Sita Through The Ages

As a major epic of the Indian subcontinent, the Ramayana plays a paramount role in shaping theological and philosophical ideologies. Within diverse societies, which range from Janakpur and Ayodhya to Lanka, it is retold over 300 times while incorporating elements of indigenous cultures. Yet, some retellings prevail over all others, such as Valmiki’s Ramayana and Tulsidas’ Ramcharitmanas. I shall analyse and compare these versions of the Ramayana with Chandrabati’s Ramayana. Chandrabati’s Ramayana holds a place equal - if not greater - to traditional versions as a feminine retelling that portrays Sita’s character through the unique lens of women’s folk traditions.

More than any other figure in the epic, Sita is rendered with extraordinary skill by Valmiki as a character capable of the expression of a full and finely drawn range of emotions. Although she is often portrayed as the perfect meek and submissive wife, she is capable of being independent-minded, strong-willed, and, when the situation calls for it, sharp-tongued. As a result, we can read in the Ayodhyakanda her scathing condemnation of Rama's attempt to persuade her to remain in the capital when he is exiled. In the Aranyakanda, one can see her willfulness in persuading Rama to pursue the illusory deer in order to satisfy her childish desire, as well as her darker side when she rudely calls into question faithful Laksmana's motives in her worry for her husband. Moreover, she is given some great and powerful speeches in that Book and the Sundarakanda, in which, despite her anxiety, she contemptuously instructs mighty Ravana on his misjudgement and the dreadful retribution that awaits him.

Sita asks for the Golden Deer. Source: Wikimedia Commons

The two agni pareeksha scenes are developed as significant dramatic moments by Valmiki in order to induce a sense of absolute shock and astonishment in the reader and all those characters who see Rama demanding them of Sita. While Rama’s demand for an agni pareeksha is indeed offensive and humiliating, Sita’s act of undertaking the fire ordeal is presented by the various writers of the Ramayana more as an act of defiance, rather than as submission to Rama’s tyranny.

Sita’s humiliation in the agni pareeksha is explained away either by shifting the responsibility for it away from Rama, or by invoking some unknown design of the gods, or—most inventively of all, in the Adhyatma Ramayana and followed in Tulasidas’s version—by revealing that the Sita abducted by Ravana was not Sita at all but a mere image devised by Rama himself to keep the real Sita unpolluted.

Sita undergoes the Agni Pariksha. Source: Quora

Given Valmiki's persistent portrayal of Sita's strength and independence, and the views of various retellings of the event, it's amazing that she should have been transformed into a model of obedience and dependency. Tulasidas bears the responsibility for this. His Ramacharitmanas completely reconstructs Sita in the image of what we have come to see as the delicate maiden of mediaeval romances, whose only strength lies in her self-abnegation and unquestioning obedience to her husband, and whose voice is raised only to declare her fidelity to him. Sita's portrayal has been so ingrained in Indian culture that the older notion of her independence and power has been forgotten. 

By no means am I claiming that Valmiki portrays Sita as a powerful woman. The story's overall theme is that she adheres to the warrior culture's ethos and plays the role allocated to women, and she invokes the obligation of a faithful wife here, as she did in the pre-exile situation. Instead, my argument is that she expresses herself as an independent individual. Even more astonishingly, she bases her arguments on social welfare and dynastic necessity, which she prioritises over the patriarchal law of the husband's ultimate authority over the wife. If there is irony in Sita disobeying her husband in order to serve him, it only emphasises the necessity for us to free her from conventional readings.

In an effort to explore Sita in her many forms, and to witness her evolution and devolution in broad contexts, I shall analyse Sita as an independent as she is depicted in the lesser-known but equally important Chandrabati Ramayana.

