Fire and Ice - Yagyaseni Draupadi

Fallen on the cushion of soft white snow, on the ridge of a peak somewhere in the Himalayas, abandoned by her co passengers and left alone to die – lay the empress of Indraprastha and Hastinapur, the proud Pandava queen.

Ironical, isn’t it? A woman who sprang forth from fire, to make history, died shivering in ice. Surely VedVyas (who dictated the Mahabharata to the elephant-headed God) could have given his heroine a better, more comfortable and more honourable farewell? My first reaction is - Draupadi has always been wronged by the men in her life. Even by the author who created her in his vision.

On more thoughtful reflection I think - may be...just may be...the wise sage knew that only the iridescent, chilled, pure white snow of the austere Himalayas could finally calm and extinguish the blazing fire that was Draupadi.

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“Ati Keshi Pati Nasha” – I first heard this Sanskrit phrase from an elderly domestic help. She had some kind of a grudge against her new daughter-in-law, who, she claimed, would surely bring about the downfall of her son. Literally translated to English, it means – “A woman with long voluminous hair brings about the destruction of her husband.”

This is how the story of Draupadi’s life has impacted our society. It is extremely rare to find a girl named after Draupadi. One of my friends pointed out “it’s not cool! And she would be at the receiving end of jokes.” But is that the only reason? Do parents in small town and/or rural India care about cool names? Also, I do not think anyone of us have even a grandmother or great grandmother in the family, named after Draupadi. No, she seems to be the one-whose-name-mustn’t-be-used. Why? Because she is a wife to five men! Horrors! Because she has been humiliated like no woman should ever be! God forbid! But most importantly and primarily, because the self appointed guardians of our society have branded her a kritya – a woman who brings about the destruction of her own clan. 
She is the bloodthirsty, angry, violent woman who will not blink an eyelid before avenging herself on her own people.

And yet, after all the charges and allegations we level at the princess of Panchala, she remains, without the hint of a doubt, the most written about and extensively researched female of Indian mythology. Countless scholars have given in to the sheer spell of her dark charms and many papers, theses, books, novels, articles and thoughts have tried time and again, to define what made Draupadi the fiery star of the greatest epic in the world.

Without Draupadi in the Mahabharata, there would have been no Mahabharata. She is the cause and all that followed, the effect.

Draupadi is a far cry from the controlled, restrained, gentle Sita. She is forever beyond social rules. She will not obey and nothing in the world can make her obey. She has a quicksilver mind of her own and a heart that refuses to listen to norms. And that is what she remains forever. That wild, magnetic, sultry, free thinking girl every boy’s mother has warned him about!

From her fiery birth to her icy death, she has to be different. And she is. Delightfully different. Here’s taking a look at the First Lady of Indian mythology.

First and foremost, Draupadi is Yagyaseni – born from the flames of the sacred fire. She doesn’t have the mortal need for the matrix of a human womb. In Sanskrit, she is “ayonija sambhava” – not-of-a-woman-born. She can bring herself forth. She doesn’t need to be given birth to. First rule, broken.

And she is dark. Very dark. Hence one of her names is Krishnaa. That’s another patrician rule broken. Here again, Draupadi stands out. To be born into a north Indian, Aryan society, with even a shade less than a rosy, milky complexion would have guaranteed any other princess lifelong spinsterhood and no suitors. But not Draupadi! This dark, proud girl is called, upon her emergence from fire, “the most beautiful woman in the world.” (And she lives her life like the “most beautiful woman in the world” would - with constant, unending and mostly unwanted male attention.)

It is also quite possible that Draupadi is the girl child King Drupad never wished for. Though it has never been actually stated in the Mahabharata, it can be made out from the fact that King Drupad was a revenge-hungry, beaten man who wanted nothing more than a warrior son to capture and punish his friend turned foe Dronacharya. But he gets more than he bargained for when after the emergence of Dhrishtadyumna (the desired warrior son), out springs a young, slim, dark and beautiful maiden with eyes like “the leaves of the autumn-lotus”. At her emergence, her fate is branded. The air reverberates with the celestial message –

“This is Panchaali, a daughter for the King of Panchala. A gift from the Gods. Look after her well, O king! For dark of skin and the most beautiful of all women, peerless in manner and virtue and tender of form, she is born to change history. She will cause the most devastating war in the story of mankind. It is she who will bring about the downfall of the Kurus.”

(It will interest us to note that the word “panchaali” has a double meaning....it is also a synonym for “puppet”. It’s ironical, for someone as vocal and exuberant as her. But again, as we can see, it gives us a peek into how Draupadi is going to live out her entire life, acting out her father’s vengeance and also being a key instrument of the Gods to bring death to the mightiest Kshatriya clan of that era, the Kurus)

Yet again, the “peerless princess” shatters the norms of convention when she quietly gives in to the seemingly horrific idea of being the common wife of the five Pandava brothers. Everywhere else in the epic, Draupadi screams out for justice. Then why is she quiet at this unnatural arrangement? There are only two reasons I can think of.

One, Draupadi has been silenced and her dialogues obliterated by some deft hand. Epics are written and rewritten, modified, edited, added to and deleted from over centuries. While the backbone of the story remains the same, other imaginative authors make changes to epics and hence there are multiple versions. So it is a possibility that Draupadi’s expression of shock at being married off to five brothers has been conveniently removed.

The second reason why I think she keeps quiet at this crucial juncture is because she has astute political genius. This is a woman who knows when to prioritise the cravings of her heart and when to play along with the strategies of the mind. While her father and brother are raving and ranting about the never-seen-before arrangement, Draupadi is calculating the pros and cons. Here is how I think Draupadi’s mind must have worked.

First, she is aware of the fact that if she raises too much of a hue and cry and the Pandavas decide to call off the wedding and walk away, no matter how beautiful, she will never have another suitor all her life. (In those days no one would have come forward to marry a princess who has been discarded by her spouse(s)-to-be due to her vociferous protests). She has already spoken her mind once during her Swayamvar in front of mighty kings, when she rejected Karna outright by saying the steely words that haunted the most tragic hero of all times, forever – “Naaham Varayaami Sootaputram” (I shall not marry a charioteer’s son).

Second, Draupadi knows that all of the five brothers desire her. She is totally aware of the power of her immense beauty. She understands that there cannot be complete fraternal harmony amongst the brothers if she lives amongst them as the wife of only one. It would be a very awkward situation. She knows that harmony amongst the Pandava brothers is absolutely essential for them to achieve what they have been brought up for. It is also important for her to achieve the objective that was the reason of her own birth.

