Women in the Vedas

I came across this answer about the status of women in Vedic society. It is very detailed, and the author is a subject matter expert on Vedic texts.

However I was intrigued by a singular claim being made in it - that Vedic Society was not patriarchal. So I requested citations for the answer, which the author graciously provided in a comment.

This is my further response to the answer.

Text of original answer	Citations in comment	My observations
Here, we should be speaking of the status of women in society, as reflected in the sūktas of Rigveda in the early Vedic period.  First, the society was presumably patrilineal (tracing lineage through male descendant) one, though not patriarchy.		In your citations you frequently quote the Rigveda, the Atharvaveda and even the Arthaśāstra together, even though their provenance is several centuries, even millennia apart. It sounds as if the culture they describe is contiguous and unchanging across those impossibly vast stretches of time. Is such comparison valid? And then there is the small matter of caste. Whom do these texts represent? Only the Brahmins and their customs? Or Vedic society at large? Do you have evidence? Because unless you prove that the Vedic samhitas are somehow representative of the entire society of that time, you don’t get to make statements about society at large.
Even then, we have some sages identifying themselves with matronymic instead of patronymic, like Dīrghatamas who is known best as Māmateya, or Suhastya as Ghauṣeya. Both mother and father are equally cherished.	Dīrghatamas refers to himself as Māmateya - RV 1.147.3, 1.152.6, 1.158.6. Gautama refers to Dīrghatamas as Māmateya in RV 4.4.13. The sage of RV 10.41 is Suhastya Ghauṣeya, the son of Ghoṣā, as per Rigveda Anukramaṇī. Ghoṣā is his mother, who is the sage of RV 10.39 and 10.40	I fail to understand how usage of matronymics translates to “Both mother and father are equally cherished”.  The correct conclusion would instead be: mother’s name was considered a valid basis for identification of individuals. Which is very cool, but in and of itself has no bearing on whether a society is patrilinear or patriarchal.
This is quite the opposite of absolute patriarchies where “G”od is imagined as father and creating a series of patriarchs in myths who act kings and propagate the mankind. To compare, in many patriarchal Indo European societies, Sky-dad was given more prominence as opposed to the Earth-mother, whereas Rigveda never does this, and whenever possible, addresses both together, in the compound form Dyāvāpṛthivī.	There is no sūkta in Rigveda dedicated to Dyaus Pitar alone, it is always invoking both - the Dyāvāpṛthivī. This is a fact.	Women are represented among deities. Divinity is considered plural, and necessarily bigendered. Impressive. Also less relevant than you think: My answer to "Why is goddess worship important for the world?" TL;DR version: "the Hindu patriarchal impulse to subordinate women is rooted in the acknowledgment that women are powerful... the task for Hindu feminists, at an ideological level, is to rescue shakti from its patriarchal prison" Source: Is Shakti Empowering for Women? Reflections on Feminism and the Hindu Goddess
This also reflects in the idea of daṃpatī (the Mister-Mistress couple) as rulers of home, rather than male.	Dampatī is almost always a dual compound present in Rigveda, that occurs in the sense of “ruling couple of house”.	Co-rulers of the home. Okay. Who has the final say in case of disputes?
	However, as I said in the answer, this is slightly different from other IE cultures where cognate of dam(s)pati is used for “the lord” of the house, and a cognate of “dams-patnī” is used to address a mistress. (Cf. déms pótis)	So does the word damspatni exist in Vedic Sanskrit? What does it mean? Is it also used in the sense of “ruling couple of the house”?
	Aśvins in RV 2.39.2 are compared to married couple taking part in religious rites, Agni is said to be anointed as Mitra (/companion) when he sets together the dampatī of one mind, etc.	So one of the Aśvins just sits around doing nothing but giving consent, and the other one does most of the job? Also the married couple is likewise being compared to a pair of twins. (Analogies are commutative, you know.) What does that mean? What were the “twin stereotypes” in the Vedic age?
Women often had a different world of their own, engrossed in arts - singing, dancing.		Gender roles. Start of the slippery slope towards patriarchy
They also are supposed to handle the ceremonies by custom. (And the adventurous yajña toiling is a male effort with a lesser but very necessary physical participation of females)		This reminds me of a statement in ISKCON’s Heart of Hinduism. Take a look: “the wife’s roles were centred on the home and she was not burdened with contributing towards the family income.” In both the statements, work traditionally associated with men is framed as toil or burden that women are being spared from. What is conspicuously absent from these statements is that the kind of work being described here enable men to have a huge advantage in power. Surely you can’t deny that, can you?
Rigveda also shows women did work like grinding and selling flours to earn their money, as Śiśu Āṅgirasa would suggest in RV 9.112.3.		So women could earn money. Could they keep it?
They also usually looked after household, ruled the husband’s home and protected the livestock.	Ref. RV 10.85.	Again with the home. I’m beginning to worry.
Women are also composer sages of Vedic verses, something we would never have expected in a Bronze age society, with verses being handled down through a primarily male lineage.	Even if we remove the female sages who identify themselves/are identified with legendary females, like those of Vāc Āṃbhṛṇī, the Apālā sūkta, Ghoṣā sūktas, sūkta of Śacī Paulomī are all indeed of female composers. In my knowledge, I don’t know of similar women in Zoroastrian, Greek, Norse or Roman cultures.	Allow me to point you to the Völva of the Norse peoples. Unlike the female sages here, whose existence is not corroborated by sources outside their self-identification, the Völva and their counterparts in other Germanic cultures were real women, who held actual power in society, whose presence was attested by a culture foreign to them (Romans, in this case), and whose gravesites have been found by archaeologists. It seems to me that Vedic culture is the one which has to prove itself.
And they have a high position in the society, as a complement to the masculine part of nature.	In Atharvaveda’s words (which are even used today without knowing meaning in Brahmanic marriages) the husband-wife are compared to Ṛk-sāman, Cakravākā pair, Dyāvāpṛthivī. A complementary vision.	As a complement? Why as a complement? Are not people valuable on their own? Are the men of the Vedic period also solely cherished as being a complement to the feminine part of nature? Like I said you have very low standards for what constitutes a high position in society.
The yajña requires wife of the sacrificer, without which it cannot be done. We might even have an allusion to ruling ladies, as Śyāvāśva’s patron’s wife, or Śacī Paulomī and her daughter.	A well-known fact. Every śrauta and gṛhya ritual needs one to have the consent and presence of his wife, even in classical Brahmanism. Even in the daily aupāsana ritual we perform, the husband asks the wife for consent, and the wife has to respond “please do”, so that the offering is done. This is, unfortunately getting replaced by a “temple-worship” that is heavily male-oriented and gives no role to women. The importance of wife is substantiated in many Rigvedic themes, esp. in the Mudgalānī episode, she recovering her husband through mounting the chariot of yajña (RV 10.102) and driving it to success.	What happens if wife says “Don’t?” Are you trying to argue that the wife is the mistress of the chariot and the man is the charioteer – that the woman is actually in control? Or that she even has control? That was a reference to the Kathopanishad, as I’m sure you’d have noticed. Well unless you’re trying to argue the above, all this tells me is that women’s so-called participation in yajña is mere lip service.
Most often, women appear in Rigveda as lovely, beautiful wives, sometimes as bold, choosing lovers, but one time as “heart-breaker” in the case of Urvaśī who breaks up with Purūravas leaving the latter in sadness.		Relevance?
Women also come as queens, as sages, as protectors of livestock, as speakers in assemblies, as divinities, as mothers, as nurses, as yajamānapatnīs, patrons, as charioteers, singers, dancers and so much more. Overall, the role of women was far better than the classical times.		Not impressed by women as queens – Women in Ancient Egypt Do women also appear as sacrificers/priestesses, yajamanas (as opposed to wives of one), ministers/administrators/clerks/officials (as opposed to queens), carpenters, potters, and warriors? Are they seen holding up half the sky, not in mythology, not in theory, but in everyday life?
Regarding marriages, all the three are recognized - monogamy, polygamy, polyandry. However, both polygamy and polyandry are confined to divinities (Soma mating with waters, or Maruts with Rodasī) in early Rigveda. In later Rigveda, we find a tilt towards acceptance of polygamy as a norm, but monogamy is still the ideal.		So what?