The assertion of an independent self, expressed as grief, forms Sita’s character most movingly in Chandrabati’s Ramayana. While her Sita does not protest against injustice, she realises with intense grief, not only her own fate but the fate of all women. Navaneeta Dev Sen has just lately recognised this Ramayana as an intentionally designed narrative that hinges on women’s experience as understood through the lives of Mandodari, Sita, and Chandrabati herself, having been disregarded by critics throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries as an incomplete sketch. Chandrabati - first woman poet of medieval Bengal - notes how social power is fundamentally tilted against women and how women can do nothing but accept their lot. This is hardly surprising because Chandrabati was a product of the sixteenth century, by which time women had lost their voice completely and had been brought up to accept Manu’s infamous fiat that never in her life may a woman have independence. Chandrabati’s Sita is only too aware of the injustice inherent in being a woman and yet sees no way out of submission to the dictates of society. It makes one wonder how throttling was the experience of a woman in a society where her voice is raised only to be silenced immediately. Yet, the lack of explicit protest does not mean that the injustices committed are mutely accepted. Though apparently passive, the central figure whether it is Mandodari or Sita or Chandrabati, nevertheless acts through her words as witness to the systemic oppression of her society. 

Image: Sita in exile. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

Chandrabati's attitude, as well as her diction and manner, are completely distinct. Chandrabati does not show any signs of wanting to write sophisticated urban literature. She also didn't want her Ramayana to be associated with either the court or the devotional Bhakti traditions. She has never given Rama any respects—her Ramayana does not even feature a brief homage to the epic hero at the opening or end! She also fails to convey the spiritual benefits of listening to the Ramayana. Chandrabati's Ramayana begins modestly with a reference to a small river in her village, quickly establishing that her work is distinct from the so-called "Great Tradition."

Instead, Chandrabati specifically incorporates women's folk tradition. Epic themes like war are replaced by essentially female concerns. For instance, in the Janmaleela sections, Chandrabati carefully describes the pregnancies of Mandodari - who gives birth to Sita - and Kaushalya who delivers Rama to the world. Chandrabati's Ramayana is, in fact, an oral Sitayana. Chandrabati questions the conventional hero's nobility and brilliance by deliberately composing an epic using women's songs, and accuses Rama of being guilty for the destruction of his homeland. She sticks to the central theme of Indian epics—indeed, of all epics—the struggle between good and evil. Only, whereas in a patriarchal system, this eternal conflict is represented by male characters, it is depicted by women in her Ramayana: Lakshmi versus Alakshmi and Sita versus Kukuya. Chandrabati therefore undermined both the material and the form of the male epic tradition. This Bengali Ramayana is thus exceptional in assigning, in its very different ways, a self-conscious personhood to Sita.

It is apparent that this is a secular work, as the story was written as a simple human drama rather than a divine mystery. It is a woman's narrative, an unconventional rendition of the Rama saga in which Rama is marginalised first and then criticised from a female perspective. Rather than applauding Rama, Chandrabati frequently interjects into the tale to comment on Rama's folly, to advise and guide him, and to accuse him of causing the destruction that will befall Ayodhya.

Image: Sita Sarama Chit Chat. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Deemed illegitimate by 19th and 20th century historians, Chandrabati’s Ramanyana faded into obscurity due to its pervasive use of women’s oral and folk traditions. This is despite the existence of various patriarchal fan-fictionalised retellings of similar background and nature, as evident in the Bhakti tradition of Tulsidas which incorporated local languages and tales. 

Sita’s character has faced gross injustices because of a patriarchal society that prioritises the voice, comfort, and story of the man over the woman. As a result, Sita’s earliest characterisation by Valmiki and the feminist retelling by Chandrabati have been discarded to time. A trend of Sita’s subversion can be seen first with Tulsidas rewriting her from Valmiki’s independent character into a damsel in distress, and then with Chandrabati’s Sitayana never having been recognised by historians as a legitimate Ramayana in the 19th and 20th centuries, hence fading into obscurity. All this, in order to preserve Sita’s image as the ideal wife, and tout her as a symbol of submission to Indian wives everywhere, like Penelope of Ithaca is in the West.

The Sita we know, love, and idealise today is a symbol crafted to cover up a man’s mistakes. If we are to look to her for inspiration and standar, how then may the devotee not admire this Sita? And why, then, would they not bring up their daughters to be like Sita? For the sake of a patriarchal household and government, it is by robbing Sita of her voice that victimhood has been made palatable for women through literary and historical manipulation.