Third, Draupadi can clearly see why her mother-in-law Kunti has tightly held the five reigns in her hands and has been the chief decision maker for all her sons. This position is now for Draupadi to take. She knows that the destiny of the Pandavas is to battle their enemies one day and that is her fate as well...and it is a common enemy. So instead of all the five brothers entrusting five different women with their affection, thoughts and confidences, she alone can exercise control and influence the thoughts of all the brothers.

Fourth, living the crude, dangerous jungle life the Pandavas were living at the time of their collective wedding to Draupadi, taking care of and protecting five different princesses would have meant a considerable loss of time, energy and resources for the Pandavas. One woman, beautiful, intelligent, accomplished in every way and the daughter of a powerful king, is indeed the ideal spouse for all the five Pandavas.

The fifth and the most important reason is the symbolic meaning of this unique union. The firebrand heroine of the Mahabharata is a human incarnate of Shree (the goddess of fortune, harmony, joy and victory). The five brothers represent some indispensible qualities that must come together to ensure victory and harmony.

Yudhishthir is Righteousness, Justice and Wisdom, Bhima is Physical Strength, Arjuna is Skill, Charm and Power, Nakula is Beauty of the human form and Gentleness personified and last but not the least Sahadeva represents Learning and Knowledge of the secrets of nature. Draupadi is their joy, the source of their harmony. True, all the brothers have their own individual wives as well, but no one can ever replace the special affection they have for Draupadi, because she is their best friend, confidant and at times their moral guide. She is the only consort who has been the companion of all their joys and sorrows. She is their “Shree”; their divine luck. She is the silken thread that runs through the heart of five priceless pearls, thus binding them to each other forever. 

(You may point out that together these six have faced the worst of times, but you must notice that jungle or palace, the Pandavas have never starved, never squabbled against one another or given in to sibling rivalry, they have never been attacked fatally after their wedding to Draupadi and in the end have managed to emerge victorious. With their “divine luck” by their side, no matter how harsh the conditions, the Pandavas have had the last laugh.)

After her marriage to the Pandava brothers, there is a subtle yet noticeable shift in the central female character of the epic. So far, it was Kunti, the mother, who gave her sons her steely devotion and was a strict disciplinarian. Now, the balance of power tilts in favour of Draupadi, the wife who will bind them together with affection, presence of mind and great tact.

There is an anecdote that shows Draupadi’s wit. Duryodhana’s wife Bhanumati makes a snide comment to Draupadi, regarding her multiple husbands - “kena vrittena Draupadi pandavan adhitishthasi” (how does Draupadi manage to control her five husbands?). Not the one to keep quiet, Draupadi retorts “pativriddhi kuley mama” (“there has always been an excessive number of husbands in my in-laws’ clan”....referring to the fact that her and Bhanumati’s common great grandmother-in-law Satyavati, grandmothers-in-law Ambika and Ambalika as well as her mother-in-law Kunti have sexually known more men than one).

Many say that it is the sharpness of her tongue that led to her biggest humiliation. She never learnt to hold her tongue. But looking at it from another perspective, if Yudhishthir hadn’t agreed to the gambling match it wouldn’t have happened. Any which way, once Draupadi was staked and won, the lecherous sons of Dhritarashtra would have done something obscene or the other – with or without Draupadi’s caustic remarks. 

Tired after her long journey from Indraprastha, menstruating, clad in a single sheet of cloth (as was the custom in those days for menstruating women) and shocked out of her senses, the beautiful daughter of the King of Panchala, the proud sister of the brave Dhrishtadyumna, the devoted wife of the greatest warriors of all time, the Pandavas – Draupadi is dragged by her open hair into a court full of leering men on one side and defeated, beaten, mute elders and husbands on the other. Initial shock over, Draupadi immediately calls upon her knowledge of the Nyayashastra (book of law) and asks two questions which remain unanswered through the entire course of the Mahabharata – 


"Is a wife a commodity or cattle or owned property that she can be staked?"
and
“Can a gambler who has lost everything, including himself, retain enough right on his wife so as to stake her in a gamble?” 


Her knowledge hasn’t deserted her in her greatest crisis. She is jeered at, called a whore (by who else, but Karna!) and her attire is pulled at violently for all the men to stare at her bare body. After her initial cry for help to her husbands and the elderly, Draupadi must have understood that no one could shame her if she didn’t do anything shameful herself. They were only shaming themselves. She stops struggling completely and for the last time, asks help from one person who she knows will never fail her – Her best friend, the flute playing cowherd, Krishna.

Let us step back for a moment from the hedonistic court of Hastinapur where Draupadi is being publicly disrobed.
Let us for a moment; take a look at a small interaction between best friends Krishnaa and Krishna, which is a glimpse of the simplest, purest and best relation between two human beings. Let us go back to the royal hall of Indraprastha where Krishna has just killed the abusive Shishupala with his divine Sudarshan discus and all are staring quietly in awe. Only Krishnaa steps forward and points out to Krishna that he has cut his finger from using the discus and is bleeding. Krishna acts cool and says it's nothing. With an indulgent smile and concern in her eyes, Krishnaa tears off an end of her abominably expensive saree and bandages her best friend’s bleeding finger.

“Oh my dearest Krishnaa,” smiles the protector of all universe, himself protected by a woman’s pure concern, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes “You have ruined that lovely saree of your’s in attempting to heal my wound! But do not worry; I will surely replace that saree one day, though mine may not be as expensive!”

Need I say anymore? Though they never claimed to be brother and sister but by this simple and innocent act of love, together Krishna and his sakhi Krishnaa set off what we celebrate as Rakshabandhan. That torn and jagged piece of Draupadi’s saree, tied around Krishna’s finger to stop the bleeding became the first Rakhi ever and the never ending saree that clung to Draupadi during the worst moment of her life, protecting her honour, was her best friend’s promise fulfilled.

Let us now return to the court of Hastinapur – Draupadi is standing, trembling with rage, near the heap of the never ending saree that appeared from nowhere and draped her safely the moment she thought of Krishna, the wicked Dussasana is panting with exhaustion and others are either staring in amazement or hanging their head in shame. Her words are dripping with sarcasm and cynicism when she addresses the Kuru elders -  

“One duty remains, which I must now do as your junior and the royal daughter-in-law of the Kurus. Dragged by my hair by this mighty hero, I nearly forgot to salute all of you. I was so confused. I was so scared. I was so ashamed. Sirs, I bow to all of you now, all my elders and superiors. Forgive me for not doing so earlier. It was not at all my fault, gentlemen of the sabha.”

