A multiverse of Ramayanas

The mythological multiverse

The idea of a Ramayana multiverse isn’t a clever modern twist on a religious epic. The idea is also reflected in the myth of Kakabhushundi. The sage who was turned into a crow because of a curse—but became a devotee of Rama, and gained the gift of time and multidimensional travel. He is said to have witnessed 11 different iterations of the Ramayana and 16 of the Mahabharatha. Each has their own plotline and very different outcomes. 

Eleven is a paltry number compared to the 300 Ramayanas traced by AK Ramanujan in his iconic essay. The greatest myths inevitably become a franchise—to use a Hollywood phrase. Ramayana is no different. Below, we explore some of its unusual universes—created as the story travelled across religions and geographies. Each reminding us that the shape of divinity lies in the imagination of the story-teller.

The Muslim faces of Rama

It’s hardly surprising that Rama has been absorbed into Islamic theology—after centuries of cultural exchange and assimilation. He is considered one among 124,000 prophets who preceded Muhammad. While Rama is not mentioned by name, Krishna makes an appearance in the Hadith: 

Scholars have documented Muhammad’s statements on Krishna in the ancient Hadith manuscripts. In his works Firdous-ul-Akhbar and Tariq-ul-Hamadan, the twelfth-century Islamic scholar Abu Mansur al-Dailami quotes Muhammad as saying, “There was a prophet in India, who was black in complexion, and whose name was Kahina.” Numerous scholars quoted this verse in their writings.

The Mughal Ramayana: Akbar was the first to order a translation of the epic into Persian—a task his scholars considered heresy. When Jahangir ascended the throne, he commissioned the Ramayan-e-Masihi—which is written as a love poem, not scripture:

Although Masih composed his work based on Valmiki‘s Ramayana , he transformed the story as a Persian romance between two lovers. Ram and Sita. His work also reflects a mystical allegorical dimension while referring to Rama as ‘body‘ and Sita as the ‘soul‘. The attempt of Rama in searching of his beloved Sita frequently work as [an] allegory of mystical love of a soul seeking unity with the divine.

It is also the only version of the Ramayana that includes the Prophet Isa (Jesus) and his mother Mariyam (Mary). 

Something to see: The Akbar-era manuscript is now kept at the Jaipur Museum—and includes stunning illustrations—as of this image of Sita shying away from Hanuman—mistaking him for Ravana:

The emphasis on syncretism reaches a new peak under his grandson Dara Shikoh—who commissions a version of the Vasistha Ramayana—where Rama receives spiritual wisdom from the sage Vasistha:

In this work, Rama is presented as a disciple rather than a semi-divine king. The story begins with Dara dreaming of Rama and Vasishta and Vasishta asking Rama to feed Dara. Rama embraces Dara and feeds him sweets which seem to portray a Sufi understanding. Different from Rama of Akbar‘s translations, the attempt is made to combine ruler-ship with spiritual realisation and powers.

As an aside: In the well-known Thai version of the epic, Ravana is the love-struck anti-hero:

The Ramakirti admires Ravana's resourcefulness and learning; his abduction of Sita is seen as an act of love and is viewed with sympathy. The Thais are moved by Ravana’s sacrifice of family, kingdom and life itself for the sake of a woman. His dying words later provide the theme of a famous love poem of the nineteenth century, an inscription of a Wat of Bangkok… The fall of Ravana here makes one sad. It is not an occasion for unambiguous rejoicing, as it is in Valmiki.

Below is an image of Ravana aka Tosakanth threatening Rama and Lakshmana:

A Middle Eastern import? It will be sacrilegious to Hindu nationalists, but some scholars claim that the epic has its roots in the Middle East:

In his book Thoolika Chalanangal, the academic K Balarama Panicker suggests that the practice of sun-worship in ancient Egypt, or in its vicinity, led to the creation of the Ramayana. Panicker writes that “Ramayana” literally means Ram’s way of life, and that it is a transformation of a word referring to sun-worship. He posits that the word “Rabbi,” Arabic for god, has the same root as “Ravi,” a Sanskrit word for the sun, and that the word “Rahman,” another Arabic word used to refer to god, is connected to chants of Ram. 

 

According to the scholar M Venkata Ratnam, Dasharatha was Tushratta, a Mitanni king in the fourteenth century BCE, while Ram was Rameses II, a pharaoh who ruled Egypt in the thirteenth century BCE. 

For full-on fusion: None can beat the syncretism of the Mappila Ramayana—which reflects the great comingling of traditions among Malabar Muslims:

Dasharatha’s wedding is called a nikah. The Arabic term maut is used instead of the Malayalam maranam to refer to death. Dasharatha is called Ram’s bappa—the Mappila term for father—while Ravan’s sister Surpanakha, depicted wearing Mappila attire, is called pengalumma. Characters consume kozhi, a type of chicken biryani, and pathal, a steamed Malabar dish.

The most entertaining bit is this exchange between Surpanakha and ‘Lama’:

In John Richard Freeman’s English translation of the Mappila Ramayanam, there is a passage called ‘Surpanakha’s Overtures of Love’. An interesting exchange between Ram and Surpanakha occurs here, where he says to her, “For a man, there is a woman, and for a woman there is a man: this is the law in the Shariat!” To this, her reply is: “If a man keeps four or five women, there is no problem. But that’s not allowed for the woman; that’s the law in the Shariat.”

Of course, Rama still turns her down—leading to all the grief thereafter.

Meanwhile, in SE Asia: Ramayana is even more steeped in Islamic themes and characters in these Muslim-dominated countries. For example, in Indonesia, a relatively modern retelling—Serathu Kandam—includes Adam, Muhammad, and Allah as characters. And the archangel Jibreel acts as intermediary between god and humans—in the midst of the war between Rama and Ravana. 

