Lessons from the epics
I love the epics - the Ramayana, the Mahabharata - and all the hundreds of stories related to them. I love the way in which you can have different versions of them and say, oh, but in this version, Rama doesn’t really send Sita away. The epics have other uses of course - they are the stories that tell us what we (as a people) value, and how people should live.
The epics are in a sense the lessons that our ancestors have passed down to us. How wonderful is it that we should be able to draw on the learnings built up by people over a few thousand years of civilization? Few other peoples in the world today can boast of this. This is the sense of wonder that the epics evoke in me and make me proud to be Hindu - not in the narrow-minded sense of Indian culture is the best and we have nothing to learn from anyone else.
Recently, I gifted my dad a copy of Gurcharan Das’ ‘The Difficulty of Being Good: On the Subtle Art of Dharma’, a book that I plan to borrow. It is a book that (I think) draws on the Mahabharata and places its moral lessons in the context of contemporary times.
Which set me thinking, is there a way to draw lessons from the epics in a more nuanced, less literal way than is normally done? One of the ‘big lessons’ of the Ramayana is that of absolute obedience to one’s parents, a lesson that must cause discomfort to most individuals living in modern times. Dasaratha exiles Rama to 14 years in the forest, in order to keep a pledge that he makes to Kaikeyi years before, and Rama obeys. Without question. Sita follows him into exile, although after much argument.
From a feminist perspective, it is possible to look at this episode as the maintenance of a patriarchal order where son obeys father and wife follows husband (rarely do the epics look at obedience to parents from a woman’s perspective).
Yet, another way to look at it is through the lens of affection. Does Rama unquestioningly accept exile not just because that is a son’s duty, but because of his love for his aged father ? Because that love does not allow him to let his father be an oath-breaker? Does Dasaratha’s own love for his son (which the epic mentions repeatedly) compel its reciprocation? From this perspective, the lesson is not so much about implicit obedience as about the power of love, although the former is what is usually taught us as children.
I have no ‘point’ to this post really, except that it is really possible to read the great epics in many more ways than one.
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Agree with you about “The epics are in a sense the lessons that our ancestors have passed down to us. How wonderful is it that we should be able to draw on the learnings built up by people over a few thousand years of civilization? Few other peoples in the world today can boast of this.” The epics do not just draw on the time frame that they are based on. They were passed on orally through generations until they were finally written down in a concrete form, and this concrete form has the collective wisdom of the people passed down. Even after they were written down, maybe they flourished differently in other parts, by other people. That probably accounts for the many variations in which they are told or interpreted.
Both points of view on the particular incident may be right, but obviously the one that becomes more legitimate is the one which serves the vested interests of the people who advocate it.
I’ll give you an example from the Mahabharata of obedience to a parent from the woman’s perspective. When Arjun won Draupadi’s hand in marriage at the Swayamvara, Kunti was unaware of it. So when they came back, and called out from outside, “See what we have brought,” Kunti didn’t know and told them to divide it equally among themselves. So Draupadi had to marry all five. Now, one could argue about Kunti’s POV. But what about Draupadi’s. She was almost forced to follow the dictat so to speak and be a wife to all five. Did she have a choice? Don’t think so. At the end of the Mahabharatha, she falls along the way to heaven because her fault has been that she preferred Arjun above all other husbands. I think it’s quite unfair. What do you think?
Sorry for the mini-post. I got carried away.
BTW landed here from Art’s blog. First time here, but have heard about you from my Saffrontree friends.
Will be back to read more at leisure.
Check out In Search of Sita. I loved it…a collections very different takes on Sita’s story by many well-known personalities and writers.
Welcome, Sandhya, and thanks for the detailed comment. That’s precisely what I meant when I said ‘over a few thousand years’ - these are living stories, constantly modified by the people who tell them (which is also why the fundamentalist insistence on a ‘right version annoys me).
The incident you’ve narrated - again, that is really not from a woman’s perspective, i.e. not in relation to her parents.(Kunti is not Draupadi’s mother after all). Draupadi is forced to obey her husband (s) and their mother. I would be curious to know if there are any stories that deal with daughters’ responsibilities to their own parents. I can’t recall any.
@ Starry - thanks for the reference; will check it out.
Epics make a good reading material, but I am not sure as to seriously we must take it.
It is a thought provoking article. Even a single sentence or verse may be read and interpreted in many more ways, let alone the 24000 verses of Ramayana. One point I’d like to point out: strangely and ironically, while there may be a temptation to extract the conventional “big lesson” of the Ramayana as implicit obedience to one’s parents (as can be seen by Rama’s impeccable behavior), shortly after, we can also see a striking contradiction in the behavior of Bharata, in not just disobeying his mother’s wish to crown him King, but even public humiliation in refusing the coronation and bringing back Rama’s sandals.