The marriage hymn for example, talks only of a couple as a religiously united one.	The marriage hymn is RV 10.85, celebrating marriage of Sūryā with Soma. In the elaboration of this sūkta in Atharvaveda (which is the foundation of Brahmanic marriages) the pair is compared to cakravāka pair (a kind of geese, known to be very faithful to each other till their death in the culture) along with other complementary one-one pairs. (Ṛk-sāman, Dyāvāpṛthivī)	Again, relevance? What does this have to say for the status of a wife? That she had job security?
This existed even in classical Brahmanism, and thus monogamy was always supported. You could have only one religiously recognized partner in Brahmanism - as a wife, if she with her husband has established the Agnihotra fire, then he cannot marry anyone else. Kings however might not have had a restriction.	Brahmanism was made with monogamy as the ideal, so a person who has married and has established the tretāgni with his wife becomes connected to his wife (whatever he offers is as per her consent and she becomes a part of his own deeds). In most of the dharmaśāstras, mentioning this instance, remarriage for a man is prohibited (unless his wife dies). (Āpastamba 2.5.11.12 for instance)	So monogamy = lack of patriarchy? How?
Mating against will of a woman (even if married or in a relationship) is highly discouraged,	In the verses, it is always “a passionate husband with his eager wife”. (uśatī) The institution of marriage itself exists for this. This is also the position of Brahmanism that bases itself on Vedas. As we might see in Āpastamba 2.1.1.18, which suggests one shall mate only when his wife decides. In Arthaśāstra, Kauṭilya warns several times, “A man shall never have intercourse with a woman against her will”. (Arthaśāstra 4.12)	Marital rape recognised as a crime! Wait, no, it isn’t. Enthusiastic consent is recognised as being ideal. True. But is rape even recognised as a crime? What are the punishments for such an act?
as Urvaśī’s taunting of Purūravas might show. The woman could break-up such a relationship.	In RV 10.95, Urvaśī explains her position that she is walking away from the relationship, by saying that Purūravas used to mate with her who “wasn’t interested in it” (RV 10.95.5, note the term “avyatyai”, “for avyatī”) That a woman could break a marriage where she perceived danger from her husband was true even at the time of Arthaśāstra and even in classical times.	Wait, wait. So Urvaśī is a marital rape survivor? Wasn’t she a “heartbreaker” a few paragraphs back? Which is it? I’m confused. And why is her dumping of a rapist considered “taunting”?
Unwed girls getting pregnant was however, not viewed positively in the society. A girl could love someone and marry her choice in public. But unwed and still being pregnant? Women didn’t want that. Women usually shunned these kids after giving birth in secret. However, Vedic sages stand with such shunned kids and their mothers to an extent, that a regularly praised deed of Indra is that he rescues the shunned son of unwed girl and uplifts him. He also takes birth himself as a shunned son of his mother, but still fights for the honour of his mother.	“Unwed girls getting pregnant was however, not viewed positively in the society.“ “that a regularly praised deed of Indra is that he rescues the shunned son of unwed girl and uplifts him. “ Recalled in RV 4.31.16, and also in 2.13.12, 2.15.7, 1.112.8. “He also takes birth himself as a shunned son of his mother, but still fights for the honour of his mother.” Cf. RV 4.17.	Classic symptom of patriarchy. Pours water all over your matronymic argument. Apparently a mother’s identity is not valid on its own.
However, we don’t see any place where there is thrashing of women or policing of women, though we have quite an interesting request to the bride to not hit her husband and be kind!	Wife is called “apatighnyā”, (not smiting husband) “śivā” (kind) and prayed to be bliss to the biped and quadruped. (RV 10.85.43, 10.85.44) This is even today “recited” to the wife faithfully as is the custom, when she enters the household, although people have no idea of what is in the verse.	This only tells me that violence by women was considered as being especially bad. As opposed to violence by men which was so normalised that it was not even mentioned.
At least some men who tasted failed relationships did exist in Rigvedic period too, and they were afraid of women. :) This is probably enjoyed by Urvaśī as she cold-heartedly dismisses off Purūravas’s request (you would understand her perspective if you see how much Purūravas was obsessed with his manliness and his charm to attract girls before) with a cold remark calling him fool, that long-lasting friendship for him is not possible with women, because women have hearts of hyenas.		Enjoyed by Urvaśī? Cold-hearted? Are these words appropriate to someone who dumped their unfaithful and rapist boyfriend?
(hyenas symbolize self- security, self-sufficience, parenting)	This is the case in Rigveda, especially when Indra himself is shown as a hyena with his thousand cubs in his mouth in RV 10.73.3.	Nice to know.
It is interesting to see that Rigveda has no instance of force afflicted upon women except for Indra’s exception when he fights Uṣas. Conjugal rights were conferred upon women, as we see even in the earliest dharmasūtras of BCEs. It is this right that Lopāmudra evokes to make her ascetically inclined husband realize the worth of a wife in the completion of human existence. This is also the matter related to Mudgalānī, who through being the charioteer of her husband’s sacrifice, revives him. Indra, Soma and even Brahmā sage become women in Rigveda. Whatever the males think of females in that period, all the females in Rigveda are bold and outspoken - they are quite direct, precise.		By conjugal rights I hope you don’t mean the right of either party to demand sex at will. Because that’s just a license to commit marital rape. The fact that women hold such license is not an indicator that the system is not patriarchal. “realize the worth of a wife in the completion of human existence” Not only classical patriarchy, but an example of how patriarchy harms men. “Whatever the males think of females in that period” So it’s not evident is it? Just from the Rigveda. Glad you acknowledge it. How then, did do you make the sweeping statement before? That the society was presumably patrilineal (tracing lineage through male descendant) one, though not patriarchy.
It is not surprising that the vivāha sūkta, the marriage hymn (Rigveda 10.85) that has withstood the test of time, is from a woman’s perspective.	The impression it has on us. Even following the tradition, the sage is also “Sūryā Sāvitrī”. You are free to disagree.	I don’t need your permission to disagree. But thanks. And I do disagree.
Finally, it is interesting to see how in Rigveda and Atharvaveda, the sage specifically consoles the young widow who lies herself beside her husband, and commands her to “return to the world of life, be the mistress of the progeny and legacy left by her husband”.	RV 10.18.8, elaborated in Atharvaveda. Quite opposite to the picture of an “obedient” daughter-in-law, the Rigvedic bride is asked to become the “supreme queen” over her husband’s household (saṃrājñī bhava …, RV 10.85.46). At least Śacī Paulomī’s self-praise sūkta in Rigveda gives a vision of a woman who took pride in her power and success.	Why? Why is a household being treated as a dominion, as opposed to a domicile? Homes and households are supposed to be places free of power struggles, where people live in peace and comfort. They are supposed to be the ultimate neutral ground. What does it say about the society when it treats the home as a battleground?
This is to be specifically contrasted with post-classical India where Satī became a known practice.	Based on whatever I have said as in Vedas and agreeing orthodox Brahmanic scriptures, I have presented my conclusion. I believe it would be an appeal to Presentism to not see the obvious fact that women as envisioned in the Vedas are quite different from what the idea of an oppressive patriarchy demands. Or what became in later India.	Holding human beings accountable to standards of basic decency (the strong not trampling the weak, people having equal rights and opportunities irrespective of their gender, caste or other station in life) should not have to be an “ism”. And it sure as hell is not a fallacy. In fact a refusal to do so either means you don’t think historical people are fully human (Bigotry of low expectations) or that you condone their actions. And while you do know a lot about the texts you have quoted, you don’t know a lot about what patriarchy means. Patriarchy is a system in which society is organised to benefit the handful of men in power, the male gender as a whole, and people of other genders and classes who uphold the system, in that order. It is not defined by oppression, it is defined by power, just as a dictatorship remains a dictatorship no matter how benevolent it might be. I could not find any conclusive evidence in your citations that women wielded any power in the economic, social, legal and religious spheres. The home was their sole domain, it seems, and power in this sphere was also shared, as it should be. Your citations and the corresponding conclusions you draw from them raise a lot of questions, and in many cases actually prove the opposite of your central claim – that Vedic society was not patriarchal.  That it was better than later societies in – wait, which way again? Matronymics – countered by stigma against unwed pregnancy. Marital rape discouraged (only discouraged, mind you) – countered by conjugal rights (whatever they might be). So perhaps you should revise your claims, or at least reconsider them.

