amaryllis (/ˌæməˈrɪlɪs/[1]) – bears the name of the shepherdess in virgil's pastoral eclogues. it stems from the greek ἀμαρύσσω (amarysso), meaning "to sparkle", and it is rooted in "amarella" for the bitterness of the bulb. the common name, "naked lady", comes from the plant's pattern of flowering that blooms when the foliage dies. in the victorian language of flowers, it means "radiant beauty".
One of my favourite interpolations from modern tellings of the Mahābhārata is a conversation between Draupadī and Kṛṣṇa that occurs after Draupadī’s sexual assault and attempted disrobing by the Kauravas.
Clutching his feet, Draupadī sobs: “Govind, why? Why did this happen to me? What sins did I commit? I am reaping the fruit of which actions of mine?”
Picking her up and caressing her hair, Arya tells her: “What happened was neither because of your ‘bad’ karma, nor did you reap the fruit of your past actions. It was the Kauravas who reaped the fruit of their past actions by engaging in such a grave misdeed. Sakhī, this is the meaning of karma.”
“But I am the one experiencing agony, Govind.”
“Then relinquish it, Sakhī. Although what happened was not the result of your ‘bad’ karma, the way you transform following these events will be your karma.”
This is such a beautiful and profound exchange which offers rich nuances to the teaching of karma. Oftentimes, when events we perceive as terrible happen to us, we create a story of unworthiness around them; we wonder if we are being punished, if the root cause is our evilness, if God or the universe are rejecting or dooming us. A question that rests on these lines that is often asked would be the common: “why do bad things happen to good people”. A first layer to this, in my view, is a deconstruction of ‘bad’ and ‘good’ as solid concepts. The second layer is the understanding that any event ‘just’ happens aleatorily, rises and falls, and karma is not a simplistic cause-effect reaction.
Karma encapsulates, in my understanding, the ingrained patterns held within us through which we act, react, and process the world around us and the events that occur in our lives. There is freedom from karma in finding new ways of reacting, engaging, processing.
Finally, a significant teaching encased in this interpolation is that the way someone treats us, ultimately, is a reflection of their karma (ingrained patterns), and not a reflection of our ingrained patterns. We cannot control another’s patterns, but we can aim to understand and rewire ours accordingly.
knowledge flows from teacher to student, and from student to teacher.
at the beginning of my academic journey, i was continuously surprised by the way the majority of our professors engaged with me and my colleagues; not only did they genuinely express interest in our opinions, but they also valued our input, ensured the openness of dialogue between us, and consistently encouraged us to become independent in thought and in writing. the learning environment i had been exposed to until then, namely secondary education in my home country, had been completely different: it had been one of strict hierarchy, in which plurality of thought was not existent, and in which the minds and experiences of students were not valued. it took me awhile to become used to – well, being valued, and to valuing my input myself.
i remember one particular exchange i had with a professor of mine, in which i expressed my understanding of one subject and proceeded to reflexively dismiss it by cloaking it in the “i am just a student, and who am i to say anything about this” garb. my professor stopped me and said something along the lines of: “yes, we are just people. but that doesn’t mean our contributions can’t be meaningful.”
the first week of my Ph.D. was similar: professors consistently reminded me and my colleagues that we are more than students, and they see us as valuable members of a research community that works together. they encouraged us to renounce our inhibitions, and to think, write and act as such.
it has become exceedingly important for me in my journey to be in such learning environments in which, past the roles of students and teachers that we play, there is an understanding of the flow of knowledge, which, in my view, would be limiting to think of as flowing rigidly in only one direction. knowledge flows from teacher to student, but also from student to teacher, and from student to student. i believe that to cut oneself off from receiving the flow from any source because of preconceived ideas of how it flows, and who to learn from, is a great loss.
sometime ago, i had a great conversation with my dear friend Avi Sato about how these same principles of knowledge flow apply in the area of spirituality as well, nuance which had long eluded me.
my second Master’s Degree is officially COMPLETE!! these past two years at Warwick University were a rich immersion in the art of poetry & in the practice of literary translation. milestones achieved have been:
completing my dissertation, entitled “Rendering Sacred Texts: Ethics and the Question of Untranslatability”, in which i explored the practice of translating sacred texts and the intricate issues it presents in the field of translation studies, mainly posed by the dilemma that is the hypothesis of an intrinsically sacred quality to languages such as Sanskrit or Latin. i argued that in the case of non-dual traditions, the subsequent question, of whether translation would defile the text, is incongruent with the philosophy & cosmology the text is rooted in. i used the Lalitāsahasranāma, a central hymn of Śrīvidyā, as a case-study.