She then curses the entire Kuru clan with destruction for the humiliation of a helpless woman. The diplomatic Dhritarashtra immediately starts a consolation speech for the violated queen and begs her to take her curse back. The blind king offers her three boons.

At this juncture, the innate nobility of Draupadi’s character springs out, as Karna (who didn’t conduct himself chivalrously at all during the high drama), points -

“That day Panchaali did a deed exceedingly pure and difficult. Herself and the Pandavas she lifted up like a ship from the swell of the terrible sea. None of the world’s renowned beautiful women have done such a deed.”

She frees her husbands and herself in lieu of the first boon. For the second, she only asks back the weapons that belong to all five of her husbands. The third boon, Draupadi refuses with fierce dignity. She knows in her heart that with her mighty husbands free from slavery and their weapons back, she doesn’t need any other gift or boon from anybody. She will now prepare them to extract the bloodiest revenge in history.

The attempted disrobing of Draupadi in the court of Hastinapur is the most decisive moment of the entire epic. Nothing ensures more strongly that now brothers will spill the blood of brothers to avenge the grave humiliation of a woman.

Later, when the Pandavas are sent into exile, Draupadi chooses to accompany them. She could have stayed back like the other wives. But she doesn’t. Reasons being – one, to signify their “Shree” or luck has not abandoned them and two, she does not want them to forget for a moment in the peace of jungle life that they failed her as protectors and husbands. Throughout their twelve years of forest exile and one year of staying incognito, Draupadi with her open uncombed hair, her tears and her caustic, bitter remarks, keeps the fire of revenge burning in the hearts of the Pandavas.

When Draupadi finds, to her horror, that all her husbands and even her unfailing best friend Krishna are inching towards a compromise with the Kauravas and begging merely for five villages to look after instead of the entire Hastinapur that is rightfully theirs, she brings forth her entire feminine armoury of tears, command on language and the bruises on her honour that refuse to heal, to turn the course of events inexorably towards war. She upbraids Krishna thus:

“How could your sakhi, the wife of the Pandavas, Dhrishtadyumna’s sister be dragged into a royal assembly as I was done? I was in my period, I was wearing a single cloth, deep in anguish I was shaking all over, and I was hauled by force into the assembly of the Kurus. Those sinners, evils sons of Dhritarashtra, they laughed seeing me there, in the middle of that royal assembly, in the midst of kings, my saree being pulled off my body."


"While the sons of Pandu were still alive, while the Panchalas were still alive, while the Yadus  were still alive, they wanted to enjoy me as a slave is enjoyed."

"Shame on the strength of Bheemasena! Shame on Arjuna’s Gandeeva! Shame on them that they sat enduring my ill-treatment! Shame on Yudhishtira! Shame on them if Duryodhana lives even for another instant!”

Draupadi, crying aloud inconsolably in the jungle, wailing again and again, forlorn, heart-broken, desolate, disconsolate, her heart sinking with the grief of her boundless sorrow, tells Krishna:

“No, Krishna, I have neither husbands, nor sons, nor relatives. I have no brothers, I have no father, nor have I even you! Because, Krishna, you all ignore how I was outraged in that assembly, as if that grief does not touch your heart. I can never forget for a moment how Karna laughed at me, seeing my plight then. 
Remember Krishna, you had the responsibility to protect me forever for four reasons: because you are related to me, because I am an honourable woman, because you are my friend, and because you are capable of doing it.”

It is exceedingly difficult to find this kind of vociferous eloquence and passion in any female character of any epic in the world. On one instance she simply asks Krishna, if she chose to forgive the Kauravas completely, would he promise that no woman would ever be humiliated again? Draupadi is power, eloquence and assertiveness personified. Giving in to her, finally Krishna says:

“The Himavant hills may move, the Earth may shatter in a hundred pieces, heavens may  collapse; but my promise stands…You will see your enemies killed.”

The war begins! The great war of Kurukshetra. Where brothers fight brothers. Where grandsons fight their beloved grandfather and students fight teachers they once revered. There is rarely a parallel to this war in recorded history and/or mythology. Draupadi has her wish. Draupadi finally has her revenge. She emerges as the prima donna of Mahabharata. A role etched out exclusively for her.

In the process of extracting her revenge, fighting for justice and fulfilling the prophecy made at her birth, Draupadi makes heroes out of the Pandavas. The same five brothers who sat and watched their wife getting publicly belittled, the same five who had given up all hope and were ready for the paltriest compromise, fight like tigers in the war for honour and righteousness.All thanks to only and only the princess of Panchala who kept the fire burning in her heart and theirs through years of hardship and pain. It is Draupadi who pushes them on the path of heroism.

Her next responsibility is that of an empress. But before that, Draupadi brings back Yudhishthir from the edge of post-war depression. He doesn’t want to rule a kingdom he has obtained by killing his relatives. Draupadi first gently and then aggressively reminds him of his duty. She reminds him that she too has lost her father, her brother and her five sons and after a major tug-of-war with Yudhishthir’s looming guilt and melancholy, she reinstates him as the King of Hastinapur.

Finally, after decades of ruling, when it is the time to leave the worldly pleasures in search of salvation, it is again Draupadi out of all the other Pandava consorts (Devika,Hidimba, Valandhara, Ulupi, Chitrangada, Subhadra, Karenumati and Vijaya) who voluntarily chooses to accompany her husbands. She could have stayed back. But she doesn’t. Whether she really romantically loves each one of them or not is a difficult question to answer, and most probably she doesn’t, but never does she desert them. 

Draupadi has to be the heroine till the end. She will not sit behind in some dark deserted palace, grow old and toothless and spend her last days with gout and gossip, teaching her great grand daughters-in-law the trick of making the perfect mango pickle. Can you imagine Draupadi like that? I can’t. She herself couldn’t. She’d rather perish suddenly and heroically on a journey towards heaven. And that is what she chooses.

If Sita is the fair, domesticated, gentle Gauri - the Goddess of domestic bliss and marital harmony then I guess we can compare Draupadi to the untamed, angry Kali, the Goddess of war.

The cult of Draupadi Amma in south India, Singapore and Sri Lanka, celebrates and reveres Draupadi as a folk deity who is a representation of cosmic power and eroticism. In Hindu holy scriptures, Draupadi is one of the five sacred virgins – the Panch Kanya (along with Ahalya, Tara and Mandodari from the Ramayana and her own mother-in-law Kunti). How can a woman with five husbands be a “sacred virgin”, one might ask. Well, as you may have noticed all the women who make up the Panch Kanya are married. So the virginity is metaphoric. Here being a virgin isn’t a bodily condition, but it refers to an inner state of the psyche that remains firm and unshaken in its quest for its goal. The virgin is capable of making choices, rejecting offers, making her ideas heard out loud and getting her wishes fulfilled. Physically she may not be a spinster or a maiden. In Panch Kanya symbolism, she is a psychological virgin. As opposed to the non-virgin, who continually keeps adapting to others’ needs, a Panch Kanya virgin is clear about what she wants and will work hard in such an intelligent manner that people around her are convinced to help her in achieving her goal. Thus Draupadi finds place of pride amongst the Panch Kanya of Hindu mythology.

