The incident of Shabari in the epic Rāmāyana which I have chosen to illustrate here occurs during the course of the 14 years of Rama’s exile to the forest. Shabari, a tribal, Bhil woman, has been a devotee of Rāma over a number of years. In her heart, Rāma is constantly present and her most ardent desire is to meet him someday in person. Now, she is old, her hair is all white, but her devotion to Rāma is as young as ever.

One day, she hears that Rāma is likely to pass through the village where she lives. And this excites her no end. She can neither eat, drink nor sleep. Her mind is effused with the thought that she will finally see the delight of her soul, her beloved Rāma. She turns into a bundle of eager anticipation. Suddenly it strikes her that when Rāma truly does come, what in the world will she offer him? She would certainly want to welcome him with some offering, but what? She neither has wealth nor possessions and nothing that would be worthy of being offered to, Rāma. Just then her eyes fall on the ripe, juicy berries hanging on the tree before her and she is inspired! She runs to the trees and begins plucking the fruit. But, what if they are sour, her mind whispers. What if appearances are deceptive and they turn out to be rotten from the inside? That would never do! And she begins to bite into and taste each berry. She throws the ones not fit to be offered and keeps aside the ones which are as sweet and pure as nectar. Now she is at peace—she can now be sure that when Rāma partakes of her offering he will receive the best there is!

And Rāma comes. She offers him the half-bitten and from our point of view, infected and soiled berries. It does not take long for Rāma to see through these half-eaten berries straight to the intention of Shabari. He realises the essence of her offering: Shabari’s total absorption in her devotion to himself. And he begins to savour them, one by one, with great relish. Laxmana is shocked. He is outraged with Shabari’s effrontery and then to witness Rāma enjoying the fruits with such relish!. Rāma then enlightens him, makes him see the ‘bhāva’, the sentiment behind Shabari’s action and clears Laxmana’s confusion.

Comment: The intention of the poet seer behind this little episode is to create an appropriate body, or form through words, sound, rhythm and meter; a form which is capable of carrying the intended content and reaching it to the depths of the listener. The content, if we summarize it, is the nature of the devotion which pervades Shabari’s state of being, the oneness in body, mind and spirit which she has been able to achieve with Rāma. She no longer sees her own self and that of Rāma as separate, they have overlapped. No discrimination or distinction remains, no boundaries divide into I and You. And because this has happened, the only way for her to be absolutely sure of the worthiness of her offering is to taste the fruits herself. The nature of the content is the nature of love, one of the manifestations of love.

Location: Pan India
Story collected by: Bharti Kapadia
Story told by: Grandmother
Image credit: Wikimedia Commons
Devotee Sabari offering fruits to Lord Rama (Statues at Simhachalam, Andhra Pradesh)

Once a girl was born with a curse that she would marry her own son. As soon as she hears the curse, she vows to escape the fate by secluding herself in the dense forest, eating only fruits and foreswearing all male company. But when she attains puberty, as fate would have it, she eats a mango from a tree under which a passing king has urinated. The mango impregnates her; bewildered, she gives birth to a male child; she wraps the baby in a piece of her sari and throws him into a nearby stream. The child is picked up by a childless king of the next kingdom, and brings him up as a handsome young adventurous prince. One day the young prince comes hunting in the same jungle where the cursed woman lives. They fall in love. She tells herself her son is longer alive and she can marry the boy she is in love with. She marries him and bears his child. According to the custom, the father’s swaddling clothes are preserved and brought out for the new born son. When the prince’s swaddling clothes brought out she recognizes her sari, with which she had swaddled her first son, now her husband and understands her fate had really caught up with her.
She waits till everyone is asleep and sings her lullaby to her new born baby:
Sleep
O Son
O grandson
O brother to my husband
Sleep o sleep
Sleep well
She then hangs herself by the sari twisted into a rope.