The ‘not a good girl’ Sita

In popular telling she is the ultimate aadarsh nari—a paragon of chastity and virtue. But in many lesser-known universes, Sita is powerful, raunchy and—god forbid—even incestuous. 

Sita the conqueror: Valmiki himself penned a different version of the Ramayana—to do justice to his heroine. In the Adbhut Ramayana, she is the awe-inspiring power who conquers Ravana—not Rama. A great part of the story follows almost the exact same trajectory as the original Ramayana. It veers off the original script upon his triumphant return to Ayodhya—when Sita tells Rama of the far more powerful thousand-headed twin brother of the demon-god. 

Her valiant husband immediately rushes back to conquer him—only to fall unconscious on the battlefield. At the sight of her husband, Sita transforms into the goddess Kali—and “destroys hundreds of demons, severs all of Ravana’s thousand heads with one stroke, and proceeds to play with the heads like balls.” 

An even more unflattering version: of Rama appears in the Odiya iteration—Vilanka Ramayana. This Rama is hardly mighty and a little bit sneaky:

When all efforts to defeat this [1000-headed] Ravana fail, it was decided that Sita’s help should be sought. Much to his discomfort, Ram asks Sita to help, and Sita steps in valiantly. She knows that this is no ordinary demon and special fights call for special moves, so she uses the five arrowed weapon of Kamdev, the panchsar of Kandarp. This unsettles the demon and the Vilanka Ravan comes to her with a begging bowl, asking for love. As he sits there bent before her, Ram beheads him.

Not exactly the great warrior of the Valmiki epic.

Something to see: This is the awesome cover of the Kannada version of the Adbhut Ramayana:

The sexual Sita: In many versions of the Ramayana—especially among tribes—there is great sexual tension between Sita and Lakshmana. In some versions, this bhabhi-devar subtext is spelled out more plainly—where Sita tries to seduce Lakshmana. And as Ramanujan notes, in Santal oral traditions, Sita is sometimes unfaithful—often seduced by Lakshmana or by Ravana.

The Doniger drama: Hindu nationalists have been far more enraged by any suggestion of a desirable Sita—than a weak Rama. Scholar Wendy Doniger got into serious trouble for her interpretation of Valmiki’s Ramayana in her book ‘The Hindus: An Alternative History’. One of the many reasons for outrage: bit of ‘evidence’ that suggest a hidden tension between the two brothers over Sita:

When Rama goes off to hunt the golden deer and tells Lakshmana to guard Sita, Sita thinks she hears Rama calling (it’s a trick) and urges Lakshmana to find and help Rama. Lakshmana says Rama can take care of himself. Sita taunts Lakshmana, saying, “You want Rama to perish, Lakshmana, because of me. You’d like him to disappear; you have no affection for him. For with him gone, what could I, left alone, do to stop you doing the one thing that you came here to do? You are so cruel. Bharata has gotten you to follow Rama, as his spy. That’s what it must be. But I could never desire any man but Rama. I would not even touch another man, not even with my foot! (3.43.6-8, 20-24, 34).”

Yes, Valmiki’s Ramayana is a multiverse in itself. You never know where you’re going to land. 

Point to note: The Hindutva brigade doesn’t seem as exercised by the Buddhist tale Dasaratha Jataka—where Rama and Sita are brother and sister in a tale of incest.

The not-so-celibate Hanuman 

The great symbol of male asceticism also gets a sexual makeover in South East Asia. The most popular myth is that of Suvannamaccha—the Golden Mermaid—who steals his heart. Plot twist: She is also the daughter of Ravana—which results in a classic Bollywood plotline:

One day, Hanuman questions Suvannamaccha's motive for hindering the [Lanka] bridge construction. She reveals she was acting on her father Ravana's orders. Upon learning the true purpose of the bridge from Hanuman, Suvannamaccha has a change of heart and she also gives birth to Hanuman's son, Macchanu, a character missing from Valmiki’s Ramayana. With a vanara’s torso and the lower body of a fish, Macchanu opposes Hanuman later during a battle with Ravana’s army.

Somethings to see: This is a lovely Thai mural of the besotted couple:

The depiction of Macchanu is fabulously fantastical:

And here he is battling his father:

Point to remember: The Ramayana is filled with delightful animal-human characters—who are often more compelling than the leads. This classical painting shows Hanuman and the bear king Jambavan meeting Sampati, the elder brother of Jatayu.

The bottomline: We leave you to enjoy your Diwali—with two lovely and very different Ramayanas to watch. This is the un-remastered version of a Japanese anime version—created back in 1991:

And as always, we urge you to watch our favourite version: ‘Sita Sings the Blues’.

Reading List

• In 2023, we did a Big Story focusing on the very many Sitas in these Ramayanas—with lovely images. 
• AK Ramanujan’s essay is a must-read—which is probably why it was taken off the Delhi University curriculum. 
• Abira Bhattacharya pens a long and lovely essay on the Ramayana in Mughal paintings. 
• In case you have a Caravan subscription, we highly recommend Azeez Tharuvana on the many Muslim versions of the Ramayana. 
• Indian Express offers more on the Mappila Ramayana from Kerala. 
• The Uni of Washington blog has a good round-up of the many SE Asian Ramayanas. 
• Chandrica Barua in Deccan Herald recounts the tale of Hanuman and the mermaid. 
• Scroll focuses on spin-off worthy women characters—the panch kanyas—in the Ramayana and Mahabharatha. 
• In the same vein, Outlook magazine looks at Sita’s sisters in the Ramayana.
• Firstpost has a lovely piece on Meerut—the hometown of Ravana’s wife, Mandodari.