While we are fine with worshipping Sita in temples, we will perhaps forever shy away from welcoming Draupadi into our hearts and homes as a good daughter or the stereotype of an ideal wife. We will always look at her with some kind of a frightful reverence. Draupadi is a questioning woman. A rebellious woman. A powerful, assertive, eloquent and passionate woman. A fearless woman with an unbending will. She is the rule breaking wild child with a mind of her own. So it’s best to keep her at a distance, not use her name and never make a goddess out of her. That is what the custodians of our society are comfortable with. As for Draupadi, knowing what I know of her, she wouldn’t care two hoots about what others think!

Is Draupadi for real? Is she history or is she pure imagination? Or is she somewhere in between reality and myth? Oh let us not bother to bind a timeless woman to a particular period in time. That will rob her magnificence. To be relevant in the contemporary world, the fiery, path breaking idea that is Draupadi, has to be beyond time and space and free of historical and geographical boundaries. There were Draupadis born in the past, there are such women in the present and there will be Draupadis in the future. Women who dare to break rules and challenge conventions.

The Mahabharata is a symbolic narration that reflects the thoughts and feelings, social interactions and reflections of the Indian people over centuries. That is what makes the Mahabharata an epic, because we will forever identify with its imperfect, flawed characters and complicated situations.

Likewise, Draupadi is the symbolic representation of the doubts, concerns, the endless unanswered questions and the uncomfortable topics we prefer to keep under the carpet. And that is exactly why Draupadi will remain the first eloquent and vociferous pioneer of women’s liberation....the thinking, questioning woman, who will stand up for justice and take the most unconventional stand.

She keeps questioning our beliefs on - what is cultured behaviour?  What is the nature of morality? Is respect a birthright or does it have to be earned by actions? What is the place for women in a society that keeps changing its rules at its own convenience? Who will make rules for those who make rules for everyone else?

She is the Devil’s Advocate in the epic.


The beautiful, intelligent, strong willed and controversial heroine of the Mahabharata, who created heroes and anti heroes out of the characters that crossed her path, is simultaneously ancient and ever-new in her ideologies.That is why the story of her life and times, and all the people who became a part of it, will continue to enchant and enthrall us just as it enchanted and enthralled generations for centuries.

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P.S - I think VedVyas was right in letting the fiery heroine of his epic fall off first. He made sure out of all the six who set off into the Himalayas, it was she who attained peace and salvation first. She doesn’t remain lingering and labouring behind to grieve the fall and demise of any of her husbands. She is spared. She is relieved the fastest. She is finally at peace.

Please do note that, only after Draupadi, the personification of “divine luck” granted to the Pandavas, leaves them, do they start falling off one after the other on their icy track.

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Ref : The Mahabharata (translated by R.C Dutt), Dent, 1910
        The Palace of Illusions - Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Picador India, 2008
        The Cult of Draupadi,Alf Hiltebeitel Vol. I, Motilal Banarsidass, Delhi, 1988
        She-who-must-be-obeyed; Pradip Bhattacharya, Manushi Newsletter
        The Other Wives: Devdutt Pattanaik
         

The birthling of the Earth - Sita

“I am happy the way I am. Thank you very much. I have reached a peaceful compromise with life and circumstances. I do not need anyone, anymore.”

“And please do refer to me only as Sita. For that is my name. Sita, the birthling found in a furrow on the Earth (seeth). For once let me not be Janaka’s daughter Janaki or the princess of Mithila, Maithili.”

Vaidehi?

“Vaidehi isn’t my own name too. King Janaka, bless his soul, earned the sobriquet Videha and I his daughter, therefore became Vaidehi. Let’s please stick with Sita.”

Meeting Sita isn’t easy. She is quite a recluse. She isn’t the coquettish, talkative type. I don’t think Sita really likes people a lot. Can’t blame her, considering she has spent most of her life in forests, away from the mainstream crowd. She has probably come to love her solitude, which has been her constant and faithful companion, never mind all the rest.

Sita is inexpressibly beautiful. In the perfect conventional manner. A peaches and cream complexion, almond eyes, a royal, delicately curved nose and rosebud lips. Certainly not a person made to toil in jungles and unfriendly terrain. And yet, that has been her destiny. She is calm about it. No wild raving and ranting. There is a cool aura about her. But it’s not the chill of conceit. It is the calming coolness of a wise, loving woman.

She is also a princess to the last bit. Dignified, sophisticated and restrained.

“I wasn’t like that always. I have learnt it the hard way. There have been times when I have known no restrain. Like the time I first saw my husband at the Swayamvar hall, through my thin silken veil, my heart almost jumping out of my bosom. Like the time when my husband decided to leave for the forest to honour my father-in-law’s promise to Queen Kaikeyi. And leave me behind for fourteen years”

Sita first appears in the Ramayana at the wedding scene in King Janaka’s palace and is thus introduced:

“This is Sita child of Janak, dearer unto him than life

Henceforth sharer of thy virtue, be she, prince, thy faithful wife

Of thy weal and woe partaker, be she thine in every land,

Cherish her in joy and sorrow, clasp her hand within thy hand,

As the shadow to the substance, to her lord is faithful wife,

And my Sita best of women follows, then,  in death or life!”

Sita has long been epitomised as feminine perfection in India. She is the ideal daughter, ideal wife and ideal mother. I guess our patriarchal society is more comfortable with Sita (as opposed to the mercurial Draupadi) because in her we see a soft hearted, tearful, gentle and almost subservient woman who is a picture of endless sacrifice.

But I think it would be absolutely unfair to judge Sita in the light of the contemporary, newfangled standards of women's rights without understanding her contextually. And she is not the permanent damsel in distress she is portrayed to be in popular culture. Considering the time period during which the Ramayana was composed, Sita is remarkably vocal in the presence of towering male characters.

“I did speak. Very passionately. Whenever I have felt unjust treatment was being meted out to me, I have raised my voice in my own way. When I got to know, right after my wedding, that I was to remain behind for fourteen years while my husband went to the forest, I was shocked. Here is your newly wedded wife, whom you have uprooted from her father’s home and all you decide is to abandon her for the sake of an act of unnecessary filial obedience?”