conducting my poetic research centred on bhakti or devotional poetry, a genre of Indian poetry which worships the Divine as the Beloved. i worked on two bhakti collections: “odes to the Monsoon One” and “the Monsoon One and the pilgrim”, which explore a woman’s mystical journey. written as a response to the lingering legacy of female exclusion from spirituality that is present literature, the poetry rebels against misogynistic religious texts thematically, through female-centred imagery deifying the demonised body, through the subversion of elements of oppression such as motifs of marriage. the Divine is worshipped in my poems as a lover. i argued that for as long as remnants of a religious culture exclusive of women persist in South Asian literature and practice, for so long will bhakti poetry be needed for devotional rebuttal.
more on this soon! i am hoping for these to be published in 2024 or 2025.
i extend my gratitude to my extraordinary professors: my supervisors Dr. Jodie Kim & Rosalind Harvey; Professor David Morley, as well as Dr. Chantal Wright, who generously & expertly encouraged and guided me, as well as expressed genuine interest in my work – interest which i especially appreciated when my work took unconventional routes!
as this chapter ends, a new one at Edinburgh begins! onward!
In response to the article about Draupadī’s disrobing that I shared yesterday, Jim beautifully questioned whether the act of violence spurred from limited views around nudity and if it would have been avoided if nudity was perceived differently in that society (if it was common, seen as sacred or normal). This was a very rich ground of contemplation for me, and the reflections I have had are the following:
First, I would like to establish that Draupadī was not wearing a sari when her attempted disrobing took place. She was wearing a single cloth which covered her body through which she was menstruating, which was the custom at the time. It can be deduced through various references toward her appearance found throughout the Mbh that, outside of the timeframe of her menses period, she did not customarily wear an upper garment, so her breasts were uncovered. At the time of her attempted disrobing, she was wearing more clothes that she usually was. The men had already seen part of her body which they wanted to disrobe. There are scholars who argue that she was not wearing a single cloth at the time of her disrobing and she was instead wearing both an upper garment and a lower garment. I would argue that this is irrelevant, as the point still remains that her breasts were covered, and they usually were not.
Second, I would maintain that, the disrobing episode, as most acts of sexual violence, was more about power than about sex or nudity, and that the key factor here, lost in so many adaptations, was not the attempted disrobing & possible nudity, it was the fact that Draupadī was menstruating, and she was brought to the royal hall in a stained garment through which she was free-bleeding. Menses was / is considered a period of purification. The act of dragging a menstruating woman by her hair to the royal hall – who, as I priorly mentioned, was wearing more clothes than usually – is exceedingly violent & cosmologically destabilising especially because it disrupts the menstruation ritual of purification and it does not allow it to be finalised. Further, hair in itself is a symbol of sexual power for a woman. Duśāsana grabbing Draupadī’s hair is an attempt to curb her sexual power and own her sexuality.
Draupadī bleeds in the hall and leaves Hastinapura bleeding through her clothes. Scholar Alf Hiltebeitel argues that it was the dishonouring of her blood that held in itself the requirement for it to be paid with war; with bloodshed. In the cosmological cycle, blood pays for blood.
The Kauravas wanted to humiliate, own and disempower Draupadī; nudity was one of the means to get there, along with disturbing her purification rituals, not the end goal. However, one could argue that in a society in which nudity was seen as sacred the intention to humiliate wouldn’t have arisen in that openness or expansion of consciousness – but maybe it would have just taken a different form and found different means.
Photo: Pooja Sharma as Draupadī, bathed in the blood of her principal offender. The cosmological cycle is finalised.
various feminist scholars have accused the Mbh of misogyny and of not expressing the female experience in depth, claims which i would heavily disagree with. i will unpack my arguments in further videos, but the angle that i want to present today is related to my previous video, in which i talked about how all perspectives are contained within the Mbh, and it itself states so. i would like to offer the perspective of the Mbh being a dialogue, which i learned while studying with Dr. Brian Black at Lancaster University during my postgraduate degree.
🌸 what kind of dialogue? between its characters, between different ways of life, different perspectives, between us, the audience, and the epic itself; it does not have an inherent opinion on the characters presented there: everything we learn is from someone’s perspective, either the narrator of a particular story, or the way characters relate to each other. so, are there misogynistic perspectives in the Mbh presented by certain characters? yes; as, similarly, there are misogynistic takes in the world today. the Mbh is more like a neutral observer, i would say; it does not uphold certain views, it merely documents them and invites you to contemplate them, absorb or challenge them.
because dialogue relies on context, it is very important to understand the context of an event in question to understand its nuances.
