The episode of Rāma & Lakṣmaṇa meeting Shabarī in Vālmīki’s Rāmāyaṇa is one of the more peculiar, intriguing, somewhat mystifying, & thought-provoking episodes in Indian literature.
It raises more questions than we can find definitive answers to, and offers a tiny, wee little glimpse into a lost world – the world of Ancient India – which remains shrouded in mystery to us, today.
The episode is dealt with in 74th Sarga {Chapter} of the 3rd Kāṇḍa or Division, i.e. the Araṇya Kāṇḍa.
I’d like to put some of the most pertinent issues implicit {or explicit} in this Chapter, in a few points:-
1. The issue of Shabarī being an out-caste.
2. The issue of Shabarī being a woman.
3. The issue of self-immolation, i.e. burning one’s body {obviously, in fire, in a pyre} – which is the most important issue, because this is related to the issue of Satī.
4. The issue of Shabarī’s so-called “salvation” or “emancipation” or whatever was intended by the original author.
As kids, we all heard of the event of Rāma & Lakṣmaṇa meeting Shabarī – of her gathering fruits or berries for the both of them – and offering to them out of her love & devotion, i.e. out of her intense feeling of bhakti.
We all heard that Shabarī had tasted the berries {or fruits – I can’t clearly remember what, precisely} so that she could distinguish the sour ones from the sweet ones, and offer only the sweet ones to her adorable Lord Rāma.
Hence, they were not absolutely clean – i.e. they were “jhooṭhā” – already tasted – that Rāma, being affectionate & indulgent towards his devotees, ate the “jhooṭhā” of an outcaste woman – {who, strictly speaking, shouldn’t cross his path, if we’re to believe all the caste-regulations we were told about, in childhood} – but Lakṣmaṇa, not being such a lofty & evolved being, threw them away {with a certain degree of aversion & contempt}.
Very sweet & revealing as the event might be {about Rāma’s approach towards his devotees from all sections of society}, it does not occur in Vālmīki’s Rāmāyaṇa.
As far as I know, it doesn’t occur in Tulsidās’s Rāma-carita-Mānas either.
It probably comes from some other text – maybe one of the Purāṇas – or some other recension of the Rāmāyaṇa.
Indeed, it is not easy to decide what’s the precise purpose for introducing the episode.
It occurs between Rāma & Lakṣmaṇa’s conflict with the monster called Kabandha, who turns out to be a cursed Dānava – and his going down to the lake Pampā, and thereafter meeting with the exiled Sugrīva & Hanumān.
It doesn’t exactly serve as a connecting link between the events – rather, something that happens along the way.
In other words, it is symbolic.
Otherwise, Vālmīki wouldn’t have included it.
In the Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇa, which is a much later Medieval text, though, Kabandha directs Rāma & Lakṣmaṇa to Shabarī’s hermitage – saying that she will “tell them everything”.
Presumably, about Sītā’s whereabouts.
And this is what Shabarī does: she informs Rāma that Sītā has been abducted by Rāvaṇa, and is in Laṅkā.
But this doesn’t happen in the original text, i.e. Vālmīki’s Rāmāyaṇa.
The Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇa, for all its Vedantic philosophical interpretation, has little or no historical value.
Not to meander in this labyrinth further, I’ll concentrate on what happens in Vālmīki’s text.
The first important point to be noticed is that Shabarī is an outcaste.
Not a “lower-caste” – not a Shūdra – but someone outside the 4-classed catur-varṇa system.
She falls into a rather strange, mysterious category of hill-tribes known as Bhīlas, Shabaras, Niṣādas, etc.
If there is any hint of any history in any of these epics & legends, Bhīlas, Shabaras, and Niṣādas – strictly speaking, stand outside the entire realm of Vedic culture.
From all the references & allusions scattered over various texts, they were some sort of aboriginal tribes, which were certainly not part of the Vedic fold, and were as good as “mlechhas”.
They were more tolerated than hated – more despised than persecuted.
In the Rāmāyaṇa itself, the reader has already read about another outcaste man, the Niṣāda King called Guhā, who ferries Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa & Sītā across the River Gaṅgā at the outset of their exile.
I will come to the issue of Guhā sometime else, but here we come across another outcaste devotee of Rāma, i.e. Shabarī.
Do ask yourself why Vālmīki has chosen an outcaste woman – {at least Guhā was a man & a king} – to depict a very special relationship between her & Rāma; indeed, why does he paint her with the most unexpected, extraordinary colors?
If outcastes were so vehemently hated, then why choose such a character – with such a background – why include such an episode at all??
What purpose does it serve?
At the very outset, Kabandha tells Rāma that Shabarī will go to svarga-loka, i.e. Heaven {3.73.27}.
If Hindus were such bigoted monsters, then why accord such high honors to such a base, degraded person?
