Was the Ramayana actually set in and around today’s Afghanistan?

 An examination of a book by physicist Rajesh Kochhar debunks the notion that the events of the epic took place in modern-day India.

History is said to be the original discipline in the faculties today known as humanities. This is owing to the fact that every discipline in knowledge discourse has a history – even abstract disciplines like mathematics or astronomy – and every piece of history has a geophysical contextuality.

Ever since Herodotus (484 BC - 425 BC, Greek-occupied Turkey) started the discipline, he recorded events during the reign of four Persian kings and chronicled life and society in their times. These were times of conflict between Greece and Persia and had a geographical contextuality.

Herodotus also speaks of “India”, where he saw the Himalayan marmot bathing in gold dust. Much later, deconstructing his text led to the conclusion that the great father of historical praxis must have passed through the North West Frontier province and reached the base of Hindu Kush.

This posed a question, which Herodotus did not ask himself: if he had indeed travelled to “India”, which “India” was this? For that matter, if he was “Greek”, which “Greece” did he live in? Similarly. if Ram of the epic poem Ramayana was an “Indian”, where was this “India” situated?

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The so-called Ram Setu
A ship that wishes to sail from the Arabian Sea to the Bay of Bengal has to pass through the Indian Ocean to the south of Sri Lanka. The voyage would have been 30 hours shorter if it could have travelled along the Gulf Of Mannar, which separates India and Sri Lanka, but this isn’t possible. For there are thousands of small submerged rocks beneath its surface, stretching like a bridge across 47 km between the two countries. As a result, the sea is between one and 30 metre deep here, which isn’t favourable for sailing.

The British government of colonised India as well the government of independent India had often planned to dredge the channel to make it suitable for sailing; but the plans have remained elusive for various reasons. At present, for instance, Hindutva followers believe that this is the bridge built by an army of monkeys, as described in the Ramayana, which Ram and Lakshaman crossed to conquer Sri Lanka.

Their demand is that, far from dredging, let the Archaeological Survey of India declare this bridge a national monument. Not that the colonisers were any less fundamentalist. In 1804 a certain British cartographer named the structure Adam’s Bridge – according to him this was the bridge described in the Bible which Adam crossed to scale a mountain peak, where he meditated for 1,000 years while standing on one leg.

Even before this, we have seen Marco Polo describe the structure as a bridge, as did Al-Biruni in the book he wrote in 1030 CE. In other words, it has long been held that this row of rocks beneath the surface of the water is a bridge.

Not exactly a bridge
According to geologists this structure is actually a limestone shoal, the outcome of natural processes. Between 300 and 30 million years ago, a portion of the Indian subcontinent is believed to have broken off because of continental drift to form the island of Sri Lanka. The debris that this fragment of land left behind at birth in the water as it drifted away led to the creation of this so-called bridge.

It may have jutted out of the water at some point in history, in which case it might have been used as a bridge. But there is considerable doubt whether the users belonged to the age of the Ramayana. This is because the inhabitants of Sri Lanka went directly from the Stone Age to the Iron Age; the use of copper was not very prevalent here. On the other hand, the Ramayana is a tale from an advanced Copper Age – an epic in verse from a period two or three thousand years before the Iron Age.

Where was Ramayana set?
Let us drop the preamble and get to the point now. If the Lanka mentioned in the Ramayana was not the Sri Lanka of today, where was it located? Where did Ram belong, for that matter? Wherever he may have lived, he was certainly not an inhabitant of what is the Ganges valley today, or of “Ramjanmabhoomi” Ayodhya. For, civilised man did not live in the forest-infested Ganges valley before the Iron Age, since there were no axes with which to clear the vegetation before iron was discovered. There were no swords either, which proves that the Ramayana, unlike the Mahabaharata, is not an epic of the Ganges valley. It makes no mention of swords – the bow and arrow are the primary weapons in it.

The primary objective of this essay is to point to the geographical location of the Ramayana. It is not the writer who has arrived at the answer, nor an Indologist like Max Mueller or even a historian or archaeologist. The person in question is Rajesh Kochhar, a physicist with an inclination for history, who has broken through the traditional techniques of history in his work The Vedic People – Their History and Geography.

How the Ramayana is different from the Mahabharata
The primary difficulty of discussing the ancient history of India lies in the necessity of first demolishing several well-established inaccuracies, such as the Aryan Invasion Theory, for instance. Spun by white men and broadcast by colonial historians, this old wives’ tale is still taught in schools and colleges, with half of any written work – measured in terms of paper, ink and effort - being expended on it. We shall not entertain it. We will only examine whatever can be determined through the social and geographical pointers available in the Ramayana.