to demonstrate this, i will use an episode from the Mbh in which Yudhiṣṭhira expresses a misogynistic comment. this happens in the 13th parva; in a conversation with Bhīṣma, Yudhiṣṭhira asks him in an exasperated manner, why are women so deceitful and hard to please? (13.39) context: the war ends, and Draupadī’s sons are unlawfully slaughtered during a night raid. Yudhiṣṭhira faints when he hears the news of his dead son and nephews, then asks Nakula to bring Draupadī to the camp, lamenting that yet another sorrow would fall upon his beloved. Nakula brings a grieving Draupadī, who lashes out at Yudhiṣṭhira and aggressively congratulates him on winning the war and on becoming emperor, the undertone of this being: at what cost? (10.11) additionally, Yudhiṣṭhira is hit by a revelation from Kuntī, his mother, which greatly disturbs him; later on, an exasperated Yudhiṣṭhira asks this question to Bhīṣma.
now, is Yudhiṣṭhira misogynistic? i would say no; in fact, he later praises Draupadī’s merits and speaks highly of other women. is this contradictory? i would also say no; i think this episode showcases a very humane moment between two characters found in a moment of crisis, in which their children were murdered, and they express their pain by lashing out irrationally. in my view, it showcases how messy and multifaceted we are as humans, which, for me, is one of the great beauties of the Mbh. 💗
pt. 2: on authorship
an argument several scholars have put forward is that the Mbh tells stories of men, and it has been written by men, for men. i would maintain that the first part of this claim can easily be deconstructed through the stories of incredibly empowered and empowering female characters such as Draupadī or Sulabhā.
although authorship of the Mbh has been indeed given to sage Vyāsa, the fluid nature of the epic, with many interpolations and changes made to its structure and with contributions which are anonymous in nature, has led scholars to claim that these changes were created by men, and, in this, the Mbh cannot properly encapsulate or express the female experience because women did not write it.
i will present a simple counterargument, emergent from discussions with Dr. Brian Black and my colleagues during a seminar at Lancaster University; more accurately, a question: how can we know this with certainty? how can we know that women did not contribute to the changes and interpolations that emerged in this epic?
i personally find it quite reductionistic and simplistic to automatically assume that women did not write these stories, or contribute to, for example, the creation of Draupadī’s narrative arc; i think this is exactly an assumption that could be misogynistic in itself, one stemming from a projection of women’s silence, namely to assume that such a great epic, which has shaped and moulded the culture in south asia, has not had any female contribution.
i would ask, why is this the automatic assumption that we make? 😊
listen to me speak more on these two subjects on my TikTok or on my IG account dedicated to my research: @musingsonthemahabharata.
I have been asked on Tumblr how the Mahābhārata answers to the question of suffering (is suffering important? why? how?). First, this is an amazing question which hadn’t occurred to me to ask myself in relation to the Mbh, so I’m grateful for this prompt.
Second, I wouldn’t say that the Mahābhārata distinguishes suffering as important, but it does establish that it exists. All its characters undergo extreme suffering: from sexual assault to losing and grieving children, beloveds, friends, subjects. No character is spared from grief, and, in this, suffering is established as an inevitable reality of the human experience.
However, as scholar Emily Hudson argues in her book “Disorienting Dharma: Ethics and the Aesthetics of Suffering in the Mahābhārata”, there is another dimension the epic offers to the question of suffering, which is that of confronting it. Confronting suffering “involves cultivating a clear sense of the factors that contribute to human misery” (p.33) which the epic, I join Hudson in maintaining, equates with “the quality of one’s mind (manas)” or “intelligence (buddhi)”.
In a significant scene that occurs in the aftermath of the war, Yudhiṣṭhira, crippled by guilt and loss, refuses to rule, and wishes to renounce the world and his responsibilities in an effort to both punish himself and escape his pain. Kṛṣṇa, Draupadī and the other four Pāṇḍavas each give individual speeches to Yudhiṣṭhira in which they attempt to convince him that he cannot do so, that he has a duty to uphold, and, most fascinatingly, that the intensity of his suffering is derived from a misunderstanding of reality.
Most beautifully, Yudhiṣṭhira is told by Kṛṣṇa and Bhīma that “the battle he now must wage is the one with his mind (manas)” and he is to accept the impermanence of existence (Hudson, p.33; Mbh; 12.16.21-25; 14.12.1-14).
My understanding of this exchange is that, suffering will come. However, the extent to which we suffer is dictated by the clarity of our perception. One will naturally grieve death and loss and experience sorrow; however, the narratives we create around these emotions or experiences will dictate whether we remain stuck in them, or whether we welcome them as transitory states that experience themselves through us.
Just as Yudhiṣṭhira falls to his grief, yet picks himself up and rules, so can we.
Many thanks again to the Tumblr user from London who asked this question – if anyone has any other question, please, all are welcome here! Receiving questions from different perspectives is helping me see the epic in new ways in which my mind might not take me on.
Painting: The Destruction of the Yādavas. Unknown artist – do let me know if you know the artist!
