubted Sita’s fidelity when she returned to Ayodhya:
Rama returned to Ayodhya after spending fourteen years in the forest and was immediately crowned king by his people. They all had heard how his wife, Sita, had been abducted by the rakshasa-king Ravana and how Rama had rescued her from the island kingdom of Lanka. Everyone wondered whether Sita had remained faithful to Rama. One day the queen mother Kaikeyi, Rama’s stepmother, who had been responsible for his exile in the first place, asked Sita to draw her an image of Ravana. “I never looked at him. I only once glanced at his shadow as he was carrying me across the sea.” Coaxed by Kaikeyi, Sita drew the outline of Ravana’s shadow. When she left the room, Kaikeyi completed the picture and then showed it to Rama, planting seeds of suspicion in his heart.
Folklore based on the Ramayana
Eventually, the people of Ayodhya refuse to accept Sita as their queen, and Rama is forced to take cognizance of their wishes:
Not long after his coronation, Rama’s spies informed him that people were speaking ill of his wife. They did not appreciate his accepting Sita as his wife after she had spent time in the house of Ravana, a rakshasa known for his virility and power over women. When Rama learned this, he was heartbroken. He loved Sita but did not want to smear his family’s good name. So he ordered Sita to leave his palace and his city and live in the forest.
Uttara Ramayana
Sita’s exile from Ayodhya is a contentious issue in sacred Hindu lore. Rama is considered the most virtuous man to walk on earth, an incarnation of the god Vishnu himself. Many wonder how he could abandon a wife who had proved her chastity. How could he succumb to popular pressure when he knew what was right? Endless debates have been raised on the subject. What is interesting is that although Rama abandons the woman his people do not want as queen, he refuses to marry another woman. Rama’s fidelity to Sita is unique in sacred Hindu lore. Most Hindu gods and heroes have more than one wife. Only Rama has the unique distinction of being ekam-patni-vrata, “one who is eternally faithful to a single wife.”
As king, Rama is obliged to perform many yagnas. Since no man can participate in this sacred ritual without a wife sitting beside him, he places an idol of Sita made out of gold on the seat reserved for his queen. That he uses the purest metal on earth to mold the image of Sita is noteworthy.
Later in the epic one is told how Sita gives birth to Rama’s sons, a pair of twins, in the forest and how, years later, the boys find Rama’s royal horse and refuse to part with it. A great battle ensues between the soldiers of Ayodhya and the two young boys. By the power of Sita’s sat, the boys manage to defeat Rama’s army. Still the people of Ayodhya refuse to accept Sita as queen. Then an event occurs that forces them to accept Sita’s purity:
A thousand-headed rakshasa attacked Ayodhya, and it was said that only a chaste woman could kill him. Every woman in the city entered the battlefield but failed to harm the terrible rakshasa. Finally, the people of Ayodhya begged Rama to send for Sita. Sita entered the battle, picked up a bow, and shot an arrow straight through the rakshasa’s heart, killing him instantly.
Devi Bhagvatam
Despite getting this proof of her chastity, the people of Ayodhya insist on another fire-test before accepting Sita as queen. Tired of having to prove her virtue repeatedly, Sita asks the earth to open and take her into its bowels if she is pure enough. Instantly, a great chasm appears, and from within rises a golden throne for Sita. As Sita disappears into the earth seated on the throne, flowers rain from the heavens—for Sita is no ordinary woman. Plowed out of earth by her father, King Janaka of Mithila, she is the earth-goddess Bhudevi herself.
After Sita’s disappearance, Rama renounces worldly life, gives up his body by entering the River Sarayu, and returns as Vishnu to Vaikuntha, his abode in the sky, to look upon and take care of the earth-goddess forever.
All Hindus worship Sita as the embodiment of wifely virtue.
One of the most celebrated satis in Hindu lore is Savitri, who by her wit saved her husband from the jaws of death:
Savitri married the woodcutter Satyavan, although he was destined to die within a year of marriage. On that fateful day Savitri saw Yama, god of death, cast his noose and capture Satayavan’s life breath. As he moved away on his buffalo, she decided to follow him to the land of the dead. Yama tried his best to give Savitri the slip, but no matter how hard he tried Savitri was determined to follow Yama to the land of the dead. “If you turn away I will give you anything but the life of your husband,” he said. Savitri asked that she have a hundred sons by Satyavan. “So be it,” said Yama and continued his journey. Some time later he found Savitri still following him. “Why are you still following me?” he asked. “I thought we had a deal.” “Yes, we did,” replied Savitri, “but how can I bear Satyavan a hundred sons when you are taking away his life breath?” Yama realized that Savitri had outsmarted him and tricked him into releasing Satyavan’s life breath.