Indeed, neither Tulsidās nor the Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇa spare any opportunity to present Shabarī as the lowest of the low, by birth.
But Vālmīki does no such thing.
There is no contempt for her either being a woman or an outcaste.
On the contrary, she is called “siddhā” {3.74.6} – which is indeed, a very high honor, to be paid to an outcaste woman.
Does this mean that an outcaste woman could actually become like a great Ṛṣi; in other words, a Siddha?
As I said, there is – initially – a slight element of perplexity in the text.
The first impression is that Shabarī is simply a servant in the employ of the lofty Ṛṣi-Munis who used to inhabit that hermitage and have now left.
Certainly, a hermitage full of sages & saints engaging in various forms of askesis, self-mortification & self-denial, yajñas & tapasyā, yoga, etc., would need some people to do various mundane, menial tasks.
Why should an outcaste woman – belonging to uncivilized tribes following cruel rites – be chosen? – is the first unanswerable question.
The first impression is that she was basically employed in doing menial tasks around the āśrama.
But a careful perusal of the texts – including that of Tulsidās & the Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇa – belie such assumptions.
A careful examination shows that the outcaste “servant” woman Shabarī is something of a Ṛṣi – probably a Yoginī, herself.
In 3.74.10, she is not only called a Siddhā a second time, but also a tāpasī, i.e. a practitioner of tapas, or askesis, or austerity.
If she were a mere servant performing all dirty, menial tasks, such forms of address would be unwarranted, inapt, & unpersuasive.
She is also dressed like a typical forest-dwelling Ṛṣi, i.e. in bark, in the skin of the blackbuck, and wears her hair matted & tufted – that’s why she’s called “jaṭilā-cīra-kṛṣṇa-ajina-ambar
jaṭila means an ascetic {by virtue of Indian ascetics wearing their matted hair in a tuft above the head} – which means that Shabarī, called jaṭilā, is a female ascetic.
She is also called nitya-dharma-sthita {by Kabandha, 3.73.27} – i.e. one who forever abides in dharma – as well as dharma-saṃsthita {3.74.7} – which basically means the same thing.
No contempt is shown to her, either for being a woman, or a servant, or an outcaste.
On the contrary, very interestingly, Rāma calls her śramaṇī {3.74.7}.
It is well known that “Brāhmaṇas-&-Śramaṇas” were a category of saints, anchorites, renunciates, & sages unto themselves, in Ancient India – and these were famous across the world.
They are mentioned in the Rock Edicts of Ashoka, and are revered, sought to be protected, and given charity, by the Buddhist Ashoka himself.
They were – at least theoretically & technically – the most highly respected of all people.
That Shabarī is called
· Siddhā twice, that she is called
· Tāpasī, and that she is called
· Śramaṇī,
cannot all be mere figures of speech, or mere politeness.
There is an inner consistency in all the words used, which point her to be being a sage, a sort of yoginī, herself.
Which means that askesis, or austerity, or tapas, and perhaps even yoga, was open to women, and even out-castes.
The rewards she is given, are also concomitant with a sagely-intellectual-saintly status, not that of a mere servant.
Why would a woman, belonging to one of the most heinous & despised communities, be accorded a station in “imperishable worlds” {akṣaya-loka, 3.74.15} – the “best of worlds” {vara loka, 3.74.15} – or, as Manmatha Nath Dutt has translated it, “that best land of the celestials whence none returneth”?
And what follows the short dialog between herself and Rāma-Laksmaṇa further belies the idea that she’s merely being rewarded for menial service.
She is being rewarded for yoga.
Here’s the most important point.
After meeting Rāma & Lakṣmaṇa, and showing them around the hermitage of Mataṅga, Shabarī burns herself.
Why?
What for?
After she “enters the fire”, she immediately is seen in a sort of divine form.
It would be correct to say that she acquires a divine body.
We’re told {3.74.33-34}, of her, that she’s:
« divya-ābharaṇa-saṃyuktā, i.e. adorned with divine or celestial ornaments,
« divya-mālya-anulepanā, i.e. wearing divine garlands, & smeared over with divine unguents, and is
« divya-ambara-dharā, i.e. attired in divine robes.
This exaltation, this grand & glorious high state, is not reward for merely being a diligent menial servant – this is the reward for achieving a certain state of yoga, or at any rate, a high level of tapas.
Do keep in mind all the other inputs given to us, by the text.
They seriously undermine, if not completely overthrow, all our preconceived notions about casteism & the condition of women, in Ancient India.
After burning herself, after renouncing her {physical} body, we’re told Shabarī “rises into the welkin like unto a blazing fire” – she is dressed in celestial robes & ornaments, as mentioned before – and irradiated the entire region like flashes of lightning.