There are two other fundamental differences between the Ramayana and the Mahabharata – in the rivers and in the divine pantheon. In the Mahabharata the Ganga and the Yamuna are almost ubiquitous, but they’re completely missing from the Ramayana. In the Mahabharata we see the powerful presence of the Hindu trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwar – but they’re absent from the Ramayana. We do not find these two rivers and these three gods together in the Rig Veda.

However, the rivers and gods that are to be found in the Rig Veda are also to be found in the Ramayana – the rivers Saraswati and Sarayu, and the original trinity of Agni, Varun and Pavan. From this it is easy to surmise that the Ramayana is a Rig Vedic epic. Which period was this? It would not be correct to estimate this using our current calendar: it would probably not be possible either. An approximation can be made from the sequence of events.

The somras clue
Vedic nomads travelled from the Eastern Europe to Bactria (present day Afghanistan). From here they went to Persia (today’s Iran). During their migration to Persia there was probably a battle for power amongst the gods, which led to the birth of the Avestan religion. As a result, Indra, the king of gods, became an inferior figure in the Avesta, while Yama, the god of death, turned into the finest of the gods. Worshipping Agni is a prominent practice within the Parsi community, but Hindus do not worship this ancient god. This indicates that the Rig Vedic age predated Persia. Kochhar has provided clues to whether this was the Afghan branch of the Vedic journey.

The first such clue that Kochhar alludes to is the Vedic drink somras. It was so important in ancient Vedic life that an entire mandala or chapter of the Rig Veda has been devoted to it. The importance of soma is evident in the Avestan Zend scripture – it is referred to as haoma in Persia. It is seen that the closer the Vedic nomads get to the Indian peninsula, the more they seek continuously new alternatives to the soma plant; that was how important somras was.

But the original soma plant was to be found only in what is modern day Afghanistan and Persia or Iran. In 1951 the German historian Karl Friedrich Geldner proved that the ephedra plant was what was described as soma in the Rig Veda. Ephedrin or somras is not alcohol – this intoxicant is an alkaloid. Kochhar’s investigations led to the discovery of four varieties of ephedra, found in Afghanistan, Iran, the northern Himalayas, and the Hindu Kush.

What we learn from summer solstice
There are 49 cosmic hymns in the Rig and the Yajur Vedas whose meanings have not been explained. But one particular hymn from Vedanga Jyotish informs us that the longest day of the year, or summer solstice, comprised 18 periods of daylight and 12 of night. Day and night are of equal length on the Equator; in the higher latitudes, summer days are longer than nights.

The latitude at which the proportion of daylight and darkness is 3:2 is 34 degrees North. It is worth noting that the cities to be found around this latitude today are Herat and Kabul in Afghanistan. In other words, the place and time of the composition of the Vedanga Jyotish is the same as that of Vedic Afghanistan and Iran. This second piece of evidence offered by Rajesh Kochhar further strengthens the perception of the location and time of the Rig Veda.

In search of the rivers
Kochhar has deconstructed the Rig Veda in search of the Saraswati and the Sarayu, the two rivers also mentioned in the Ramayana. Here too our current history has come in the way.

There is a tiny river named the Sarayu in Uttar Pradesh, which flows into the Ghaghara, which in turn merges with the Ganga. Many people consider the rainwater-fed Saraswati in the Aravallis, flowing along the Ghaggar (not to be confused with the Ghaghara) basin the mythical Saraswati. On viewing the scans of North-Western India made by the Russian Landsat satellite between 1972 and ’79, it is natural to assume that the Ghaggar was a wide river. It flows into the Rann of Kutch.

The scan reveals the basin of a dried up older river, which is up to 8 km broad in some places. It was this that led to the hasty conclusion of this basin’s belonging to the original Saraswati.

From Neil Roberts’s The Holocene it is clear that the basin of this river widened to the north of the Rann of Kutch because of the accelerated movement of a glacier during the previous Ice Age. But deconstructing the Rig Veda doesn’t suggest any of this. The Saraswati has been referred to as non-perennial towards the end of the Veda. The original stream of the Ghaggar enters India from present-day Pakistan, drying up in the Thar desert. Kochhar believes this is the non-perennial Saraswati.

However, the Saraswati of the Rig Veda is extremely powerful, grinding rocks with sheer force. Its roar subsumes all other sounds. And the Sarayu of the Rig Veda is immensely wide and deep, the mother river. None of these descriptions matches the actual rivers in present-day India with those names.

