There is a rare story in the Virataparva of the Mahabharata. Bhimasena tells this story to Draupadi after killing Upakeechakas. A woman named Shiromani is the wife of a sage named Devarata. She is very beautiful and very devout. A rakshasa (ogre) falls in love with her beauty and tries to somehow kidnap her and marry her.
When Devarata is not at home, the rakshasa comes in Devarata’s disguise and abducts her. He keeps her imprisoned on a far-off island. Although scriptures sanction the rakshasas to abduct women for the purpose of marriage, the consent of the abducted woman is mandatory for marriage. (This can also be noticed in the story of Sita’s abduction by Ravana in the Ramayana.)
So, this rakshasa tries desperately to convince Shiromani to give her consent to the marriage. She refuses. Finally, the rakshasa loses patience, and one day, defying all statutes, he attempts to impose himself upon her. Infuriated by his insistence, Shiromani declares a curse: “May my vagina become stony to prevent him from entering it.” Being a gurupatni, her curse has the power to affect reality. Immediately, her vagina becomes stony. The lust-driven rakshasa cannot continue and is frustrated. Enraged at this failure to consummate, he beheads Shiromani with a sword. Even though Shiromani’s head fell to the ground, I feel, there must have been a smile of victory on her face. Shiromani, with her power of the curse, could have wished for the rakshasa’s penis to turn into a stone. But instead of the clichéd other punishment, she chooses to punish her own body. Self-violence is a more severe shock to our adversaries than the violence meted out to others. This rakshasa had to live with the shame of being defeated by a woman for the rest of his life! I often feel that all our women should have had the power to curse, for at least then rapes would stop in this world.
Sometimes there are those who attempt to realise their desire by brandishing suicide as a weapon. Recently, I encountered such an episode in a counselling session. The boy was not out to his parents yet. He didn’t have the courage to. Instead, he kept on postponing his marriage by giving some excuses. As he had already crossed the age of 29, his parents were naturally concerned. This boy knew very well the life of a gay person; hence, he didn’t want to ruin the life of an innocent girl. He had indirectly informed his parents that he was not fit to marry a girl. His parents were upset about his refusal to marry. “If you don’t get married, both of us will commit suicide. You can live a happy celibate life on our dead bodies.” These were the threats he received from his parents. Perturbed by this “emotional blackmail”, the boy came to me for counselling. After learning the details, I asked him a question.
“Do your parents love you as deeply as you love them?”
“Sure sir. They love me more than their own lives.”
“You know that marriage will ruin your life. If you marry now to appease them, have you considered what your situation would be in the future?” I asked. He thought for a while and asked, “It would be suicidal for me, wouldn’t it be, sir?”
“Do you have the courage to tell them now, then?” I asked him. My words made an impact on him.
When they were apprised of the matter, his parents got into a rage and scolded him but eventually they cooled down. They had stopped using suicide as a threat. This boy now has a smile on his face. Where there is selfless love, neither party can tolerate self-harm. But I have another worry. Though in this episode the parents yielded, there can be cases where parents, with the hope that their son will eventually overcome this and become ‘normal’, might insist by saying, “You get married first. We will take care of the rest later!”
My father had recounted a horrific case of resistance through “self-harm”. It was something he had witnessed in his childhood. It was the story of a Brahmin family some 80 years ago. Although the name of that pretty girl was Godavari, everyone used to call her Godoo. She was admitted to the school by her father, though the villagers were against it. She became obsessed with her studies. No one could distract her from her studies until she reached the eighth grade. But for her bad luck, she “grew up”! Her father began to worry about her marriage. Godoo pleaded with her father to let her study for a few more years and not marry her off till then. Her father felt for her, yet at the same time he was afraid not to arrange the marriage of a daughter of menstruating age. What would the others in the community say? He arranged for Godoo’s marriage. Godoo’s studies were discontinued. It is believed that those named after rivers shed tears like river water. As if to prove such a belief, her husband died of a snakebite a year after their marriage. The tradition required that the widow’s head be shaved off, that she be dressed in a red saree, and that she live an ‘invisible’ life. Her parents were grief-stricken. The priests, taking pity on them, suggested that, as she is still a little girl, she may keep her hair for one year. But Godoo vehemently opposed it! She insisted on calling the barber home, shaving her head on the tenth day, and wearing a red saree. She stood in front of her parents with a big smile on her face and offered them a glass of milk each, saying, “Now both of you must be happy. Drink this milk till you are fully satisfied.” This conduct became a tradition with her, and every time she shaved her head, she would stand in front of her parents and, pointing to her shaved head, tell them, “Are you happy? Am I not looking good?” and offer them milk with a big smile on her face.
Not all smiles are happy smiles!
(Vasudhendra is Kannada literature’s first openly gay writer and often says that he is “neither left nor right and not even straight”. The text has been translated by Kamalakar Bhat, a noted Kannada poet who has worked extensively in translation.)