When instructed to stay back in Ayodhya for fourteen years, Sita is terribly hurt. She is consumed by the agony of a prolonged separation and says to her husband,

“For my mother often taught me and my father often spake,

That home the wedded woman doth beside her husband make,

As the shadow to the substance, to her lord is the faithful wife,

And she parts not from her consort till she parts with fleeting life.”

But these fail to move her man. Sita promises him she would be no trouble to him in the jungle. She would serve him constantly. The roots and fruits of the jungle would be enough food for her. The new bride who can’t bear the idea of separation throws herself before her lord and in the glory of her simple, pure and innocent love, proclaims that “she would be walking ahead of him in the jungle – so that she could crush under her feet the thorns, the knife-edged blades of grass and the sharp stones on the way and make his way smooth for him!” Yet her husband isn’t convinced.

Finally, with torrents of tears pouring down her almond eyes, the new daughter-in-law of Ayodhya cries in agony and anguish, “I wonder, Rama, if my father King Janaka understood when he got you as a son-in-law that he was really getting only a woman in the body of a man.”

Nobody has ever asked Sita before if she ever regretted her decision of accompanying her husband to the forest. For it led to many undesirable events later. Sitting alone in captivity in faraway Sri Lanka, did for once she think it would have been wiser not to come?

“I have never regretted any decision or action in my life.”

Not even her frenzy of momentary desire for possessing the golden maya deer?  Had she not asked for it, her husband wouldn’t have gone in pursuit and long story short, she wouldn’t have been abducted.

“Well, it was a mistake. I erred and I got my share of punishment. More than my share. But at least I exemplified to the world that lusting after the mere pleasures of the senses, brings about nasty events.”

“You must not forget it was my brother- in-law who chopped off Shurpanakha’s nose. That itself was the beginning of the end. Ravana would have extracted his revenge one way or the other for the disgrace his sister faced. The chain of events was already set in motion. I never acted with foolish bravado or did anything out of the ordinary”

Coming to think of it, she is right. Ravana would have harmed the princes of Ayodhya one way or the other once Shurpanakha’s nose was gone. Sita’s desiring the golden deer, her persuading Rama to go looking for it and finally, sending Lakshman in search of Rama were nothing out of the ordinary. Anybody would like to have a nice, golden pet; anybody would want to rush to the aid of a person presumed injured. What’s so wrong with that? Are all actions only justified by the results they end in? If Ravana hadn't appeared on the scene after Lakshman left to look for Rama, then, Sita's longing for the golden deer and sending Lakshman after her husband would have been rarely noticeable, obscure, unimportant events in Ramayana.

“People have forever blamed me for crossing the Lakshman Rekha. But everyone forgets conveniently, in our times, giving alms to a Brahmin was not a matter of choice. It was what you absolutely did if a Brahmin came begging. It was an unbreakable code of Kshatriya conduct. It wasn’t a choice. It was a compulsion.”

Another aspect of Sita that comes to the front, as we ponder on her abduction by the King of Lanka, is her presence of mind.

Sita quickly recovers from the initial shock of being kidnapped and begins to throw her jewellery down to mark the way for her husband and brother-in-law, who she knew would come looking for her. I don’t know how many girls in the process of getting kidnapped can think that fast. Even today.

In captivity of Ravana, surrounded by demonesses, Sita uses her command on language, her passion and her powerful speech again and shatters Ravana’s supreme confidence into pieces. She is not the one to get swayed by Ravana’s riches or power or even threats. Much before her husband comes to Lanka with a large army, Sita fights Ravana off in the solitude of the gloomy Ashokvatika. Absolutely alone. Her only weapons – her chastity, her faith, the clarity of her mind and her eloquent words.

“Sure thy fitful life is shadowed by a dark and dreadful fate,

Since in frenzy of thy passion courtest thou a warrior's mate"

But heroines do not get respite very easily. Or else they wouldn’t be heroines.

“My moment of truth came right after the war. I wish I had seen it right then.” sighs Sita.

A faithful wife, who refused the great riches and material pleasures of Lanka, when reunited with her husband, is humiliated in the worst possible manner. Rama tells her in firm words that he fought the war only to save his Kshatriya honour and redeem his status as a great warrior.

“I was told that since I was touched by Ravana and I had stayed in his captivity unprotected, I was now free to go where I liked, the ten directions were open to me, and I could give my heart and body, to whoever I wished.” 

Two teardrops shining like diamonds appear at the corner of her eyes.

“I told him that his statements weren’t fit to be spoken even by the cheapest of men to the worst of women. I did not want to prove my chastity by jumping into the fire. I just wanted to die.”

“But I didn’t.” she pauses

Does she blame her husband? 

"I do not blame anybody for anything. Aren't we all merely puppets, dancing to the directions of a master puppeteer? I have long forgiven everybody all their transgressions against me. And my husband? Oh! I loved him! I loved him so much that I'd have cut my heart out of my body if he only just asked!"

"He had his compulsions. I always sympathized with his perennial need to prove himself a righteous and honest King."

And how about being a loving husband who would stand by her no matter what?

“You can’t have it all in one life. You win some, you lose some.”

Sita swallowed the agony of her humiliation by her own beloved husband and accompanied him back to Ayodhya. She played her part quietly in his coronation and for the next few years to come, happily provided her husband all conjugal pleasures. And then, in the manner of a very cruel and bad joke, in the sheer happiness of new life springing within her womb, Sita was told that her husband had decided to get rid of her. Her husband, perturbed by rumours of people talking about the chastity of a queen who lived all alone in Lanka, identified her as the single biggest hindrance to his position as the best king the world has ever seen.

“He himself was in a difficult situation. In some ways, whatever he did would have displeased someone or the other. Was his primary duty to his kingdom or to his wife? His was an internal struggle between the king and the husband.”

After rallying from the initial shock, brave, strong, dignified and ever so kind, Sita tells her husband soothingly to act in a manner befitting a king. She knows no matter where she is, his heart will be her’s forever. Sita doesn’t, for a moment, suffer from insecurity about her marriage and relationship. She has a simple and strong conviction that is very endearing.

Pregnant, banished and unofficially divorced, Sita is quick to gather herself, cheer up and move on with life. She brings forth new life in the jungle hermitage of Rishi Valmiki. The twins, Lav and Kush.

Sita is now the single mother. But she doesn’t let her melancholy affect her children. She brings them up disciplined, brave and strong. Though unhappy herself, she teaches her children to respect their father. She never teaches them hate and vengeance. No one could say her children came from broken homes.