I am incredibly honoured and moved to share that I am being awarded the Edinburgh Doctoral College scholarship of the School of Divinity and will be commencing my Ph.D. at Edinburgh University in September with full funding for my research, and with a thesis entitled (as of now!) “The Goddess’s Descent to Earth: In Dialogue with the Reimaginations of the Mahābhārata’s Draupadī”. I am extremely grateful to Professors Mark Harris, Alison Jack and to the board of the School of Divinity for believing in my work. There were times when I was close to not believing in it myself, but the love for the work has pulled me to keep moving forward even in the greatest moments of doubt. More exactly, the love has grown to be greater – and, to be honest, more interesting – than my doubt or uncertainties about myself, which are less exciting to follow than the mysteries that are to be uncovered.
Once, a teacher of mine shared that, if you quiet the mind and listen to your depths, you will be able to feel a thread, a glimmer – pulling you to where and how life wants to move through you. Where that is, as well as getting there, could seem unattainable by way of reason or logic, but the thread will pull you through in ways unimaginable to your perception, with its current limitations and insecurities. This has been my experience, as well.
Follow the thread. Let the love for your work guide you and pave your path.
recommendations for abridged and unabridged translations of the Mahābhārata, as well as reading and referencing tips 🤍.
to reiterate the last point i made in my video first, i would like to accentuate that those of us who rely on translations and are inhibited by the language barrier are already working with a diluted version of the Mbh; it is for this reason that it is exceptionally important to work with the best and most authentic translation that is accessible for us, especially if we are scholars. in this, we can ensure that we are not perpetuating any misunderstanding or false information in the world. 🤍
🔱 unabridged translations:
🔱 for the first five parvas – J. A. B. van Buitenen | for the remaining books of war – Clay Sanskrit Library | these are exquisite, elegant, all-encompassing, and delicious works of translation.
additionally, i use the abridged translation created by John D. Smith and published by Penguin Classics as a handbook or manual to find my way through the unabridged versions when i write papers. this is extremely efficient for referencing – a compass or map to guide you through the verses. i expand on this in the video, and will additionally create a separate video about how to reference the Mbh.
🔱 the recommendations i have shared have been given to me by my amazing MA supervisor from Lancaster University, Dr. Brian Black, who instilled within me the love for the Mahābhārata in academia, and supported me through my research and my PhD application process. in my opinion, he is one of the most dedicated and passionate contemporary researchers of the Mbh, and i am most grateful to him. his book, ‘In Dialogue with the Mahābhārata’, is a fantastic work of research. read more here: https://www.routledge.com/In…/Black/p/book/9780367547271
🔱 TIPS: for those unfamiliar with this epic, i would recommend they begin with an abridged retelling. note: a retelling, and not a translation (John D. Smith’s abridged work would be considered a translation as it follows the epic poem verse by verse). retellings are easier to digest! the Mbh is vast and can be overwhelming, so use the retellings to
familiarise yourself with the characters and with their narrative arcs, and, when you feel familiar enough with the Mbh’s universe, move onto the unabridged versions.
please be aware that, due to the nature of reproducing an epic poem in prose, most retellings include errors, omissions or interpolations. hold these lightly while you read through and also hold in your awareness that the author might have taken many liberties. use the unabridged versions to correct and reorientate yourself within the universe. this is how i started my own journey with it 😊
demonstrating how to reference the Mbh
a thorough Mahābhārata reference consists of three parts: the number of the parva in which the event in question takes place in, the number of its corresponding verse, and the number of the secondary verse. in have created a video in which i am demonstrating how to most efficiently reference the Mbh by utilising the abridged and unabridged translations with the example of Draupadī’s birth from fire (1.155.45).
note the difference in detailed expansion between the two versions, and the importance of continuously referring to the unabridged translations:
abridged: “A beautiful, dark girl emerged from the altar, and the voice proclaimed that she was destined to accomplish the purpose of the Gods by annihilating the Kṣatriyas. [She was] named Kṛṣṇā (Draupadī).”
*Kṛṣṇā means She of Dark Complexion.
unabridged: “Thereupon a young maiden arose from the center of the altar, the well-favored and beautiful Daughter of the Pañcālas, heart-fetching, with a waist shaped like an altar. She was dark, with eyes like lotus petals, her hair glossy black and curling – a lovely Goddess who had chosen a human form. The fragrance of blue lotuses waited from her to the distance of a league, the shape she bore was magnificent, and no one was her peer on earth. And over the full-hipped maiden as soon as she was born the disembodied voice spoke: ‘Superb among women, the Dark Woman shall lead the Kṣatriyas to their doom. The fair-waisted maiden shall in time accomplish the purpose of the Gods, and because of her, great danger shall arise for the Kṣatriyas.’ Hearing this, all the Pañcālas roared like a pride of lions and earth was unable to hold them so full of joy”.
this might seem as an over-scholarly topic, but much of the written material you are going to encounter on the Mbh will include this, and i find it relevant to have a framework for it. 🤍