Anatomy of a Murder

Humans kill each other all the time. This is not a special or unique attribute. Many kinds of animals kill their own.

But humans also hate killing each other. In this again, we are not unique. Many kinds of animals will not kill their own, and mourn deeply if they accidentally do.

In some societies everybody had a license to kill. In others it was a privilege and responsibility vested only with the state and its limbs – the nobility, the army, the judiciary and sometimes, the clergy. Anybody who did not belong to one of these institutions and still dared to strike upon their neighbour became a murderer.

But in separating murder as a crime from the killing of humans in battle, sacrifice or punishment, we encounter a third impulse which is perhaps unique to humans – the need to emotionally and rationally justify the killing of our own.

This impulse may simply be an expression of our general need for rationalising things. Or it may stem from the cognitive dissonance that occurs when we try to reconcile our innate bloodlust with our innate empathy.

Regardless, as a result of this impulse, the plain act of killing a fellow human being does not determine the morality of a person. Whether it be stories or real life, killers of any kind and creed can be found acceptable, and even heroic.

This phenomenon may or may not extend to transhuman/humanoid characters, be they victim or perpetrator.

A stunning number of classical heroes and deities are renowned and prolific killers of demons, ogres, giants and other sentient non-human humanoid beings. Modern heroes likewise kill zombies and aliens and suchlike with impunity.

The same courtesy is sometimes extended to vampires or the occasional alien who are treated sympathetically despite their human bodycount.

But what does all this mean?

I think it means that we humans are discerning creatures, and we do not consider all similar actions equivalent. That a human life has been lost is not the only point. The motive, the process and the circumstances all matter to us.

Detractors of this point of view claim that such thinking results from, and results in bigotry. That in judging one death to be a tragedy, and another to be a necessity, we effectively claim that some lives are worthier than others.

They are not wrong.

The same kind of utilitarian view is also taken in labelling killers as honourable heroes or despicable murderers.