Such powerful, impassioned “poetry” {if we insist on calling it mere poetry} is not concomitant with the contempt we associate with lower-castes & women in the minds of Ancient Indians.
Shabarī acquires a beautiful form, delightful to behold – which is called “priya-darśana” {3.74.34}.
And then, we’re told, that Shabarī, who is ātma-samādhinā {3.74.35} – yet another indication of her being an ascetic, a yoginī, and not just a servant – went to those pious realms {puṇya-sthāna, 3.74.35}, where the maharṣis whom she was associated with {siddha-sammatā, 3.74.10}, dwelt – i.e. she went to Svarga, she went to Heaven {as said by Kabandha}.
In the context of the issue of Satī, it is important to note 2 points here:-
1. If the story of Shabarī is symbolic, or allegorical, so is her self-immolation.
In this case, every element & aspect of the episode – & the epic itself – is symbolic – doesn’t have to be taken literally – has philosophical significance – and all these self-immolations, burnings, enterings into the fire, etc. are all symbolic, and none are reflective of actual practices.
2. If the story is “based on” certain historical facts or at least actual, historical customs & rites – i.e. rites which used to be followed once upon a time, in the ancient world – then self-immolation, or renouncing one’s physical body by burning oneself on a pyre – was something quite acceptable, almost normal – but not a gratitutous suicide, of course.
In that case, Shabarī is a female tapasvī or sādhu – and such tapasvins or sādhus, at a certain point, committed their bodies to the flames, i.e. they renounced their bodies.
They would do this because they sought higher, subtler, more exalted states of existence above & beyond those of this Earth.
We see almost an identical instance in the case of the Sage Sharabhaṅga, who also immolates himself in a fire – and we’re told, ascends to Brahma-loka, in the 5th Chapter of the Aranya Kāṇḍa.
I will come to that episode later.
Nobody has compelled or manipulated either Sharabhaṅga or Shabarī, to burn themselves.
They seem to be in no particular distress – their honor & dignity is not at stake anywhere – and they are neither disabled nor diseased.
There is no specific reason for them to set their own bodies on fire.
But they do so.
Allegorically, these are all indicative of yogic processes.
Considered literally, given all the so-called magic, miracle, fantasy & poetic imagination & license in all ancient texts, we cannot say if such people existed, or committed such acts, but the inferences we can safely draw are:-
1. Women were allowed to become ascetics, and practise austerities or ascesis.
Apart from Shabarī, there are other instances of such female yogins.
2. Outcastes were allowed to become ascetics – at least at one point, at least in some phase of Ancient Indian history: whether or not these were exceptional cases, cannot be determined.
3. Outcaste-women were allowed to become ascetics.
We should not forget that Shabarī is called tapodhanā by Rāma {3.74.8}.
tapodhana means “one whose wealth is askesis”, or ascetic power, or the power acquired through tapas.
This is a very common term used for addressing tapasvins, sādhus, ṛṣis, and munis etc.
That she is called tapodhanā, tāpasī, siddhā, and śramaṇī, ALL PROVE that though she was – apparently – a woman of a very deeply despised community, outside the varṇa-system – she had become an ascetic, something like a sannyāsin or a sādhu.
And how can this be possible without some knowledge of Vedic-Upaniṣadic philosophy, and the Vedic way of life?
Indeed, Rāma asks her {3.74.8-9}:
“O Thou of sweet speech {“cāru-bhāṣiṇī”}, have you got all the hindrances to your asceticism removed?
Is thy asceticism growing stronger everyday?
O Tapodhanā, have you controlled your anger & your diet?
{These are necessary for all renunciates & yogins, in their quest for mokṣa, or higher realms of bliss after death.
Have you observed the Law {niyama – rules & regulations} and attained bliss of the mind {“manasaḥ sukham”}?”
What does all this prove?
That Shabarī is an ascetic, a female Ṛṣi, a female Muni.
4. Renunciates, yogīs, sādhus, tapasvins, etc. used to burn themselves and renounce their bodies & this world.
They did this because of their beliefs, their tremendous faith, in their own specific cosmology & metaphysics & spirituality, and of their own volition.
This was considered quite normal, and nobody saw anything grotesque, or barbaric, or inhuman, in this.
Svarga-loka can be safely called the realm of the Sun, i.e. Sūrya-loka – and it was the great aspiration of holy ascetics & renunciates to dwell in such a region of effulgence & bliss.
All these points should be kept in mind while discussing the issues of “casteism”, the freedoms allowed to women, and the whole concept of self-immolation, or renunciation of one’s body, & the related issue of Satī.
But if the whole thing were allegorical?
Which would actually make more sense?
Then the task faced by Indians is to “crack the code” and understand the deeper, esoteric, recondite meanings, and unearth the buried mysteries, in their own texts.