In contemporary society we are anguished to face separation, divorce and single parenthood. Sita went through it with all her love and patience.

“It was he who suffered more. I had my children with me. He was lonelier. Can’t you see, he always had to let go of the people he loved the most. I always saw his inner struggle between an ideal king and a man who wants a normal happy life. Do not judge him harshly. He was very sad.”

“I, on the other hand, always made peace with my situation.”

Sita never saw herself as a miserable victim. In her mind and in her conduct she was always a greatly dignified royal princess and a faithful wife who loved endlessly. She never begs, never rants and never makes a scene to be taken back and restored as a queen. She never goes marching back to demand her equal rights. Neither does she run to her father’s house wailing and complaining. She is the ever understanding wife. The ever loving mother. 

And she is also the picture of restrained royal dignity. Once her sons are accepted as the rightful heirs to the throne of Ayodhya, Sita’s job is done. She no longer needs to prove anything to anybody. And so, calling upon her mother, Bhumi (the Goddess Earth), Sita leaves. She brings her story to an end and leaves others to carry on with the miseries of life. Sita, unlike many of us, knew where to draw the line. Like I said, a princess to the very end.

I have one final question. What should contemporary women, so empowered in every way, (and even men for that matter) learn from the story of a woman who lived and loved thousands of ages ago?

“My life on Earth as a human will only be successful if everybody learns little more forbearance. Learn from my follies." 
"Understand that between soul mates, like my husband and me, there exists a bond greater than that of expressed love. If hardships and physical separation sever the ties that bind two hearts, then it's not love, it's just convenience."
"Learn how to bring up balanced children even when faced with marital difficulties."
"Understand that being chaste and pure  is a state of mind and soul, not a bodily parameter. An attack on the physical body doesn't take anybody's honour or purity away."
"Do not use my name to awe your daughters, wives and daughters-in-law into docile submission. Submission comes out of deep love, not force. I had spoken my mind in my time. Let them speak theirs'. I held my moral ground. Let all women hold theirs'.”

Finally Sita says, in her cool, gentle manner, before she chooses to leave my dream like rendezvous with her –

“We live as humans in a human world. We make mistakes, we face troubles and sometimes we get into very complicated situations. You can either choose to crib about the hardships for the rest of your existence and blame everybody and be bitter. Or you can choose to forgive and move on. I chose the latter. 
Forgiving is healing, calming and strengthening.”

      ******************************************************************

P.S - Thank you for taking time out from your busy schedule and reading my blog.

 If you are enjoying reading these articles, may I request you to please follow this blog by signing into Blogger with your Google ID and share the link to any article that you like the most here - on Facebook, Twitter, Google plus and any other social media you may be using...so your friends can visit too? :)
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Thanks once again! Hope you love reading my articles as much as I loved writing them!

Ref: 1. The Ramayana (Translated by Romesh C. Dutt), Dent, 1910

       2. Brockington, J. L., Righteous Rama: The Evolution of an Epic., Oxford University Press.

       3. Milton's Eve and The Ramayana's Sita: Two female archetypes.     

Curtain Raiser - A sneak peek at what's coming soon on Ionosphere!

(This is a brief introduction to the topic, theme and mood of the next few blogs I will be writing)

I am not a feminist. Well, at least not the hardcore bra-burning type feminist.

   Oh yes, I totally agree that men have ruled the earth and fought terrible and violent wars. Men have been great heroes and greater anti-heroes. Men have, since time immemorial, laid down rules for other men and definitely for all the women.  Men have had their stories told and retold in epics and other great documents that have passed the test of time. People like Alexander, Chandragupta Maurya, Ashoka, Akbar not to forget Lord Rama and the Pandava brothers. 

It certainly cannot be denied that through the ages Men, their motives, thoughts and actions have shaped our society as we know it today.

(Oh come on, for every female scientist you name I can name five male worshippers of science and for every  queen, ten better known kings. For example, who was Queen Devi? Who was Queen Tishyarakshita? Without Googling please. No? Not in any book you read in school on Indian history? Of course you know who King Ashoka was! The women I named were two of his wives. But who cares, really! )

I pay my respects and genuflect in awe, for these men have left no stone unturned to see to it that they will forever be deemed as no less than Gods walking on earth.

    And yet, for some strange reason, whenever I indulge in history and/or mythology, I tend to gravitate more towards HER-story than HIS-story. 

   To some women scribes have been kind, to others very harsh. For example, while you may still find a rare Sita or Janaki (mostly down South), it is next to impossible to find a girl named Draupadi. (The only time someone has that name is when her parents have been advised by the astrologer that the name "Draupadi" is an “upaya” - a way to ward off  ill luck by using the name of an ill fated one.). Most of our mythical women have been avoided meticulously at least in names. In North India, it’s very rare to find names like Sita, Draupadi, Kunti, Shakuntala, Damayanti. Not that you absolutely can’t, but if you do, there is always a story on how that name was given to the person bearing it. (In sharp contrast are the Westerners. While Eve, I grant you, is rare, Helen is very common although Helen of Troy was a siren at the root of a great and devastating war. )

    Cutting a long story short, I want to write the next few entries about women. But fear not! I am not writing about women you have never heard of. Because it is very likely that I haven’t heard of them myself.

 I will be giving my time to four very well known, legendary, extraordinary Indian women. Two are from the ever so hazy realm of mythology touching the edges of history and the other two are shining jewels of documented Indian history. Two are very well known figures of Hinduism and the other two outstanding women in Islamic society.

    Of course all historical and mythological ladies have been written about umpteen times. But this time, I’ll go beyond facts and dates, I will humbly delve into their psyche and try to understand the very essence of their nature. Why they did what they did and how they managed to carve out niches for themselves in our very volatile memories and short attention spans.

   These four women, two mythical and two historical,have always been quite the darlings of researchers, thinkers and authors. One has been put on the pedestal of eternal maternity and worshipped, her needs and wants totally obliterated. Another has been either harshly criticized or valiantly glorified. The third lady has been held as an example of what not to be and what not to do in a male dominated society too egoistic to acknowledge her fine talents and the last one has been loved by a man like no other woman in history, present and may be even the future.

    Whatever be the differences of their respective natures, their approaches to life, their world views and their responses to situations, one common thread binds these four women I am going to meet…they were destined to become famous and have their names etched in gold and fire, across time.

I sincerely hope you will enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoyed researching and writing about them.

Long time no see....