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Story collected by : Vidya kamat

Location: Karnataka
Source: “The Indian Oedipus” (pp109-136),  by A. K. Ramanujan, Vishnu on Freud’s Desk. Ed by J. Kripal, & T. G Vaidyanathan, Oxford University Press, 1999

A few kilometers before Auroville, between the spiritual vibes and the foreigner-made Goa feel there is a small village with no significant name of its own. Perhaps as a visitor I have not cared to look for the name of the village. But by the side of a sharp turn in the road, I notice this small temple with a lot of idols. They cannot be missed because like in many Tamil Nadu temples, these idols also are painted in enamel colours. These anthropomorphic images are highly impressive with their rose bodies and multi-coloured costumes. I could have regarded this as one of those temples and invested my gaze into the silent wonders of nature around. But what attracts me is the main idol that lies down on the ground under a canopy, with guarding votive figures around it.

By the time I could take the details in my car has crossed the temple. Hence, while coming back I ask the driver to stop at the temple. I get down with my small camera and walk into the premises. I am very impressed by what I have seen there.

The signboard done in flex board says that it is ‘Arassummoottil Sree Ankala Parameshwari Amman Aalayam’. I look at the main idol that lies on the floor. It is the idol of a goddess and I recognize her as a Devi figure. Later researches prove that she is one of forms of Parvati worshipped in the Southern part of India. She is called Ankala Parameshwari. Ankala means Universe. This goddess who rules the universe. And she is in a relaxing posture after she danced to kill. According to the myth of Ankalamman it is said, once five headed Brahma performed a yagna to save men from two demons Sandobi and Sundaran. From the fires of yagna came Tillotama, an apasara who mesmerized the two demons by her beauty. To save herself from the clutches of two demons Tillottama fled towards Kailasa, followed by two demons and Brahma. When Parvati saw Brahma with five heads she mistook him for Shiva and feel at his feet. But when she realized the truth she was angry and prayed to Shiva asking him to destroy Brahma’s fifth head. Thus Shiva assumed the form of Rudra and beheaded Brahma’s fifth head.

Angry and humiliated Brahma cursed Shiva that his head would get attached to his hand and thereby Shiva would be affected by hunger and lack of sleep. Shiva as Kapalika- i.e. one with skull in hand, roamed the earth, slept in graveyards and smeared ashes over his body and started begging for food. Whatever food he would get the skull or Kapala began to eat most of it. Meanwhile Parvati was unable to bear her husband’s misery. She approached her brother Lord Vishnu and pleaded him to relieve Shiva from Kapala. Lord Visnu told her, “My dear sister, go to Thandakarunyam graveyard with your husband and make a pond there and name it “Agni Kula Teertham” then prepare a tasty food made by “Agathi Keerai” mix it with the blood and spread that food around the graveyard. With the smell of blood, Kapala would leave Shiva’s hand and eat the food. Then take your husband to the pond and wash him clean with waters so that Kapala would not get stuck to his hands again.”. Parvati did as her brother said and when Kapala got detached from Shiva’s palms she cleaned him with the water. When Kapala came back to Shiva it could attach itself, but now it attached itself to Parvati hand. She became so furious with anger and began to dance. As she danced she grew in size. bigger and bigger till she covered the universe. In this gigantic form she crushed the Kapala with her right foot. Only then she lay down to relax on the ground to relax.

In this fiercest form which destroyed Kapala, and which came out of Parvati is called Ankala Parmeshvari or more fondly as Angalaamman. Parvati then asked Angalaamman to stay in the same place and serve the people.

Ankala Parameshwari is worshipped in different parts of Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. In some places she is worshipped as a pregnant goddess. And most of the pregnant women from these regions travel to Ankala Parameshwari Amman Alayam for healthy children and painless delivery.

There is a beautiful mutative blend of Shaivite and Vaishnavite cults in this temple. The guarding angles of Ankala Parameshwari are the incarnations of Vishnu. And interestingly most of them are in the female form. So you see a Narasimha moorty and Varaha in female forms. Even the mutations of the cults are shown in the Ardhanareeshwara.

This particular village temple is called Arasummoottil because there is an arasu tree in the premise. And one interesting idol that I find is a small sculpture of a tortoise kept under a tree. And before this tortoise figure there are a row of bricks kept vertically smeared with turmeric powder and kajal. There are yellow threads running around it.
Women constitute majority of devotees in this temple. What interests me is the celebration of femininity and feminine principle including pregnancy as a centre of worship in this temple. Without controversy the transformation of male incarnations are made into female incarnations. This I feel is like a reading of the male scriptures from a female point of view; a sort of discursive cult that challenges the male point of view without breaking much of the ideologies built around the Hindu temples.

