Monthly Archives: April 2019
Opinion: Marriages not made in heaven
- In the 19th century, sambandham, an informal mode of ‘marriage’ in Kerala, allowed the elites to join in mutually beneficial unions
- The arrangement made room for inter-caste unions, with its dynamics determined mostly by economics
Around 1881, a prince of Cochin called Rama Varma got into a relationship with a 16-year-old girl. He had lost his wife and the new connection was with the stepdaughter of one of his uncles (who, like him, would one day sit on the throne). The girl, Rama Varma wrote, “had a regular husband and I proposed to become paramour to her”. And as “the husband raised no objection…it was done so. This kind of things (sic),” he added, “was not considered improper at the time.”
In fact, on the contrary, his mother was thrilled, though rivals did complain he only entered the alliance to butter up the girl’s father. After all, as Rama Varma admitted unkindly, she “could not boast of anything which may be called beauty and…had nothing which might be considered accomplishment”. It was not surprising, then, that some in the family viewed his interest with suspicion.
As it happened, the relationship did not last, and soon Rama Varma was involved with a third lady, with whom he shared a lasting union, the previous lady presumably continuing with her first husband. But what made entering and exiting relationships a matter of ease was the nature of the marital tie itself in 19th century Kerala. For non-Brahmin matrilineal groups, it was the bond between brother and sister that was sacred, not that of husband and wife. The sexual tie was called sambandham—relationship—and designed with much flexibility. Rama Varma’s mother, for instance, was a princess of Cochin, and, in keeping with the traditions of her own dynasty, had formed a sambandham with a Brahmin. Such Brahmins were junior sons of big houses. But they had no inheritance, which made the prospect of alliances with aristocratic ladies and royal women most attractive—and often remunerative.
At its core, sambandhams allowed the elites to join in mutually beneficial unions. For Brahmin families, it gave younger sons wives of lower caste who made no claim on their patrimony—if these wives were well-born, it was better still, for they could pay the Brahmins a maintenance. For matrilineal castes, meanwhile, power and wealth vested in the female line—the husband was, in essence, an instrument of procreation. If he came from a higher caste, he “infused” their veins with the prestige of twice-born blood. The dynamics within this broader framework were, however, determined by economics.
As Matampu Kunhukuttan’s classic novel Outcaste portrays, Brahmins with royal sambandhams often lived in fear that their wives might discard them and opt for new sambandhams; elsewhere, if it was the man who held power, he could access even married women, as we saw with Rama Varma, leaving the female at a disadvantage.
It was not unknown for men and women to have multiple sambandhams—a fact that recently got politician and writer Shashi Tharoor in trouble when a line from his novel was cast as an “insult” to Nair women.
The examples are numerous. The Nair wife of the maharaja of Travancore who ruled between 1860-80, was first married to a Kathakali actor—arriving in Thiruvananthapuram, she met the ruler, and soon the actor was jettisoned. Their daughter was in a sambandham with the maharaja’s nephew—when she died in 1882, the latter lamented his “irreparable” loss. It was 17 years before he entered into his next sambandham, this time with the wife of a palace employee. As in the case of his uncle’s partner, this lady too relinquished her previous alliance to become the ruler’s consort. The author C.V. Raman Pillai, meanwhile, married his late wife’s sister, whose past featured threesambandhams—two terminated by death (including with the painter Ravi Varma’s brother) and one by separation.
By the late 19th century, however, sambandhams were increasingly frowned upon, and the question of whether this was even marriage came under scrutiny. Missionaries saw the system as “very revolting” and the absorption of Victorian morality upset old ways of life. From Madras, newspapers piled criticism on this “obnoxious system of promiscuous marriage”, and, as the scholar K. Saradamoni writes, “Sambandham was equated to concubinage and the women to mistresses and the children called bastards.” It was an awkward moment, for this way even maharajas were illegitimate, while the autonomy women enjoyed was translated as licentiousness. As early as 1875, in fact, the non-Malayali writer of a census report was most apologetic about the “looseness of the prevailing morals and the unbinding nature of the marriage tie, which possesses such fascination for the majority of our population”.