Hymn No. 5 | 53 | 9 of the Rig Veda says, “May the Rasa, Krumu, Anitabh, Kuva or Sindhu not be able to stop you; let the deep Sarayu not be an obstacle.” The order of the rivers clearly moves from east to west. So the Sarayu undoubtedly flows to the west of the Indus.

Kochhar believes it is the 650-km river known as the Hari-Rud in Afghanistan, whose source is in the Hindu Kush mountains. It flows past the city of Herat and then for 100 km along the Iran-Afghanistan border before disappearing in the Karakom desert of Central Asia.

In the Avesta we find the Saraswati as the Harahaiti – the similarity in sound is noticeable – which enters Iran along the combined basin of the river Arghandar on the Afghan-Iran border and the river Helmand. According to Kochhar, it is this Helmand that is the Vedic Saraswati river.

The source of the Helmand is in the Koh-i-Baba mountain range. Flowing for 1,300 miles through the heart of Afghanistan, the Vedic Saraswati joins the Vedic Drijadbati or Arghandar. The Avesta identifies this wide river as the Hetumanta (or, in varations, as Setumanta). In Iran the Saraswati is named the Harahaiti, which flows into the inland lake Hamun-e-Sabari in the Saistan area of northern Iran.

The conclusion
The political map of the ancient world, of the Copper Age, provides an extraordinary realisation. The kingdoms of the two main political powers – the Persians and the Greeks – all lie between and around the Red Sea and the Mediterranean Sea. None of these is a coastal civilisation, however.

This raises a question. What did ancient man refer to as a sea? The Mediterranean Sea, the Red Sea, and the Campian Sea are all saltwater lakes, and not seas in the way we understand them today. This make us wonder: perhaps the Lanka of the Ramayana was an island in the Hamun-e-Sabri.

The one thing that’s obvious: wherever it was that Ram and Lakshman went from Afghanistan, it could not have been to present-day Sri Lanka, for that would have meant crossing the Indian peninsula. And since Ravana, the lord of Lanka, was also partial to somras, it is unlikely that he went very far from the land of soma after abducting Sita.

Although it is not possible to prove archaeologically, there is considerable reason to assume that the lineage of Dasarath (and of Ram), the Ikshvakus, were from western Afghanistan. For the Puranas say that King Kubalasa slayed a demon on the shore of the Sabari. Vishwamitra received his second birth where the Saraswati met the sea. And Valmiki discovered Sita on the shore of the Sarayu. This is why there is little room for doubt that today’s Hamun-e-Sabri is the sea mentioned in the Ramayana, one of the islands in which was the kingdom ruled by Ravana, lord of the rakshases.

The focus of attention for those studying the lost history of India is the contentious issue raised by Hindutva historians, who have repeatedly asserted that western historians have been unable to identify the roots of ancient India. We find these assertions in the writings of Bal Gangadhar Tilak, as well as in those of certain lesser-known right-wing historians. It is surprising how easily conclusions unsupported by the array of Vedic texts can be arrived at because of mindless adherence to a popular brand of politics.

The rock formation between India and Sri Lanka could well be preserved, but not as Ram Setu or Adam’s Bridge. Let it be protected as a geological feature. For no matter how far one looks, no relationship is evident between this Lanka and the Lanka of the Ramayana.

(Source: Scroll)

Satyabhama: The fiery woman who killed Narakasura

Five days of Diwali and each has a different story behind it. One Diwali story of this particular day – Narakchaturdashi is interesting essentially because it celebrates an unusual aspect in love and relationship: that of gender equality in marriage.  Though Narakchaturdashi, which falls on the second day, is often observed as the commemoration of the death and destruction of the tyrant Narkasura, what most often do not know is that it was a woman who killed him: Satyabhama, the fiery wife of Krishna, her partner in peril who helped her case and cause.

What lies behind this simple story of victory of good over evil is the subtle subtext: illuminating the importance of cooperation and collaboration for perfect partnership in a relationship. The story goes that it was Satyabhama who with her husband, Krishna, killed the demon king Narkasura with whom this day is associated with. He was the demon son of Vishnu’s boar avatar Varaha and the earth-goddess Bhudevi.  As the unrivalled emperor of Pragjyotishpur, Narakrasura brought all the kingdoms on earth under his sway, capturing 16,000 princesses of defeated kingdoms, and imprisoning them at Audaka atop the mountain Maniparvata, guarded by Mura, the five-headed demon and his ten sons.

What lies behind this simple story of victory of good over evil is the subtle subtext: illuminating the importance of cooperation and collaboration for perfect partnership in a relationship.