Inevitably the question arises, ‘Who decides which life is worthier than another?’ The answer to this and other variants of Juvenal’s satirical question is simply, ‘whomever is in power’.

As I've written in my answer to Why should a God resort to violence and war?

The question of justification of a war is raised by four kinds of people:

• The current or prospective belligerents of the war, who are looking for a reason to enter, continue or exit the war. Non-combat intervention, such as through sanctions and embargoes and other forms of influence, also counts as belligerence here. Their criteria for 'justness' is mainly a matter of cost-benefit analysis. 
• The participating public, i.e. the civilian population of the belligerent countries/communities who show their indirect support to the war through funding, etc. Their criteria for 'justness' is basically ideology (patriotism is an ideology). 
• The so-called innocent bystanders, who are affected by the crossfire/aftermath despite not being active belligerents or passive participants. Their criteria for 'justness' is a sort of commonly expected corollary to the Golden rule viz. "we've hurt no one, therefore we should not be hurt by anyone". 
• The analysts who view the war either from a safe distance or in hindsight, analysts like you and me. We can judge a war by any number of criteria - morality, practicality, divine sanction, etc. etc.

Replace ‘war’ with ‘killing’ and you’ve got your answer.

Nevertheless, current opinion dictates that people and fictional characters who kill others for whatever reason should at least show some hesitation or remorse for their actions in order to remain sympathetic to the audience.

I’m not sure where I stand with that.

I am not in any way or form, a pacifist. I do sincerely believe that killing someone is sometimes the only solution, and I applaud the people who take on this difficult job, so that the rest of us can keep our hands and conscience clean. But even so killing people is never the first solution, and that the license to kill, like other forms of power, should only be entrusted with those who truly understand the value of life.

If at all my protagonist is required to kill, I don’t want them to be hesitant or remorseful, but to be careful and introspective, much like Captain Yoo Shi-jin of DOTS.

The truth about Śikhaṇḍi

Śikhaṇḍi is one of the heroes of the ancient Indic epic Mahābhārata. He was the Prince of Pāñcāla, son of King Drupada, and elder sibling of Dhṛṣṭadyumna and Kṛṣṇā Draupadī, conqueror of Kalinga (modern Odisha) and slayer of the Kaurava Patriarch Bhīṣma.

But he is best known for being the poster child of queer characters in Indic mythology. But what kind of a queer character was he? Was he gay? Transgendered? Or something entirely different? Let’s investigate.

In the Critical Edition of the epic, Śikhaṇḍi’s story starts with Ambā, the eldest Princess of Kaśi. This woman was wronged by Bhīṣma, and when all her attempts to avenge herself failed, she undertook great penances to invoke the God Shiva, taking the following oath:

yatkṛte duḥkhavasatim imāṁ prāptāsmi śāśvatīm
patilokād vihīnā ca naiva strī na pumān iha
nāhatvā yudhi gāṅgeyaṁ nivarteyaṁ tapodhanāḥ
eṣa me hṛdi saṁkalpo yadartham idam udyatam
strībhāve parinirviṇṇā puṁstvārthe kṛtaniścayā
bhīṣme praticikīrṣāmi nāsmi vāryeti vai punaḥ

(Udyogaparva, 188, 4-6)

“He for whom mine hath been this state of continuous grief, he for whom I have been deprived of the region that would have been mine if I could obtain a husband, he for whom I have become neither woman nor man, without slaying in battle that son of Ganga I will not desist, ye that are endued with wealth of asceticism. Even this that I have said is the purpose that is in my heart. As a woman, I have no longer any desire. I am, however, resolved to obtain manhood, for I will be revenged upon Bhishma. I should not, therefore, be dissuaded by you.’ Unto them she said these words repeatedly.”

(KMG, Udyogaparva, Section CXC)

The deity was pleased with her penance, and promised her that she would be reborn as Drupada’s daughter, and gain manhood shortly after birth, consequently slaying Bhīṣma. Meanwhile Drupada also had a major grievance against Bhīṣma, and was performing penances to gain a son who would destroy that patriarch. The great deity Shiva appeared in front of Drupada and guaranteed him that he would ‘have a daughter who would become a son’ and kill Bhīṣma in battle.

Therefore when Śikhaṇḍi (aka Śikhaṇḍini) was born, she was assigned female at birth and also knew herself to be female. However her parents chose to hide her true gender and presented her as a boy to the public, pinning their hopes on the divine prophecy. She was raised as a boy, with the masculine name Śikhaṇḍi, and the accompanying masculine gender roles and privileges.

This charade continued until Śikhaṇḍini underwent puberty, at which point her parents reacted by getting her married – to the Princess of Daśārṇa. When the latter found out the true gender of her ‘husband’, she raised a hue and cry about it, which led her father Hiranyavarma to threaten total destruction upon Śikhaṇḍini’s kingdom.

Finding herself at the root of this impending doom, Śikhaṇḍini fled to a deserted forest, contemplating suicide by starvation. Said forest happened to be home of a powerful tutelary spirit (yakṣa in Sanskrit), whom the public avoided at all costs.

Turns out that the public were wrong, and our yakṣa host, named Sthūṇākarṇa, was a very kind person. When he found Śikhaṇḍini fasting unto death he promised to help her, and when she asked for it, he immediately agreed to a temporary gender-exchange – he would take on Śikhaṇḍini’s womanhood, and Śikhaṇḍini would be turned into a man.

Our hero Śikhaṇḍi then returned and presented himself to his irate father-in-law, and the latter sent a number of damsels to verify his gender. Here the text says that they ‘were pleased to report’ that Śikhaṇḍi was indeed a man.

Pleased as punch at this news, Hiranyavarma showered a vast quantity of riches on Śikhaṇḍi. And before returning to his own kingdom, he rebuked his poor daughter for telling tales. The crisis being averted, Śikhaṇḍini happily went back to Sthūṇākarṇa’s forest to give back her borrowed manhood as promised.

Meanwhile the king of the yakṣas, a formidable being called Kubera, came to visit Sthūṇākarṇa with his retinue. But Sthūṇākarṇa was in female form, and too ashamed to show himself. Kubera was apprised of the situation, and he grew very angry at Sthūṇākarṇa for giving away his manhood, calling him all sorts of names. He cursed Sthūṇākarṇa with permanent womanhood, but upon reconsideration he limited the sentence to the duration of Śikhaṇḍi’s remaining natural life.