Scholars like J. Devika have shown how the onus fell on women: They had to be “virtuous”, which meant divorcing and keeping multiple husbands was no longer “respectable”. Inter-caste unions between Brahmins, royalty and Nairs ceased to be acceptable, and “reform” movements sprang up in each community to restrict women’s choice of spouses. Widowhood, a non-existent concept for matrilineal groups, became a mark of wifely honour. And with this came the policing of women’s bodies and the injection, through education, of a patriarchal mindset, where daughters were raised to be “good wives” and husbands vested with power over them and their children. Sambandhams became the vestige of an ugly past, remembered with embarrassment—and, sometimes, denial.
Sambandhams certainly could be abused. But, in their day, they served a purpose and defined marriage for the people involved. They could also feature great love stories—this columnist’s great-great-grandmother had a sambandham with a Brahmin in the 1880s. When she had a stillbirth, however, the alliance was terminated: The baby was a girl, and the death of a female child was inauspicious in her matrilineage. The Brahmin wept and protested but was never allowed near his ex-wife again. Decades later, the story goes, his steward showed up at the door: The man was dying, and he wished to see his former wife one last time. But the lady did not go. Not because she did not wish to, but because the year was 1915. The world had changed and she had no power—she had married again, and it was her husband who now called the shots.
Medium Rare is a column on society, politics and history. Manu S. Pillai is the author of The Ivory Throne (2015) and Rebel Sultans (2018).
He tweets at @UnamPillai
source: http://www.livemint.com / Live Mint / Home> Explore> Medium Rare / by Manu S. Pillai / April 19th, 2019
20
19
Bridging the past and the present
KV Seshadrinatha Sastrigal | Photo Credit: Special arrangementt
The multifaceted KV Seshadrinatha Sastrigal believes that learning of Sanskrit is important to understand the crux of the Vedas, Ayurveda and the best of Indian philosophy and culture
KV Seshadrinatha Sastrigal, 85, is a traditionalist, for whom tradition refers to customs and ceremonials by means of which the past speaks to the present. Traditions, for this scholar, relate allegiance to authority, storing up as they do the sedimented wisdom of earlier generations. But what makes Sastrigal different from a whole clutch of scholars in Sanskirt, Vedas and Sastras is his contemporary and radical perspective.
Sastrigal understands that Sanskrit, the language through which, for thousands of years, ancient traditions and knowledge were passed on from generation to generation, has been marginalised, diluted and reduced to a pitiable state. Yet, he refuses to believe that the language can be erased.
In an effort to establish, develop, propagate and bring out the need for retention of Indian culture through the ancient texts, he formed a Trust, Veda Samrakshana Nyasa, in 1984, while he was in Chennai. Now, he has formed a new team for developing this idea in Kerala. Sasthrigal has established a Veda Padasala in Kalady, Ernakulam district, where around 24 students are studying Yajur Veda and Sanskrit. In addition, many others visit him to seek wisdom in this ancient language and the texts of knowledge. Sastrigal was honoured with the ‘Mahamahopadhyaya’ title by the Government of India, the first scholar to receive this title after Independence.
Macaulay, whom we call the father of our modern Indian education system, in his historical speech in the British Parliament, clearly indicated that the ancient system of Indian education needed to be dismantled. This, he considered, was the backbone of the country, its spiritual and cultural heritage. And he achieved the goal of eliminating Sanskrit from being an essential part of the Indian education system.
“That is history. So many foreign powers came to our land and brought with them their languages. But Sanskrit was not attacked. When the Muslim rulers came to India, Sanskrit was allowed to flourish, the beliefs were not touched. But everything changed when the British came. English was injected into every Indian brain; Sanskrit was pushed out of our thinking, our intellect. Along with the language they uprooted out culture and threw it away,” says Sastrigal, a renowned Vedic, Sanskrit and Ayurveda scholar and former Principal of Madras Sanskrit College.
Sastrigal refuses to believe that Sanskrit is a ‘dead language’. “Unfortunately, many consider it to be a Hindu language and, therefore, not inclusive. Ninety-five per cent of Sanskrit literature has nothing to do with religion. You cannot kill this language, it is alive, the Vedas too.”