Mahabharata
The tale of Savitri is narrated each year to married Hindu women, who then tie a thread round a banyan tree, praying that their husbands live as long as the perennial tree. There is no Hindu ceremony or ritual in which a husband prays for the long life of his wife.
A Hindu wife is considered responsible for her husband’s life, because the powers of chastity protect her husband from harm:
Ugrashrava was a wicked man, but his wife, Shilavati, served him dutifully. When he contracted leprosy, she begged on the streets to feed him. When he became lame, she carried him on her shoulders. When he had the urge to visit a prostitute, she took him there. The sage Mandavya was so disgusted by the sight of the lame leper Ugrashrava traveling to a prostitute’s house on his chaste wife’s shoulder that he decreed that Ugrashrava would die at sunrise. Shilavati then used the powers of her chastity to prevent the sun from rising. Anasuya, wife of Atri, finally persuaded Shilavati to let the sun rise and accept the inevitable death of her husband.
Brahmanda Purana
A woman’s chastity generates an armor of invincibility around her husband. To destroy this armor, devas use their guile to make the wives of their eternal enemies, asuras, unchaste:
The gods could not kill the demon Shankhachuda because he was protected by the power of his wife’s chastity. The only way to kill him, they realized, was to make his wife, Vrinda, lose her wifely virtue. So Vishnu, champion of the gods, took the form of Shankhachuda and visited Vrinda in her bedchamber while Shiva engaged the real Shankhachuda in the battlefield. Vrinda, unable to recognize the impostor, made love to him and lost her purity. With that, Shankhachuda became vulnerable to the weapons of the gods and was killed by Shiva.
Padma Purana
Vrinda’s chastity is compromised for the good of the world. The whole world holds her responsible for the death of her husband. Only Vishnu knows that she has been a true wife. He offers her shelter in his celestial abode, Vaikuntha. Vishnu’s consort, the goddess Laxmi, however, refuses to share her house or her husband’s affection with another woman. She does not let Vrinda enter the inner apartments. Helpless and destitute, Vrinda refuses to budge from Vishnu’s courtyard. In time, her feet turn into roots and her arms sprout leaves. She turns into the fragrant tulsi plant. Vishnu, who cannot not come to her rescue, turns into a shalagrama stone.
Vaishnavas call the tulsi plant Vishnupriya, “beloved of Vishnu,” because Vrinda’s steadfast though unrequited devotion won her an eternal place in Vishnu’s heart. Vishnu worship is incomplete without offerings of sprigs of this plant. Because Vishnu could not come to her rescue, she is brought to him. In deference to Laxmi, however, the plant is always kept in the court-yard, never in the inner quarters of the house.
Worship of the tulsi plant in the courtyard of a Hindu household. Chitrakathi painting; Paithan, Maharashtra. Nineteenth century.
The tulsi plant is an integral part of the Hindu household. Chaste Hindu women are advised to nurture and worship the sacred basil plant in their houses. Every dawn, after a bath and before beginning household chores, married women of the household worship this plant. They pour water, wave lamps, and circumambulate the specially designed altar on which the plant is grown. The plant is a reminder of the importance of sat in keeping husbands alive and ushering happiness and prosperity into the household.
Sat is the product of a totally domesticated womb. It forms the bedrock of a stable society. Belief in sat was and still is the most powerful means of ensuring a woman’s fidelity in Hindu society. It mentally pressures a woman to be faithful under all circumstances. If she is chaste, her husband is alive, her children healthy, and her household prosperous. She is respected in society as an auspicious suhagan and invited to all wedding and birth ceremonies. If she is unchaste, her household collapses and her husband dies. She becomes an inauspicious widow, shunned by all.