So when Śikhaṇḍi came in to keep his end of the bargain, he was informed that he was to remain a man for the rest of his life. He was not unhappy with this. He went on to study the various martial arts under Droṇa along with the Pāṇḍavas and Kauravas and became a great warrior, ranked as a mahārathī. Śikhaṇḍi had an equally skilled son named Kṣatradeva, and both of them fought in the great civil war on the side of the protagonists. (Droṇaparva, 9, 59)

In fact, Śikhaṇḍi was so highly skilled that he was Bhima’s original choice for the position of General of the Pāṇḍava Army (Udyogaparva, 149, 29-32). He led the division of Matsya soldiers and fielded important attacks against such opponents as Droṇa and Kṛpa.

Of course his greatest feat was the fulfilment of the prophecy to slay the Patriarch Bhīṣma. In that fateful campaign it was Śikhaṇḍi who covered Bhīṣma with arrows, and here it must be clarified that Arjuna’s role was in fact subordinate to Śikhaṇḍi’s.

Bhīṣma’s refusal to fight against Śikhaṇḍi is explained in his own words thusly:

vratam etan mama sadā pṛthivyām api viśrutam
striyāṁ strīpūrvake cāpi strīnāmni strīsvarūpiṇi
na muñceyam ahaṁ bāṇān iti kauravanandana
na hanyām aham etena kāraṇena śikhaṇḍinam

(Udyogaparva, 193, 62-63)

“Even this is my vow, known over all the world, viz., that I will not, O son of Kuru’s race, shoot weapons upon a woman, or one that was a woman before or one bearing a feminine name, or one whose form resembleth a woman’s. I will not, for this reason, slay Sikhandin.”

(KMG, Udyogaparva, Section CXCV)

Clearly, Bhīṣma was undone by his benevolent misogyny.

And finally, as an addendum to Śikhaṇḍi’s story, here is a comprehensive list of terminology used in the text to describe his gender situation:

1. strīpuṃsa, i.e. one who was both woman and man (several places)
2. strīpūrvaka, i.e. man who was formerly a woman (several places)
3. jajñe kanyā putratvam āgatā, i.e. born a daughter but gained son-hood (Adīparva, 57, 104)
4. yāṁ yakṣaḥ puruṣaṁ cakre, i.e. woman whom the yakṣa created (turned into) a man (Adīparva, 57, 104)
5. sutā jajñe daivāc ca sa punaḥ pumān, i.e. daughter who was born again as a man by the work of fate (Udyogaparva, 49, 32)
6. strīpuṁsoḥ puruṣavyāghra yaḥ sa veda guṇāguṇān, i.e. O tiger among men, he knows the good and bad qualities of both womanhood and manhood (Udyogaparva, 49, 32)
7. kanyā bhūtvā pumāñ jāto, born a woman and reborn a man (Udyogaparva, 169, 20)
8. strīpumāṁs te bhaviṣyati, i.e you will have a child who will be both woman and man, Shiva’s prophecy to Drupada (Udyogaparva, 189, 5)
9. kanyā bhūtvā pumān bhāvī i.e. I will have a daughter who will become a man, Drupada describing Shiva’s prophecy to his wife (Udyogaparva, 189, 7)

Compared to all this Sthūṇākarṇa is described as:

1. strīsvarūpavān i.e. a man with female form (Udyogaparva, 193, 37)
2. evam eva bhavatvasya strītvaṁ i.e. may he retain this womanhood, Kubera’s curse (Udyogaparva, 193, 41)
3. strīlakṣaṇaṁ cāgrahīḥ pāpakarman i.e. one who accepted female attributes that were foreign and unbecoming to him (Udyogaparva, 193, 42)

If you have been following the story keenly, you should have noticed a couple of things

•         Ambā was not dysphoric, she merely sought manhood in order to qualify as a warrior and defeat her enemy in battle
•          By all indications Śikhaṇḍini identified herself as being female, even though she presented as male due to the actions of her parents.
•          Her sex/gender transition was to be strictly temporary. During the period of its effectiveness, it may be assumed (but never confirmed) that Hiranyavarma’s agents had sex with Śikhaṇḍi in order to ascertain his gender. Yet, immediately after this event she is described as female in the text.
•          Śikhaṇḍi can only be said to properly start identifying himself as being male only after his magical transition is confirmed as being permanent. For all this, he does not seem to miss his previous gender. 
•          My description uses female pronouns for Śikhaṇḍini and male pronouns for Śikhaṇḍi, whereas I refer to Sthūṇākarṇa as male even after his transition. This convention is lifted directly from the Sanskrit original.
•          Śikhaṇḍi is described as being content with his gender at all times, whereas poor Sthūṇākarṇa is severely ashamed after his transition

Finally, when we compare the actual terminology used to describe Śikhaṇḍi and Sthūṇākarṇa in the text, it becomes clear that Śikhaṇḍi is not transgendered but genderfluid, and it is Sthūṇākarṇa who was condemned to involuntary transsexuality.

Notice that we have only been talking about the gender attributes of Śikhaṇḍi. What about his sexual orientation? Did it change with his gender?

The correct answer is that we do not know. Yes he did father a son later, but performing heterosexual acts is not a guarantee of heterosexuality.

Other examples exist, such as that of King Bhaṅgāśvana, who fathers 100 sons as a man, and then is magically transformed into a woman by Indra. Consequently in this female form she gives birth to 100 other sons, fathered by a forest-dwelling sage. In this case, the former King had not only performed heterosexual sex in both forms, she later expressly claimed that she gained more pleasure as a female heterosexual, preferring to stay female forever. (Anuśāsanaparva, 120)

When we take all such sources in aggregation we conclude that sexual roles were considered part of the gender role and hence gender identity, and that the notion of sexuality i.e. that a person is permanently predisposed to be attracted to persons of one or more particular gender – is not recognised by Indians either in our texts or practices.