Ultimately, while a “moral of the story” kind of concept may work in the case of Aesop’s fables, in elaborate histories or epics, I would think that to simplify an epic into “big lessons” is simplistic, at best. Of course, there are role models with exemplary behavior like Rama, whom one can aspire to emulate. It is also possible to treat it as a historical narration - which is my preference - where we are told how many people’s interwoven lives consist of actions and decisions in their own contexts/circumstances that lead to consequences for them and others. How one interprets this is perhaps colored by one’s own prejudices, biases, pet theories and insecurities. I guess I’m bringing this up to point out that when you say “rarely do epics look at obedience to parents from women’s perspective”, it is us who are “looking at perspectives”, feminist, patriarchal or otherwise. The epics just are as they are. We may have read abridged versions, translations or seen televised/dramatized productions which may lead us to attribute certain coloration to the epic itself, although clearly that is inappropriate.
On a different subtler point, it is possible to view Kaikeyi as heartless, jealous and cruel just as easily as one can view her as strong-willed (she was not persuaded by Dasaratha’s beseeching her to reconsider her boons), courageous (she saved Dasaratha’s life before) and ambitious (she wanted to become a crown Queen so much that she betrayed her love of Rama, whom she dearly loved, even more than her own son for a long time). This can be portrayed by feminists as one of their own ilk shown to suffer misfortune on account of defying her husband (it is worth mentioning here that he did not have to give in to her insistence, as by virtue of being the King for the entire kingdom, he was her King as well; and that Kaikeyi’s own mother was banished by her father, which may have had some effect of behavior to “not trust men” or fall prey to Mandhara’s words). Or alternately, from an anti-feminist perspective, this can also be portrayed as an example of what happens when a King meekly gives in to the sheer heartless machinations of a young, manipulative and selfish queen, who cared only for her own status to the detriment of the entire kingdom, and ultimately bringing her own disastrous misfortune of estrangement and widowhood.
I was speaking about Kunti being the mother to the Pandavas, who blindly obeyed her injunction of ’sharing it among themselves’, and Draupadi being already Arjun’s wife, had to fall in line with Kunti’s injunction. In fact, when Kunti realises her mistake, and the ‘thing’is actually a bride, she retracts her words, but obedience to her initial injunction was paramount, something even Vyasa could not get around.
I read recently in The Hindu, that Manthara, the much-reviled servant who set tragic events in motion, was actually an embodiment of Ravana’s sins and had manifested to bring about his destructions. It made total sense to me.
I think we have to go very deep to understand the genuine meaning of epics. Superficially, it’s easy to feel it’s not relevant to modern times…but the interpretation can be done in many ways.
@ Chowlaji - is it possible to not take them seriously? I feel these are built into our DNA
@ Srihari - thanks for that lovely, thoughtful comment. I do agree that a ‘moral of the story’ approach is not possible with stories of this complexity. I use the word ‘lessons’ very loosely - and of course, there are many possible lessons one could draw. Very interesting points about Bharata and Kaikeyi - I had not considered the possibility of Kaikeyi as feminist! I would have to disagree with the bit about us looking for perspectives though - the epics were written in a certain time and by men, and there will be an impact of that. Of course, to add to tht, each one of us will also see them through our lenses which to me, does not detract from them. Myths and legends that cannot be ‘owned’ by people in the way they want, will cease to exist or will exist only as ’stories’.
@Sandhya - yes, realized that; what I meant is, few stories about women and their parents.
@Starry - again, interesting story - there is no end to the interpretations of the epics. I would hesitate to use the word ‘genuine meaning’, since meaning is really what we make, but yes, it’s true that the epics deserve a deeper reading, not just a superficial one.
only this morning i was wondering if there were incidences mentioned in our epics where the man stands up for his wife, sister or mother. Ram obeyed his father but can we say that he indirectly stood up for Kaikeyi?we have Sita exiled by her husband Ram,Damayanti supporting Nala, Kannagi fighting for justice when her husband -a cheating one at that- was mistakenly sent to the gallows for stealing the queen’s anklet,Draupadi humiliated in the presence of not one but 5 husbands and thoughit was Yudhishtra who pledged all his possessions including her,the brothers chose to support the brother rather than the wife. .Well all this reflects the status if women and their vulnerabilty at the hands of men be they husbands, brothers or sons or kings.
Recently I heard an interesting explanation for Draupadi agreeing to be wife to five men. She was supposed to be so smart and talented that none of the Pandavas were individually matched to her. All five of them put together were considered worthy of her. Somehow I was glad for her although I wondered why she agreed to such a condition if she was all that smart and deserving.
You are right. Our epics are interesting research tools and evoke interest in all thinking minds
It is said that the difference between a wise man and a fool is that when the former talks, it shows their knowledge, while when the latter speaks, it only ends up exposing their lack of it.
What on earth was that supposed to mean Srihari?
@ Preeti - to do Sri justice, this is my fault! His comment was meant for another somewhat strangely weirded comment - which was also repetitive (it had been left on another post as well). I deleted this one by mistake, instead of deleting the repeated one on the other post.