When a man died before his wife, it meant that the woman did not have sufficient sat to protect her husband from death. The only option left for a woman to reaffirm her chastity was to burn herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. She would bedeck herself in bright clothes, distribute her wealth among the poor, and sit on the pile of logs, placing her husband’s head in her lap and then ordering the fire to be lit. Her sat apparently protected her from feeling the pain as flames singed her clothes and burnt her flesh. She then transformed into Sati Maharani, the personification of chastity, the embodiment of wifely virtue, a goddess to be adored by all women:
The Pandavas defeated the Kauravas and emerged victorious in the Kurukshetra war. Gandhari, the mother of the Kauravas, was furious to learn that they had not spared even one of her sons. Because Krishna had successfully maneuvered the Pandavas to victory, Gandhari held him responsible for the death of all her sons. She cursed Krishna that he would die like a common beast. So it came to pass that, years after the war, while Krishna was resting in the forest under a tree, a hunter shot a poisoned dart mistaking his foot as the ear of a deer. When Krishna was cremated, four of his wives, including Rukmini and Jambhavati, joined him on the funeral pyre. The remaining four wives, including Satyabhama and Kalindi, went to the forest to lead ascetic lives.
Palmprints of women who immolated themselves following the death of their warrior husbands, and thus came to be identified as Rani-Sati. Jodhpur fort, Rajasthan. Eighteenth century.
Mahabharata
The word sati is linked to Shiva’s first wife, who killed herself to destroy a ceremony that sought to insult her husband:
Sati was the daughter of Daksha, the primal patriarch of samaja. She chose Shiva as her husband and unconditionally accepted his maverick lifestyle, his lack of guile, his lack of pretence, and his refusal to follow social conventions. Daksha did not appreciate Shiva’s ways and became particularly hostile after the ascetic god refused to salute him. To insult Shiva, Daksha conducted a grand yagna and invited everyone except Shiva. Sati considered this an oversight and went to the yagna, though Shiva refused to accompany her. There she learned the truth. Her father insulted her husband and no one stopped him. “I would rather die than hear such things about my beloved,” said Sati. She decided to kill herself by jumping into the fire altar. The fire-god Agni could not burn her. She had too much sat in her. So Sati created her own fire by the power of sat and incinerated herself.
Shiva Purana, Vishnu Purana
A good wife is supposed to make sure that her husband’s reputation is never soiled, even after death. It was considered better to die than risk the world berating the dead husband for being unable to protect his wife from rapists. All these ideas were used to justify burning a widow:
A civil war led to the death of all the Yadava men, and Dwarka became a city of widows. The Pandava Arjuna offered the destitute women shelter in his city. As he led them through the forest, they were attacked by forest tribes that abducted and raped the women. Some of the women managed to escape and drowned themselves in the River Sarasvati. Their souls went straight to heaven.
Mahabharata
In medieval times widows of warriors would voluntarily burn themselves rather than face the humiliation of rape. This was jowhar, an act of self-destruction to uphold the honor of the husband, the destruction of the field before another farmer could claim it.
A truly chaste wife, a pativrata, it was said, did not have to burn herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. She died the moment her husband breathed his last:
To test the love of Padmavati for her husband, the poet Jayadeva, the queen of Kalinga told her that her husband had been killed while ac-companying the king on a hunt. Instantly, Padmavati collapsed on the floor and her heart stopped beating. In panic, the queen sent for the king and the poet. The poet simply touched his virtuous wife with love, and she opened her eyes as if from a slumber.
Bhakti-mala
A pativrata had firm faith that she would not be alive if her husband were dead:
Ravana used his magic powers to conjure the head of Rama. He had it sent to Sita on a tray. “Now that your husband is dead, the law of marital fidelity no longer applies to you,” said the rakshasa-king. “Your sorcery will not fool me,” said Sita with conviction, “for if he were dead, I would have been dead, too.” The confidence of the virtuous wife destroyed Ravana’s apparition, and the truth behind the severed head was revealed.
Ramayana
It is said that a true wife walks beside her husband through seven lifetimes. She lives for him. If she dies before he does, all women worship her corpse, which is bedecked as a bride before being cremated. She is deified as sada suhagan, the eternally unwidowed matriarch.
The belief that a woman must be faithful to only one man over several lifetimes meant that a girl had to be chaste before and after marriage. Her virginity became a precious commodity. Fathers took great pains to secure their daughter’s reputation:
For one year Arjuna had to disguise himself as a palace eunuch named Brihanalla and live in the women’s quarters of Virata’s palace. He taught dance to the king’s daughter Uttara. At the end of the year, when Arjuna revealed his identity, the king feared that no man would want to marry Uttara, because she had shared her quarters with a man. To comfort the king, Arjuna declared that as her dance teacher he considered Uttara his child and accepted her as his daughter-in-law. Uttara married Arjuna’s son Abhimanyu.
