Sabari's Lesson For Sabarimala

The temple of the bachelor-god Ayyappa at Sabarimala in Kerala has courted controversy recently, but the issue is a longstanding one, and not something unique to Sabarimala either.

[Sabarimala means Sabari's hill. The word 'mala' is a Dravidian one that means mountain or hill. It is not to be confused with the Sanskrit word 'maala' meaning garland.]

The basic issue is that orthodox Hinduism considers menstruating women to be ritually unclean, and therefore they are not permitted to perform religious rites or visit temples when they have their periods. The Ayyappa temple at Sabarimala goes even further in its restrictions. No female between the ages of puberty and menopause is permitted to visit the temple. In other words, the very capability for menstruation is a disqualification for entry.

In our modern world increasingly informed by egalitarian feminist sentiment, it's only a matter of time before such restrictions begin to be challenged, and a chance remark by a temple priest (perhaps quoted out of context) has ignited a furore.

In the social media age, the appropriate hashtag #HappyToBleed has begun to trend. This campaign is to challenge menstrual taboos in general, not just to seek entry for women into the Sabarimala temple.

In the face of such opposition, the head priest at the Ayyappa temple has dug in his heels and stated the bleeding obvious, that he will safeguard the "purity" of the temple even if he has to resign.

However, it's time to ask some fundamental questions.

One does not need to ask the most fundamental question, i.e., why do people feel the need to worship or go to a temple in the first place? Let us accept that that's a bridge too far for many.

If we accept that people have a need for religious expression, then the next question would be whether it is fair to prevent some from exercising that right merely because of some aspect of nature that they cannot control. If a divine Being created human beings, with all of our bodily functions, why would that Being find these functions suddenly objectionable when these humans try to offer worship?

Indeed, there is evidence in Hindu scripture itself that the divine is not so pedantic.

In the Ramayana, the exiled prince Rama (believed to be an avatar of the god Vishnu), came upon an old woman called Sabari (also spelt Shabari) during his wanderings. Sabari offered him some fruits that she had collected, but she only wanted him to eat the sweetest ones. So she bit into each fruit first to taste it, threw away those that weren't sweet, and only offered Rama the ones that were. Rama's brother Lakshmana was horrified, because of the cultural taboo relating to another's saliva. But the divine Rama looked beyond matters of hygiene to recognise the devotion and love of the old woman. He accepted and ate the nominally defiled fruits without a murmur.

Rama accepting fruits from Shabari that she had tasted first.
Moral: God cares more about devotion than about bodily fluids.

The lesson from the parable of Sabari is clear. God cares more about devotion than about bodily fluids. If the custodians of Hindu temples everywhere (including the temple at the hill ironically named after the old woman) learn that lesson, the practice of the religion would align better with its spirit.

From Yashodhara to Jashodaben - The Unsung Victims Of Patriarchy's Noble Heroes

The uncertainty over the marital status of Indian prime ministerial candidate Narendra Modi was finally cleared when the candidate declared in his nomination papers that he was indeed married, and to one Jashodaben (The Gujarati variant of the common Indian name Yashoda). The lady is a retired schoolteacher on a modest pension, who has lived alone or with her brothers ever since her non-starter of a marriage to Modi.

Details of the marriage are murky, but the broad outlines of it seem to be that Narendra Modi and Jashodaben had an arranged marriage when they were both very young (whether it was a child marriage is in dispute). The marriage was not consummated, and Narendra Modi left his young wife to become a "pracharak" (evangelist) for the Hindu Nationalist RSS, since that organisation insists on celibacy for all its pracharaks. He apparently lived in solitary simplicity for many years while he served his organisations (the RSS and its political arm, the BJP), until he finally entered the limelight in 2001 with his elevation to the position of Chief Minister for Gujarat. But even in the 13 years since then, when he was no longer an RSS pracharak and hence no longer under the requirement of celibacy, he did not acknowledge his wife and instead continued to project the public image of a bachelor.

Today, a number of questions are being asked about this behaviour.

To the traditionalist Hindu BJP supporter, such questions are outrageous. The phenomenon of householders renouncing their worldly ties and taking up "sannyasa" (the way of life of the renunciate) is a common one in Hindu culture. It is glorified as a spiritually meritorious act. To such a follower, Narendra Modi's act of walking away from his marriage and his young wife in order to serve his nation was an act of sacrifice that is highly praiseworthy.

Indeed, the person Modi is often compared to in this regard is Prince Siddhartha, one of the most famous renunciates in the history of the subcontinent, who later became the Buddha. One night, while his young wife Yashodhara and baby son Rahula slept, the prince stole away from the palace, and embarked upon his long spiritual quest, which ultimately led him to enlightenment and gave the world a new religion.

In these days of feminist-inspired thought, a few brave voices have dared to ask if the Buddha was a great soul, or a really lousy husband and father. (Similar questions are asked of the behaviour of Rama in the Hindu epic Ramayana).

By all accounts, just as Yashodhara before her, Jashodaben is a model Indian wife, bearing her lot with patience and continuing to pray and fast for her husband's success and happiness, and this is again something that the traditionalists point to with approval and pride. But is it indeed something praiseworthy, or is it a kind of cultural Stockholm Syndrome where the victim does not even imagine herself to be the victim, and even fiercely defends her oppressor?

Indian society is entering a new age, and fresh winds are blowing in alien ideas, ideas that suggest that men and women are equal human beings with equal rights, that marriage is a commitment for both parties, that one party to a marriage cannot unilaterally decide to end it without some form of compensation to the other, and so on. These ideas may infuriate the traditionalist, but they are here to stay.

After the horrific Delhi rape of December 2012, and the continuing cases of rape and molestation all over the country, popular attention has focused strongly on the treatment of women and the root causes of it. Patriarchal attitudes are increasingly acknowledged to be the real cause of women's poor status. This is a culture that makes a show of treating women as goddesses or as mother figures, but balks at treating them as equal human beings. 

Indian governments at both the central and state levels are increasingly expected by a young and idealistic nation to exercise modern, progressive value frameworks to make decisions concerning women rather than the feudal and patriarchal ones of traditional Indian society. In this situation, a potential prime ministerial candidate who has exhibited the classic patriarchal lack of concern for his duty towards his wife is cause for worry. How will his government prove responsive to the concerns of women when the person who should be waving to the crowds at his side remains consigned to the shadows?

One thing is clear - Modi will find in the days ahead that the 2002 riots are not the only uncomfortable topic that he will be questioned on.