Wonder Woman - Full review

As of now, Wonder Woman has a rating of 8.3 on IMDB, and a 93& fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

I'm here to tell you that it thoroughly deserves a 96% rating. But most of all, I'm going to embody my worst nightmare: I'm going to be that nagging parent who asks, "baki ke 4% kahaan gaye?"

The Wonder Woman of the DCEU is a highly mature individual. Though endued with outward youth and beauty, she was not born yesterday, and that knowledge shows. This movie shows us, in her voice, and from her view, how she came to be.

We follow her, from the present, to her childhood, as she begins narrating. We see her world being invaded, and we see her jumping at the call. We see the reactions of the audience surrogate, as he comes to terms with the reality of her existence. In turn, he tells her about the human condition. Their plan to end the War to end all Wars, their choice of comrades, the villain's reveal - each of these are executed with utter perfection of storytelling and direction. Full marks to all of these.

Just stopping here, one could say that DC had been redeemed, rescued from ignominy, and placed on a moral and practical pedestal way above anything that Marvel has made thus far (except maybe Jessica Jones and Luke Cage).

And then, suddenly, near the very end, the movie inexplicably begins to resemble Captain America: The First Avenger. Uncannily so. The namesakes have near identical endings. It is not a blunder, certainly not unforgivable. And I will go so far (and I hope I am proved wrong), as to say that most of the male audience would fail to see how this was to the movie's detriment.

But from my own POV it explains the "baaki ke 4%".

I loved the moment overtaken by tinnitus. If not for that particular scene the whole movie would have been, as my sister put it, "rubbished", by the choice of the ending. When I came out of the theatre my immediate reaction was one of betrayal, and anger. But calming down, I realised that Patty Jenkins (that's the director) was simply being courteous. Far more courteous than most male filmmakers have been to us (case in point: the Marvel series Peggy Carter. That was well executed, but alas, cancelled.)

Coming back, at the very end the movie brings us back to the present, showing us the Diana who had been transformed by these events.

It is useful at this point to compare Diana of Themyscira aka Wonder Woman with Kal-el aka Superman, especially within the DCEU. Both are superior beings, and not human. Both have parents who say things like "mankind doesn't deserve you", and "Maybe you should have let them die". Both ultimately reject this advice, due to their innate compassion, and the recognition of the simple fact that they have the ability to protect the world. Thus, they both do all they can to help us.

Unlike Superman in the DCEU, however, Diana knows better than to bear the burden of the world alone. She knows how to temper her mercy with justice. She is not a martyr. And that is the single most powerful message that the movie gives us all, men and women.

That we should do our best. But we should not have to be martyrs.

A Wonder Woman movie means a lot for humanity. There is not the slightest doubt aout it. A world in which future parents are told stories where women are normalised, where they are neither worshipped nor demeaned, is a world in which parents don't kill their unborn daughters, who raise their daughters to be all they can be, and who teach their sons how to be humans, not wannabe Gods. In telling stories that are inclusive, that represent without tokenism, we fight the actual disease of which the oppression of women and minorities is a symptom.

This movie, despite its flaws, fits the bill.

Do watch it.

Sita's Superpowers

Citations are in the format (Kanda, Sarga, Verse) and refer to the Critical Edition of the Valmiki Ramayana. 

Assertiveness and political savvy

Sita was first and foremost, a Lady. This means that she was correct in etiquette and used courtesy as her armour, and it also means that she was essentially groomed to rule over people.

Albus Dumbledore said in Philosopher’s Stone, “It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends.” And Sita’s authoritative and commanding personality is demonstrated against friends and enemies alike.

e.g. in (Ayodhya, 27, 3), Sita straight up taunts Rama, calling him a woman disguised as a man (स्त्रियं पुरुषविग्रहम्), because Rama refused to take her with him in exile. This would be thought a pretty big insult even in our times, but in the context of the Ramayana it was a very grievous insult, because the men of the Ramayana were simply obsessed with manliness (पौरुषं).

She also boldly advises Rama to not enter Dandaka (which he ignores, and therefore invites trouble), and her comeback to Rama in (Yuddha, 104) has to be heard to be believed. She also freely and generally orders Lakshmana about on multiple occasions.

And of course, there’s her multiple verbal beatdowns of Ravana. My favourite:

त्वं पुनर्जम्बुकः सिंहीं मामिहेच्छसि दुर्लभाम्

How can a jackal like you covet a lioness like me! (Aranya, 45, 32)

Sita's political savvy is also shown in at least two situations,

1. Her handling of her kidnapping and rescue - see my answer to Why did Hanuman not take Sita with him when he visited Lanka in search of her?
2. Her poise in when she was sneaked outside the city limits by Lakshmana and asked to stay with the rishis (she was not banished) in (Uttara, 47):
   
   यथा भ्रातृषु वर्तेथास्तथा पौरेषु नित्यदा |
   परमो ह्येष धर्मः स्यादेषा कीर्तिरनुत्तमा || ११||
   यत्त्वं पौरजनं राजन्धर्मेण समवाप्नुयाः |
   अहं तु नानुशोचामि स्वशरीरं नरर्षभ | यथापवादं पौराणां तथैव रघुनन्दन || १२||
   
   When the brothers and citizens face bad publicity such a move (separation/estrangement) is prescribed. O King (Lakshmana), when you receive (your share in the kingdom and) citizens in accordance with Dharma, (you will understand.) O bull among men, (for my part,) I will not emaciate myself over the insults I've received from Rama and the citizens.

Words cannot describe the awesomeness of this response.

Magical/Spiritual powers

In the Ramayana (and Mahabharata) universe, spiritual merit can be used to solve problems via various applications.

These applications form a hierarchy as shown in this chart:


Now in Sita's case, she was meritorious enough to use curses, and was able to invoke favours from Agni without external assistance.

In the first case. Sita put up a blade of grass in between herself and Ravana twice - once in (Aranya, 54, 1) and another in (Sundara, 19, 3). It is implied that this was her standard behaviour whenever Ravana came to threaten/tempt her in Lanka. In (Sundara, 20, 20) she informed Ravana that she was more than capable of cursing him to oblivion.

Given the usage of blades of grass as bearers/conductors of Astras in both epics, it is very likely that Sita was also planning to use the grass as conductors for her curses. Further, Ravana, despite having a track record of raping women, threatened to eat Sita rather than rape her. Given that he did not fear humans in general, the only explanation is that he took Sita's threat of cursing him fairly seriously.