Learning of Sanskrit
There was a time in the past, says Sastrigal, when everyone, irrespective of caste and religion, studied Sanskrit. “Even girls studied the subject; I can point out so many instances recorded in our texts about this. Plays were written in Sanskrit and were they only for the Brahmins? No, because if there were no people to understand and appreciate these plays, they would not have been written and staged.”
Sastrigal also exhorts us to look at what happened towards the end of British rule and post-Independence in our country. The truth is that British scholars started learning Sanskrit, translated the ancient scriptures and documents into English even while they started a propaganda claiming that Sanskrit was a dying language. “At the same time through efforts of scholars like Max Mueller, Sanskrit was being introduced in almost all universities in Europe.”
Born in Kuzhalmandam, Palakkad, on June 20, 1934, Sasthrigal was a Vedic student at Nurani Vedasastra Patasala from 1944-1954. “Like so many landowning communities, my family was also forced to migrate following the enforcement of the land reforms act that abolished the tenancy system. We moved to Madras [Chennai] where I continued my studies and where I still live.” Sastrigal completed his graduation (Sahitya Shiromani) in 1959, winning the Presidency gold medal. He went on to complete Sahithya Vidwan course, passed the Vedanta Shiromani, Ayurveda Shiromani and Ayurveda Vidwan courses. He then did his research in Chithrameemamsa Vakyasudha under Dr V Raghavan, delving into the depths of Malsyapurana. For a while he was an Ayurveda medical practitioner, taught at the Venkitaramana Ayurveda College, Chennai, and was Principal of Madras Sanskrit College for 10 years.
“My association with Dr Raghavan opened new doors and helped changed my outlook towards these subjects. When I came first to Madras Presidency for Shiromani, he was pleasantly surprised. At that time I used to work for him at his house. He told me to join the university and begin my research. It was he who instilled in me that interest. He was a hard task master, made us work a lot but we enjoyed working. I was with him for nearly 10 years.”
Talking about his research subject, Malsyapurana, Sastrigal says that it was not just on the Puranas but more on the theory of evolution. “My only complaint is that people today ignore and discard the Vedas and Sastras even before trying to understand them. Can’t they at least listen, read and understand them before coming to a conclusion?”
A lot of scholars seek Sastrigal’s advice on Sanskrit, the Vedas, Ayurveda and even astrology, but though he swears by Ayurveda he considers astrology as a subject with no known source. “Ayurveda is an ancient system of medicine. It is a general philosophy of health and wellness. It talks about proper diet, exercise, sleep, hygiene, and, of course, the use of herbal preparations. Like most traditional medicine systems, Ayurveda was developed and refined over thousands of years, through observation and experience. The term itself means the science of life. But astrology is not a truth. There is no specific mention of astrology in the Vedas, only astronomy is mentioned. For me, astrology does not exist.”
It is important to understand, says Sastrigal, though the practices of astrology and astronomy have common roots, there is an important distinction. “Astronomy is the study of the universe and its contents outside of Earth’s atmosphere. Astronomers examine the positions, motions, and properties of celestial objects. I do that. Astrology attempts to study how those positions, motions, and properties affect people and events.”
New projects
Veda Samrakshana Nyasa in Kalady has ventured into many projects with the advice and leadership of Sastrigal. A website (www.vedanyasa.com) has been created that offers information about Indian culture and traditions, the Vedas and Dharma Sasthras. Digitalisation of various ancient books and treatises on Ayurveda, astronomy, Vedas, etc., which will be made available free of cost to any user, publication of vernacular versions of these works, training and counseling sessions on lifestyle, food habits etc are some of the other projects that the organisation has on its anvil.
“Sanskrit is the greatest language in the world. And if it is taken away from the life of the masses of this country, a light would be gone. The distinctive features of a rich culture will be lost. I have very little time left. My efforts are to educate the present generation not only on the Shodhasa Samskaras (Hindu traditions) but also the Dharmasastras, which can help them mould their life free from all sorrows, pains, difficulties and given them peace of mind,” says Sastrigal.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Society> History & Culture / by K. Pradeep / Kochi – April 18th, 2019