Mahabharata
In the following story a princess cannot get married because a man touched her body before her marriage. She therefore spends the rest of her life with her girlfriend. Some scholars have commented on the suggestions of lesbianism in this narrative:
Ratnavali, daughter of the king of Anarta, and Brahmini, daughter of the priest of Anarta, were the best of friends. They could not bear the thought of being separated after marriage. They preferred death. On learning of the intensity of their emotion, the king decided that the two girls would be given in marriage to the same household—Ratnavali would marry the king, and Brahmani would marry the resident priest. It so happened that a brahmana youth in Anarta had visited a prostitute and consumed wine. To wash away the sin, he had the choice of drinking scalding-hot butter or touching the breasts of a virgin princess, considering her to be his mother. The youth’s parents begged the king of Anarta to let their son touch his daughter, because the other recommended method for expiation of sin was lethal. The king re-lented, and the brahmana youth touched Ratnavali’s breasts thinking of her as his mother. Ratnavali was told to look upon the youth as her son. Instantly, her breasts oozed milk. When the news spread, no man wanted to marry Ratnavali, as she had been tainted. Brahmani, too, could not marry, because she waited for sixteen years for Ratnavali to marry and was therefore too old to be a bride. The two unmarried girls left their parent’s house, sought refuge in the forest, and performed penance. Shiva appeared before Brahmani and blessed her. Brahmani refused to take the blessing until Shiva appeared before Ratnavali and blessed her, too. The place where Shiva blessed the two girls became a holy place.
Skanda Purana
Samaja fetters a woman’s fertility to one man. In Hindu society, when the husband dies, the wife is not allowed to remarry. She can kill herself on his funeral pyre. If she does not, there is the problem of her unrestrained sexual instinct:
After the death of her husband, Mahi left her son Sanajjata in the hermitage of sage Galava and went to live a free life. Years later Sanajjata ran away from the hermitage and went to a place called Janasthana where he had sexual relations with a woman, not realizing she was none other than Mahi. For unknowingly having sexual relations with his mother, Sanajjata contracted leprosy. When Galava divined what had happened, he ordered mother and son to bathe in a holy lake and wash their sins away.
Brahma Purana
Without a farmer to tend the field, the field turns into a forest. Without a husband who demands chastity, a widow can become a prostitute and bring dishonor to her husband’s memory:
A young widow took her husband’s ashes to Mathura, where she was seen by prostitutes who indoctrinated her in the ways of a harlot. Years later a young man visited her brothel and, after having sexual relations with her, contracted a dreadful disease. The sage Sumanta divined that the prostitute whom the young man had visited was his elder sister, widowed long ago. When the prostitute learned of this, she killed herself in shame. The brother was advised to go on a pilgrimage and wash away his sin by bathing in holy waters.
Varaha Purana
A good widow is expected to remain chaste to her husband’s memory:
Bhattika was a child widow. Her husband had died before she had attained puberty. Condemned to eternal virginity, Bhattika dedicated her life to god and spent her time singing songs to the glory of Shiva. The serpent-king Vasuki and his friend Takshaka heard her sing and fell in love with her. They abducted her and carried her off to the subterranean city of nagas known as Bhogavati. “Marry both of us. Human laws do not apply here,” said Takshaka. Bhattika refused and cursed Takshaka that he would lose his immortal serpent form and become a mortal man. Takshaka begged for mercy. Bhattika relented and said the curse would not come true if he took her back to earth. When Bhattika returned, no one in her village believed she was still chaste. To demonstrate her purity, she took the fire-test. She was so pure that fire turned to water.
Skanda Purana
In the Padma Purana a widow forced to remain faithful to her dead husband censures her vagina: “Why do you itch, my yoni? It is sinful that another man enters you.” When the itch does not stop, she inserts her finger to please her vagina and finally embraces the foot of her bedstead and presses her breasts against it.
A good Hindu widow, like a good Hindu wife, does not look at any other man. Without her husband, her fertility has no use. So she suppresses it, systemically and cosmetically. Not wanting to attract amorous attentions or arouse uncontrolled passion, she shaves her beautiful hair, wears drab white garments, and leaves her body unadorned. She smothers her sexual desires. As she suffers, she prays for a better life with her husband in her next birth.
Even in death a husband restrains the widow’s primal urge, which can subvert the edifice of civilization built on female chastity.
The widower, however, is free to remarry.