 Story Collected by : Johny M L

Source: as told by locals

Location : Tamil Nadu

Near Madurai in Tamil Nadu, at the foothills of a mountain called Samanar Malai by the people who live there is a village called Nagamalai. The mountain is called thus because it houses many Jain caves and Samanar means Jain in Tamil. At the top of the mountain was a temple of Ayyanar Karuppannachami.

When the British ruled India, so the story goes, there was an army general who would regularly visit the famous Meenakshi temple of Madurai and insult the goddess. (There is no record of what he did that but there is unanimity in the belief that he did insult her.) This was unbearable for Karuppannachami. So every time the general made his way to the temple, he would knock him off his horse. Disturbed at this, the general consulted an astrologer who told him that this was being done by none other than Karuppanna Chami of Samanar Malai.

On the astrologer’s advice, the general whose name has been lost to history, brought Karuppannachami from the mountain and consecrated him near the Ayyanar temple in Nagamalai. No sooner than he did this, the problem disappeared. And a grateful general donated large amounts of land to the people who helped him do that.

Before bringing down Karuppannachami from the mountain, the Brahmins used to worship at the Ayyanar temple but afterwards the task was entrusted to the Velars. These people had to come through thick forest to reach this temple from their village Vilacheri and they believed that while walking to the temple from their villages and back, Karuppaannachami accompanied them in the form of a bear for their protection. The Velars gratefully named their children “Samanar Malai Karadi (The bear of the Jain mountain).
The village of Nagamalai however had other problems too. It along with its neighboring village of Keezh kuil kudi lay in a barren area. Famine forced its people to go to other villages for jobs. Two residents of these villages went to Karumathur and worked as priests at the Moonu Sami temple. After the famine when they were about to return , The gods Virumappa Chami and Kasi Mayan of Karumathur asked them to take one fist of mud from their temples to their villages. They took the mud and consecrated temples for these Gods near Karuppannachami of their village. They also consecrated Kazhuvanathan, Karuppayi Amman , Irulappan , Changili Karuppannachami etc as security gods.

Contributor’s bio.
P.R. Ramachander is a retired scientist. Apart from biometrics , he is interested in astrology, translating ancient scriptures to English, Hindu culture, and Story telling.

Last week on Women’s Day, there was the usual outpouring of celebratory messages, whether on the Google doodle or on Facebook or on chain SMSes etc… the world saluting our gender’s strength, creativity, compassion, fortitude. But, as in any other narrative on women, I struggle to find any references to a woman’s ambition that is unconditionally laudatory, without any undertones of prejudice or censure. So whether it is an analysis of ‘grandmother’ Hillary Clinton’s readiness to run for the US Presidential elections or the various headline-grabbing references to Anushka Sharma being the most stunning WAG for the men in Blue (never mind that she is a very successful professional in her own right), the discourse on women seems never to be conducted with focus on her ambitions and goals alone! Probably the only woman in the public sphere who has succeeded in transcending this ‘trap’ is ‘Didi’ or West Bengal’s Mamata Banerjee. Much as I disagree almost entirely with her politics, I have to admire her drive and ambition that saw her realise power on her own terms in a country where women ascend to the ‘throne’ only on the strength of dynasty or marriage or patronage from powerful men (like Jayalalitha or Mayawati). And through these random ramblings on women and power, I am reminded of a singular character from the world of myth, whose assertiveness and formidable will is almost unparalleled in the female cast of Indian mythical characters. For, surely, one of the most unusual and arresting mythic personas in our mythic tradition is that of Manasa, the ‘Snake Goddess’ of Bengal–a vivid expression of an ‘anti-establishment’ feminist ambition and power!

