At Madurai’s famous Meenakshi temple, there is an image of the three-breasted goddess herself, a powerful warrior, whose violent and aggressive temperament was regulated by love and affection when she met Somasundara-Shiva, her consort, when she led armies to the Himalayas. A rather queer tale, as it disrupts the patriarchal image of a demure wife. The temple has many other images that break the mould. The image of Arjuni, a woman with a beard and breasts. Is that Brihanalla of the Mahabharata as some propose? Or maybe Shikhandi? Or maybe just a cross-dressing woman? Is this an affirmation of queer identities in this most venerated South Indian temple?
For a long time, gatekeepers of Indian culture insisted that all things queer were Western. Then, people started reading the scriptures and realised, that was not quite the case. The medical and occult texts said that men are born when the white seed of the father is strong, women when the red seed of the mother is strong, and queer people when both are balanced. Jain scholars spoke of how the biological body (dravya-sharira) may not match the longings of the mental body (bhaav-sharira), an idea now making it to gender studies courses around the world. India has always recognised the existence of the queer, and referred to it as third nature (tritiya prakriti). Those who wrote on mainstream social issues ignored them, but their stories did slip in occasionally, especially in folk traditions.
Gender bender
There is the story of a bisexual from the Kama Sutra. Dattaka was commissioned by the courtesans of Pataliputra to write a textbook on how to make men happy. Why did they ask a man? Because Dattaka had lived his entire life as a woman, though he was a man. He accidentally touched the feet of Shiva with his foot. Shakti saw this and cursed Dattaka, that he would become a woman. With a female body, Dattaka experienced much pleasure, approaching men with the confidence and aggression that only men have. Later, Shakti restored Dattaka’s male form, making him the only man in the world who knew how to make both men and women happy. He knew the body of a man and a woman from the inside; so he became the teacher of courtesans.
Then there is a story of same-sex love from Krishna lore. The king of Magadha, Jarasandha, sent his generals, Hansa and Dimbhaka, to attack and destroy the city of Mathura. The two generals were invincible when they fought together. Krishna and his brother Balaram, defenders of Mathura, separated the two warriors and told each that the other had died. This caused them to die of heartbreak, for the two were lovers, a secret known only to Krishna.
Being napunsaka
Mahabharata tells us about many trans queer people. Arjuna is cursed by a nymph, that he will lose his manhood for a year, and so he lives as the eunuch Brihanalla and teaches dance to the princess Uttara, daughter of Virata. Shikhandi, a princess, is raised as a man but discovers he is a woman on his wedding night. He is given a penis by a yaksha to satisfy his wife. Does that make him a man? Krishna says yes and lets him ride on his chariot into the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Bhishma says no and refuses to fight him, a fatal mistake.
There is a story of inclusion narrated by many hijras of North India. On his return from exile, Rama noticed a number of non-binary people outside the city gates. Why are you not inside, he asked. They said that while leaving for this 14-year exile, Rama had told the men and women to return home. He gave no instructions to those of the third nature, and so they waited outside. Touched by their love, Rama welcomed them into his Rama Rajya.
There is a queer positive line in the famous 16th century Awadhi masterpiece Ramcharitmanas by Tulsidas. In the final chapter (7.87A), Rama tells the crow, Bhusundi, ‘Purush napunsaka nari va jiva charachara koi, sarva bhaav bhaja kapat taji mohi param priya soi’ (men, queers, women, animals or plants, whosoever abandons malice and approaches me, is dear to me). Here, god is making himself accessible to all, even the queer (napunsaka). No one is excluded. Scholars rarely mention this line, let alone discuss it in their dissertations. This is how gatekeepers impose their own version of tradition on the next generation.
The writer is author of 50 books on mythology, art and culture.