Its been a long time I wrote something worthwhile.....time and energy are limited and excuses abundant!
But I am working on stuff that requires a little in depth research and can't be written in a hurry, for that'll not only be controversial but also incorrect and unfair....

The only thing I can promise is...it may come a little late...but it will ,by no means, disappoint! (fingers crossed)

P

The Celebrations of Those Who Left Home

     6^th of October, 2011, Thursday, was the last day of this year’s Durga Puja. We call it VijayaDashami (Bijoya Doshomi...keeping true to the Bong pronunciation). I was whiling away time, sitting inside the pandal of the Pune Camp Durgotsav, watching the colourful mayhem. (I don’t think “Pandal” is a proper English word...its one of our many lingual gifts to the Queen’s language. The English word for Pandal is “marquee”)

The ladies were busy stuffing the divine Goddess’s mouth with sweetmeats and smearing vermillion on Her hair parting, so that She doesn’t forget the hospitality She received at Her parent’s home and that She remembers Her marital status and behaves in a manner becoming of a married lady with Her forgetful, ash smeared, tiger skin clad, yogi of a husband. And then, after the ladies promptly reminded each other that they all are married too (by smearing vermillion on one another - Shindoor Khela), it was time for our dear Goddess to leave us and embark on the journey back to Her husband’s place. (She must have had a gala time with us here, in this beautiful mellow October weather,away from the freezing peaks of Kailash, where She lives with her absentminded husband Shiva.)

     Here in Pune, along with the Goddess, it was time for Mansoor Dhaaki, who beats the dhaak (the dholak like instrument, only bigger, which is an integral part of all Durga Pujas and has amazing potential of making you nostalgic & homesick as well as driving you mad, with its sound) to go back to his native place, Murshidabad (West Bengal).  Satwant Singh, the tall and burly Sardar, who was in charge of managing the queues at the Pune Camp Durgotsav for these five days, will now return to his duties. Dr. Khan will get back to his clinic, attending to people’s teeth (for he is a dentist) and Mr. Iyer will now resume his desk job at some important state government office. Mrs Pandey, who chopped kilos of fruits meticulously, every single day during the Puja and blew the conch shell whenever the purohit (who arrived all the way from Calcutta) asked her to, will now go back to her duties of playing the perfect wife and gracious hostess of the parties at the Army Officer’s club. She will also resume her role as an active member of the Pune chapter of AWWA (Army Wives’ Welfare Association). I too will return to my mundane life, till the Goddess comes to pay us a visit again next year.

Durga Puja is the one of the times in the entire year when I regret living so far away from Calcutta. But thankfully, there is no dearth of Durga Pujas, conducted in the most authentic fashion, here in Pune. 
However, the most noticeable part of the Durga Puja here in the Pune Cantonment where I live, is the immense involvement of people from all communities and religions.

     All the five evenings, from Panchami to Navami were replete with colourful, entertaining and sometimes downright hilarious programs. On Panchami evening Mr. Iyer, who hails from Tamilnadu, and somehow got associated with the group that organises this Puja every year , recited Chandi Paath (a beautiful Sanskrit invocation to the Goddess) followed by a musical soiree by the AWWA ladies. On Shashthi evening, the local Army band played popular songs followed by a hilarious skit, under the direction of Dr. Khan. (I missed Saptami as I was down with fever and Ashtami evening I went to another Durgotsav in the city). Navami night at the Pune Camp Durgostav was again full of songs and dances, this time only to make us hold our breath and clap our hearts out as the specially abled youngsters (who attend a special school run by a local NGO), presented a complicated Tagore dance drama, Shyama, with meticulous perfection!!

      Many of them weren’t Bengalis. Quite a few not Hindus either. What was it then, which brought so many people, who weren’t even related to each other, together, under the warm and gentle gaze of the Goddess, sharing a few moments of simple, wholesome and unadulterated enjoyment, before we all went our own ways till the next year’s Puja?

      Mansoor Dhaki, pulls a rickshaw for most of the year in Murshidabad, but came all the way down to the Pune Camp Durgotsav in Pune, this year to play the dhaak. He has learnt the art of playing Dhaak from his father who in turn picked it up from his...and so on. It runs in their family, he says, playing dhaak at Durga Pujas. He doesn’t even remember what his actual family surname is, for they have been called Dhaki since the time of his great grandfather. He has been to the Durga Puja festivities in Allahabad, Kanpur, Jodhpur and Indore, beating the dhaak. Now, he’ll go back to Murshidabad. Till, next year, some other association organising Durga Puja, will need his services and summon him to another state.

      Auntie Agnes is a widow. So old that probably you can’t get any older. Yet, I have never failed to notice her each year for the last 8 years that I am here, sitting by herself in the Pune Camp Durgotsav pandal on Dashami morning. Looking like a small white mouse in her paisley printed calf length dress, she carries a rather English looking cookie tin in her old hands. She hails from Panjim, Goa. Her son, Percy Fernandes,has just got a job here in Pune. He dutifully brings his old mother along every year. This year Percy volunteered to help in managing the crowd during the Thakur Boron (farewell to the Goddess by married women) and immersion.

Though I have never done so myself (a little odd behaviour in a 25 year old, I think), after the Goddess is taken for immersion on Dashami, I have noticed that children playing around in the pandal playfully say “Shubho Bijoya” to Auntie Agnes, probably thinking she won’t understand what they are saying and it’ll be a great joke to laugh about. But every year, she hands out chocolate cookies to all the kids who wish her VijayaDashami.

     Mr. Roy, who is a civil servant, currently posted in Pune, has been sponsoring one entire day’s Puja here, for the last three years. His family is in West Bengal. There is no doubt that he misses them sorely. But he can’t take long vacations and visit them often. So it is this Pune Camp Durgotsav, which makes him feel a wee bit closer home, with all its loud camaraderie, sights and sounds.

     This, perhaps, is the harmony fostered by transferable jobs that pull you out of the comfort zone of your hometown. The pain of separation from your hometown and your own people and the feeling of loneliness in a strange city, perhaps, binds you even tighter to all those who you find to be in a similar situation. And then, perhaps, your definition of “own people” starts changing and broadening. (Is this what those ancient people, who had laid down the rule that the Durga Puja will be an “open to public”, social celebration and not a do-it-yourself affair in the remote corners of individual residences, had in their foresighted minds?).

     May be, what makes staying away from Calcutta during our biggest festival endurable are these small but meaningful intermittent interminglings we have with one another - like when my mother greets Beejal auntie (a newly married Gujarati lady who comes to the Pune Camp Durgotsav) and smears vermillion on her hair parting, exchanging sweets made of milk..........like when another lot of unruly kids run to Auntie Agnes and say “Shubho Bijoya!” in a singsong tone and she merely blinks, smiles and hands out chocolate cookies.........like when Arindam Mukherjee, a young IT professional , helping others with lifting up the heavy clay idol of Durga for immersion shouts out to his fellow mate “ Rahman, pull the idol up from the left, yaar! Move it, man!”