I remember reading, with a mixture of fascination and curiosity, many tales in Bengali about Manasa and her epic rivalry with Chand Saudagar, the latter epitomized patriarchy. He was a merchant prince, who had the power of his gender, of capital and patronage from the most powerful male deity of all, Lord Shiva. Manasa, on the other hand, was a lone ‘woman’ who had command over the netherworld of snakes and serpents and her own unbridled ambition, and with these resources, she waged a relentless campaign for respect and recognition. Somehow even as a child, I realised that in the many versions of this tale that I read, there was often an overt and in some, a subtle tone in the writing, that underscored Manasa’s cunning, her rage, her ambition in a less than empathetic way. The final straw in the narrative is the introduction of Behula- the archetypical ‘Sanskritized’ feminine role model, a woman who will sacrifice everything, including her life, to resurrect her husband, because she becomes significant only as a wife. As long as the myth is a rollicking adventure chronicling the tempestuous turns of the struggle between Chand and Manasa, the audience can still choose to take sides, but the masterstroke of the patriarchy is to bring in the pathos of Behula-Lokhindor into the tale. No sooner is that done, audience sympathy is forced away from Manasa to Behula!

However, it may be topical today as debate rages on in India about women’s security and entrenched patriarchal violence against women, to remember and understand Manasa as a genuine feminist icon. Her myth signifies many anti-establishment profiles:

• A non-Aryan , lower socio-economic class cult struggling for patronage from people while up against upper caste Brahminical prejudices.
• A semi-divine female confronting the established patriarchy, be it the divine Lord Shiva or the temporal capitalist authority of Chand Saudagar.

Manasa raises uncomfortable questions on the role of feminine energy when faced with male power and authority. From her birth, Manasa has had to battle for her dues- Shiva first refused to recognize her, though she is said to have been fashioned out of his seed! She is a great source of energy, but unlike the Sanskrit Mother Goddesses, Manasa’s power has a sharp, vindictive edge! She does not hesitate to resort to trickery, coercion or brute strength to subvert her enemies. And if that is par for the course for and leadership attributes of the great patriarchal male heroes of our Puranas and epics, then why not laud the same in Manasa too?

The other interesting characteristic of Manasa is her independence. She may be born from Shiva’s seed but does not get any support from that illustrious divine lineage. There are references to her marriage with the powerful sage Jaratkaru in the Puranas. But in the principal source of the Manasa legend in the Bengali Manasamangalkavyas(thought to have been composed between 13th to 15th centuries), Manasa is a ‘lone warrior’. She fights for recognition from the ‘Establishment’, personified by Chand Saudagar on her own terms, with her followers (the snakes) and her own resources. She does relent finally, impressed by the steadfastness of the mortal woman, Behula and expresses her power by bestowing the greatest gift of all, life to Lokhindor. In return, she extracts the promise that Chand will be persuaded to worship her (albeit with his left hand). But that’s enough to win her a seat in the pantheon of deities venerated by the ‘establishment’! How refreshing this–the calculated negotiation by a determined goal-oriented ‘Goddess’ who uses her power to extract her dues rather than give it away in selfless benevolence that females are always expected to display.

In today’s Bengal, after centuries of Sankritization, the cult of Manasa survives in pockets but the ‘fighting spirit’ and commanding authority of Manasa has been subsumed in a gentler and more stereotypical deity who is about wish fulfillment for childbirths and prosperity. But maybe the time is right for us to re-appraise the true significance of Manasa. I personally feel it is worth celebrating, nay, even passing on to India’s daughters today, Manasa’s Feminine Spirit and Energy, which is not shy of pursuing self-interest and ambition even at the risk of being deemed too aggressive or unfeminine!

Our society is going through rapid change and in no sphere are the changes as ‘unsettling’ as in the roles and expectations from women. And while men, women, parents, guardians, one and all grapple and come to terms with these changes, it is our daughters, who need to be empowered with the confidence and self-belief that it is all right to choose one’s own path, whatever that might be. And it in this context that Manasa’s untiring quest for her rightful place can be an inspiring role model: choose your goal, whether conventional or ground-breaking and then, unabashedly pursue it and disdainfully ignore those carping voices who think there should be boundaries and limits and curfews and codes to transcribe a woman’s ambition!

RUKMINI GUPTE