[In (Aranya, 54, 19) Sita says that she does not wish to defend her body against imprisonment, injury and death. This is misinterpreted to point out that Sita was not willing to use a curse to defend herself. However in the last line of this verse Sita specifically says that she cannot tolerate dishonour - taken as a whole the verse means that "I do not care if you hurt my body but if you try to dishonour me I will not take it lying down."

Dr Pattanaik grievously misinterprets this same verse as "I am not my body. I will never ever be violated." Not only is this completely contrary to Sita's words, it is horrifically disrespectful to actual survivors of rape and abuse.]

In the second case, Sita invokes the favour of Agni so that fire did not hurt either Hanuman (Sundara, 51) or herself (Sundara, 53) and (Yuddha, 104-6). See also The episode with Agni and Sita. On a completely unrelated note, such invocation of favour from a devata/asura is a technically known as Theurgy.

How Karna was misinterpreted

This post is a companion to my answer to Mahabharata (Hindu epic): Why is Karna so overrated?

Karna's conversation with Krishna - Udyoga Parva, Chapters 138-141

This group of chapters is titled कर्णोपनिवादपर्व (Karna Upanivada Parva), which means "The failed reconciliation with Karna".

In chapter 138, Krishna Vasudeva bluntly reveals Karna's parentage, tells him that the he is in fact a Pandava, the Pandava birthright is his, the other Pandavas, Draupadi, and their sons and kin were ready to do his bidding, and that he should switch sides pronto.

Here Karna's reply is misinterpreted.

Karna uses the word अभिजानामि (abhijanami) which KMG mistranslates as "I know". It actually means "I recognize". The context being that this is the first time Karna has learnt of his true parentage from any source. KMG's translation bungles that up - makes it look like Karna always knew his parentage. It also makes it sound like Karna is actually clairvoyant, which he is not.

So the rest of the conversation reads as follows:

1. Karna realizes that Krishna is speaking in good faith, and accepts Vasudeva's words and interpretations as the truth
2. He recognizes the logic behind his being a Pandava and regrets having humiliated his brothers (but says nothing of Draupadi), but does not recognize them as family
3. He recognizes the Sutas and Dhartarashtras as his true family
4. He recognizes Krishna's might as kingmaker (not as God) and realizes that his and the Kauravas' defeat and death is inevitable, but that does not faze him
5. He says that he was born for the destruction of the earth, along with Shakuni and the sons of Dhritarashtra and he is dedicated to that purpose
6. To that end, he likens the forthcoming civil war to a massive sacrifice for the cleansing of the earth, and sees Duryodhana as its yajamana (performer) and his own inevitable death as the beginning of the second round of said sacrifice
7. If nothing else, he is dedicated to eradicating Arjuna

And here's where there's a difference of opinion. What is Karna saying? Is he

1. an Omnicidal Maniac who is trying to destroy the world (Class 3a / Apocalypse How) out of pure envy OR
2. a self-aware necessary villain who entreats Krishna Vasudeva to let him do his job OR
3. an avatar of a destructive natural force which is Above Good and Evil OR
4. combinations thereof

The text itself goes with options a and c, implying that Karna and Shakuni are manifestations of Time the destroyer. Everybody and the grandfather Himself (Prajapati) says this over and over again - only they use the words Destiny and Time directly.

It is important here to understand that Time's destructive nature is not necessary, it is natural. In the sense that one can't fight it, it's inevitable, but one is not expected to help its cause. Out of envy and other adharmic tendencies, Karna has willingly chosen to help this cause.

Contrast this with Rama of the Ramayana who realizes that destiny has sent grief his way, but as a man (human and male) it is his duty to fight fate (and time) anyway.

This is why choosing option b here leads to some interesting and erroneous conclusions regarding Karna being an anti-villain, noble demon, etc.

---

Karna's conversation with Kunti - Udyoga Parva, Chapters 142 - 144

Here we find some interesting facts

1. Kunti recognizes that Karna is adharmic, and that he needs redemption
2. Kunti asks him to make peace with his brothers and rescue their (combined) birthright from the clutches of Duryodhana et. al.
3. Karna hears from his father Surya, but disregards him
4. Karna flat-out declares Kunti as "the woman who never cared" and refuses to see her or her other children as family
5. Nevertheless, Karna voluntarily promises that he would not hurt Yuddhishthira, Bhima or the twins. Kunti doesn't ask him to, he just does

Why? Is this generosity, arrogance or pragmatic focus?

Earlier in Chapter 108 of the Adiparva we are told that he never refuses supplicants who come to him during his morning prayers. Kunti arrives at exactly this dedicated time. Yet he refuses her actual request, in essence breaking his much-lauded habit and going against his alleged reputation as a danaveera.

So, options:

1. this promise was an attempt to salvage his philanthropy cred without actually sacrificing his real interests
2. he did regret humiliating the Pandavas (except Arjuna) as he said in Chapter 139 and this was his way of repenting
3. he (correctly) realized that the 4 he was sparing were not a threat to him
4. His main contention was with Arjuna alone and he did not want to waste his energies on the other 4
5. combinations thereof

The text itself supports all of the above.

Regardless, many people do misinterpret this as genuine unselfish generosity, which is a trait that Karna never actually exhibits anywhere in the Mahabharata.

---

Yuddhishthira's grief for Karna - various

In Chapter 108 of the Adiparva, we the audience learn about Karna's real parentage.
But the Pandavas and Kauravas and even Karna did not know that. Because nobody told them.

In Chapter 119 of the Adiparva, the Pandavas and Kunti learn that Duryodhana poisoned Bhima. We the audience learn about Karna being one of its masterminds.
But the Pandavas and Kunti did not know that. Because nobody told them.

In the Ghoshayatra Parva, Chapter २३२, Yuddhishthira advised his brothers to join him in rescuing Duryodhana and his brothers (who were justly and soundly defeated and imprisoned by Gandharvas).