I think this is one of the reasons why She comes to us year after year. To make sure we all are bound tightly to each other, in bonds of mutual comfort away from our homes.


      *******************************************************

PS-  As a very young girl, in Calcutta, watching from the balcony of my residence, I would burst out crying when they took the idol of Durga away for immersion. The year long wait seemed impossible. I always asked my mom, “Why can’t we just keep her all year round, like they keep idols in a temple? Why can’t we have Durga Puja for the entire year?”. My mom always replied, “How can she come back if she doesn’t go away?" 
Today I know, She is the perfect Atithi (guest). She will come, charm everybody, fill everyone’s lives with joy and celebrations while she is here and demand everybody’s attention....but under no circumstances will she overstay her visit. She goes so that we yearn for her to come back...for your return is only significant when you first go away. 

The Head that Wears the Crown of Thorns

Team Anna has won. Though there's still a long way to go and this is just half the battle won, Congratulations! It is a great victory of the ruled over the rulers.

But this article is not about  the glorious revolution and its dramatic conclusion we all have witnessed.

Did you watch the live telecast from Lok Sabha on Saturday, when the Parliament unanimously agreed to Anna's terms? Were you watching Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee's heroic attempt to inject political statesmanship and spirit into the LokPal debate, while basically conceding to the public's demands?
Who do you think was cutting the most sorry figure out there, sitting quietly with his arms folded, on the left hand side of the finmin? Who is the one man who is completely out of place in this entire spectacle? If you still haven't guessed it, its our honourable Prime Minister Dr. ManMohan Singh. A man whose personal record is as spotless and neat as the bright white clothes he wears. Honestly, my heart goes out to Dr. Singh...a man caught in the wrong job.

For a few moments let's forget...or try to forget...the many scams and scandals that have grabbed headlines during all these days of Dr. Singh's tenure. Lets just simply look at this highly educated, globally respected 78 year old gentleman (and gentle he definitely is) who happens to our Prime Minister...a position which no one wants to touch with a barge pole today.
A gold medallist in Economics from Panjab Univeristy,a PhD scholar from the University of Cambridge, a Professor of International Trade at St. John's College, Cambridge,a DPhil from University of Oxford, Honorary Professor at DU'S prestigious Delhi School of Economics and at JNU, Delhi, Chief (Financing for Trade Section), United Nations Secretariat, Economic Adviser to the Ministry of Foreign Trade and Ministry of Finance, GOI, Director and Governor of Reserve Bank of India, Director of IDBI, Deputy Chairman of the Planning Commission of India, Finance Minister, Leader of the Opposition in the Rajya Sabha and finally...the honourable Prime Minister of India. A globally renowned Economist, "one of the world's most revered leaders" and " a man of uncommon decency and grace" (as The Independent describes him), "a virtuoso among Economists" as Nobel laureate Amartya Sen calls him.......... Tell me, is there any other Prime Minister or even any Head of State (including Presidents, Kings, Queens, Sultans, Princes, Chancellors)  in the world who can match upto this man's educational qualifications or job experience?
And I have not even included Dr. Singh's 30 odd honours and awards including a "World Statesman Award", an "Outstanding Parliamentarian Award", a "Padmavibhushan", a couple of "Finance Minster of the year" awards.

Today, Dr. ManMohan Singh has been slandered in every possible way. Social networks are full of hate messages for him and people have very very serious doubts about his leadership. He has long been criticised as a puppet PM and the recent scams and scandals have bruised Dr. Singh's image very seriously in the eyes of the common man. Young IIT graduates spurned him publicly at their convocation and refused to receive their degrees from him. (Now, that was bad!). How could a group of fresh college pass outs mock a totally untainted man of his academic and scholarly calibre?
Today when things have gone wrong, when the gutsy storm of public awakening is rocking the foundations of the Government, Dr. Singh has been made the scapegoat. Public ire is focussed like a laser gun on this man and his glorious past record has been blissfully forgotten.

Rewind to 1991, when Dr. Singh was chosen to be the Finance Minister of the PV Narsimha Rao government. When he stepped in, India was in a deep deep deep fiscal deficit of around 8.5% of the GDP. The Balance of Payments was too much for us to pay back.(Balance of Payments accounts are an accounting record of all the monetary transctions between a country and the rest of the world).The nation had a foreign reserve of only..ONLY USD 1 billion!!! (for an entire country..that's peanuts). That amount was just about enough to pay for only ONE WEEK of imports. Cutting out the complicated economics of it...the country was in deep debt and facing grave financial crisis. It was Dr. ManMohan Singh who was instrumental in bringing in relief in the form of LPG (Liberalization, Privatization and Globalization), ending the infamous Licence Raj (a system that inhibited the prosperity of private businesses) in India and bringing in the desperately needed IMF (International Monetary Fund) cash to bail us out of our poor economic situation. Dr. Singh, along with his associates, opened India's doors to Foreign Direct Investment and thus, brought the country's markets closer to the global playing grounds. Dr. ManMohan Singh liberalized India's economy and opened us up to the world. Even as a PM, Dr. Singh has always been pro globalization.
If you were the monitor of your class and few students were caught cheating in the exams,would it be your fault?
True, this government has probably been the most corrupt since independence, but the PM is not.Definitely not.

Perhaps Dr. ManMohan Singh should have never stepped into the murky world of politics. The soft spoken, blue-turbaned economist should have stuck to academia...or at least the RBI. Why did he get spurned by a handful of kids at the IIT convocation? Is it because between a prestigious chair and an uneasy throne, he chose the latter? And now that circumstances have changed, the air is charged with the electricity of a nation rising in revolt, the youngsters see him more as a politician than an academic and intellectual of note.Till everything was fine, he was a great economist and a fine man. And now, he is just a mute representative of a group of corrupt people.
His lifestyle is frugal and he is an embodiment of highest personal integrity. Considering this is India's Prime Minister I am talking about,just so you know, the private car Dr. Singh owns, is a Maruti 800. (Every single person I know, has a far more expensive vehicle.)

When Dr. ManMohan Singh, economist, philosopher, thinker, teacher, chose to become a politician...he deprived the academia and intelligentsia of a great scholar and a rare gem.

I feel sorry for this man...caught in the wrong job...with a crown of thorns on his head.