Reading the rest of this Parva, we the audience learnt that this episode actually brought the Kauravas very very close to giving up on their hostilities with the Pandavas. In fact, if it were not for Karna and Shakuni's actions at that precise point, the great and bloody civil war would not have happened.
But the Pandavas did not know that. Because nobody told them

When Krishna Vasudeva confronted Karna with his past crimes in Chapter 67 of the Karna Parva, he only talked about his atrocious behaviour during the game of dice, because even Krishna Vasudeva did not know the full extent of Karna's villainy - because he was not omniscient and nobody told him.

And then comes Chapter 27 of the Stri Parva, when Kunti finally breaks her silence, and whispers her secret to the Pandavas (and only them), asking them to perform Karna's funeral rites. After the reveal of Karna's parentage, Yuddhishthira alone grieves for Karna.

In the very next chapters (1-6), which fall in the Shanti Parva, Yuddhisthira learned the secret of Karna's life story from Narada. Narada explained how Karna hated the Pandavas from day one, and how he used his childhood friends, the sons of Dhritarashtra, to further his own agenda of envy.

Narada explained how every single effort on Karna's part was born from his hatred of the Pandavas, especially Arjuna, and his greed for fame and greatness. Because of the gross impurity and baseness of his motives, he naturally encountered curses and other obstacles. Narada advised Yuddhishthira to not grieve for this brother, because despite all wickedness he was a great kshatriya and died in fair battle.

Kunti too reiterated how she and Surya had on multiple occasions tried to bring Karna back to the path of dharma, but had failed and given him up for a lost cause.

KMG's sources were on point in these chapters, and Narada's and Kunti's narration can be read in English here: Santi Parva: Rajadharmanusasana Parva: Section I to VI

In these and further chapters of the Shanti Parva, Yuddhishthira expressed the following sentiments:

1. He marvelled at the sheer magnitude of trouble Karna had caused them, and grieved for the lost opportunity of having Karna on his side, in addition to Arjuna
   
   तेन मे दूयतेऽतीव हृदयं भ्रातृघातिनः |कर्णार्जुनसहायोऽहं जयेयमपि वासवम् ||३८||
   My heart is sorely wounded by that act of fratricide. If I had both Karna and Arjuna by my side I could have conquered even Indra.
2. He revealed that despite witnessing Karna's atrocities at the game of dice, he was mysteriously pacified by the sight of Karna. Further:
   
    यदा ह्यस्य गिरो रूक्षाः शृणोमि कटुकोदयाः | सभायां गदतो द्यूते दुर्योधनहितैषिणः ||४०||
    तदा नश्यति मे क्रोधः पादौ तस्य निरीक्ष्य ह | कुन्त्या हि सदृशौ पादौ कर्णस्य इति मतिर्मम ||४१|| सादृश्यहेतुमन्विच्छन्पृथायास्तव चैव ह | कारणं नाधिगच्छामि कथञ्चिदपि चिन्तयन् ||४२||
   Even as I heard the harshness and fury born of bitterness in his voice as he spoke in favour of Duryodhana in that gathering, having stared at his feet my anger abated instantly. It seemed to me like Karna's feet resembled Kunti's feet. I tried to enquire about the cause of this resemblance to Kunti by various means, but was never able to obtain an answer.
3. He regretted that he had caused the slaughter of many of his kin, including Karna, in order to obtain sovereignty. To that end, he was horrified by his actions, and fully prepared to renounce the world and starve to death. Everybody else (correctly) opposed this line of thinking

Further, by the time we reach the Swargarohana Parva, we see that the extremely patient and forgiving Yuddhishthira has nothing but bitterness left for Duryodhana, whereas he now saw Karna as his wayward (and prodigal) brother, and was extremely pained when he saw Karna in hell.

But what does this mean?

We can see that Yuddhishthira was ignorant/dismissive of Karna's crimes, so he wouldn't have expected to see him in hell. Also, we can see that he was more concerned about having killed a brother rather than just another opponent. That said, is Yuddhishthira's grief a consequence of his own gentle nature or an indication that Karna deserved redemption?

Vyasa confirms the former hypothesis. He says:

एकं हत्वा यदि कुले शिष्टानां स्यादनामयम् | कुलं हत्वाथ राष्ट्रं वा न तद्वृत्तोपघातकम् ||१९|| अधर्मरूपो धर्मो हि कश्चिदस्ति नराधिप | धर्मश्चाधर्मरूपोऽस्ति तच्च ज्ञेयं विपश्चिता ||२०|| तस्मात्संस्तम्भयात्मानं श्रुतवानसि पाण्डव | ... त्वं तु शुक्लाभिजातीयः परदोषेण कारितः | अनिच्छमानः कर्मेदं कृत्वा च परितप्यसे ||२५||
If a clan can be saved by the slaughter of an individual, or a country saved by slaughtering a family, then such slaughter is not a sin. O king, sometimes dharma appears as adharma and vice versa, but the knowledgable can distinguish between them. O learned one, be you consoled by such knowledge... O noble one, your hand was forced by the mistakes of others, you did (wage war etc.) unwillingly and even having done it you torment yourself [as befits your nobility].

Every learned person in the Mahabharata speaks of Karna's sins, but not one of them speaks about his redemption. The rest of the Pandavas don't even waste a single breath mourning for Karna. The fact that Karna is found seated/merged with Surya at the end also draws no comment.

So any sane person would logically conclude that Karna was a garden variety bad guy who was mourned by the overly noble hero. Right?

And yet it is here that we find the greatest example of Alternative Character Interpretation, namely that Yuddhishthira's "love" for his brother would have redeemed Karna, and Yuddhishthira's grief is the result of guilt at his inability to do so.

(full disclosure: I usually subscribe to this kind of thinking)

Does this sound familiar? It should, because it is the exact same attitude that Thor of Marvel Cinematic Universe apparently harbours for his (adopted) brother Loki.

(disclaimer: MCU Thor, Loki, etc. are not to be confused with the actual Norse deities)

The argument here is that Thor has great and nearly unwavering love for Loki as a person (which is true and heartwarming), Loki himself loved his (adopted) mother Freya and therefore Loki is worthy of redemption.

The problem is that we cannot readily extend this argument to Yuddhishthira, because he is not shown as feeling such warmth towards Karna as a person, and Karna clearly felt nothing but hate for the whole Pandava/Vrishni consortium.

Also, the argument itself may not be logical.