Spurred by his success and ambition, he turned towards Amravati and Swargalok and defeated the mighty Indra, forcing him to flee the heavens. To add insult to injury, Narakasura stole the precious earrings of the heavenly Aditi, mother of Indra and the devas. An enraged Aditi, who was a relative of Satyabhama, approached Krishna’s wife for help. An indignant Satyabhama readily agreed and sought her husband as an ally. Krishna who was aware that Narakasura as per the boon by Brahma, could only be killed by his ‘mother’ Bhumidevi, and that his wife was an avatar of Bhudevi, decides to help Satyabhama as her charioteer in her battle against Narakasura. As promised to the Devas and Aditi, Krishna attacked the impregnable fortress at Pragjyotisha, riding his mount Garuda with wife Satyabhama.

Krishna who was aware that Narakasura as per the boon by Brahma, could only be killed by his ‘mother’ Bhumidevi, and that  his wife was an avatar of Bhudevi, decides to help Satyabhama as her charioteer in her battle against Narakasura.

A great war was fought where Narakasura attacked Krishna and rendered him unconscious. A livid Satyabhama retaliates and with all her fury, attacks and kills Narakasura. As an incarnation of Bhudevi and thus, Narakasura’s mother, she was able to rid the earth of his terrors, while honouring Brahma’s boon. As he lay dying, Narakasura begged his mother for a blessing: that the world remember him with joy, not hate. His mother, Bhudevi as Satyabhama agrees and announces that this day of his death be celebrated, never mourned, as a day of joy and celebration:  Satyabhama not just wins the war, but kills Narakasura, but not before recovering the precious earrings and freeing the 16,000 girls who later married Krishna in a gesture of retrieving lost honour and conquered territories.

Satyabhama not just wins the war, but kills Narakasura, but not before recovering the precious earrings and freeing the 16,000 girls who later married Krishna in a gesture of retrieving lost honour and conquered territories.

As a mark of victory, Krishna is said to have streaked his forehead with Narkasura’s blood and when he returned home, his wives washed the blood off him, and anointed him with perfumed oils and an elaborate bath: an early morning ritual still followed by many to wake up at dawn on Narak Chaturdashi and have an uttan perfumed oil-bath before sunrise. Some apply kumkum on their foreheads before the bath, akin to the smearing of the blood of Narakasur by Lord Krishna.

What this day celebrates is equality in marriage, the day when a man and woman come together to fight a battle and win a war.

But what this day celebrates is equality in marriage, the day when a man and woman come together to fight a battle and win a war. It is support which is celebrated, not subservience, the day commemorating love and trust in each other with the promise to assist one another. What is significant here is the acknowledgement of our partners as equals, not subordinates and the story is told through the rightful character of the vivid Satyabhama. She, as an incarnation of the earth goddess, like Bhudevi is naturally earthy, of the primeval, fierce woman archetype, who never submits to authority. As his wife, Satyabahama demands to be an equal, accompanying Krishna even on the battlefield. Krishna respects her demands as a wife and as a trained, capable warrior who is to play a part in the drama of destiny to unfold.

This story of Satyabhama also leads to the story of Vishnu having two wives – Sridevi (Lakshmi) and Bhudevi which stems from the legend of the Varaha avatar of Vishnu who in the form of a boar rescued Bhudevi, the earth goddess from under the primordial seas, where the demon, Hiranyaksha had captured her. As Bhudevi takes her rescuer, Vishnu as her husband, she has a chance to return the favour in her avatar as Satyabhama, Krishna’s co-wife and co-warrior. Love also means fighting battles and winning wars – together.

(Source: She the People TV)

This Indian epic unites seven different Southeast Asian countries. Sort of.

Considered one of the world's most important literary works, the Ramayana has captured the imagination of many who read or listen to the Indian epic.

The poem, believed to have been written by Valmiki in the 5th century BCE is one of India's two great literary works after the Mahabharata.

With all of its 24,000 verses composed in Sanskrit, the story of Rama and Sita has been told and retold for countless generations in the Southeast Asian region.

More than just a love story.

Rama on horseback. Painting by BK Mitra.

The Ramayana tells the story of Prince Rama who goes in exile into the forest for 14 years upon the orders of his father together with his wife, Sita, and brother, Lakshamana.

Unfortunately, tragedy strikes when Sita gets kidnapped by the evil demon king, Ravana. Rama begins his quest to rescue his wife through the help of the Vanaras, a clan of monkeys.

While the Ramayana has been popularized as a love story, the saga of Rama deals with many themes that we often encounter in life. Because of this, the story has been told in various forms.

From comics, to films, animated features, television series, painting, dance, theater and exhibitions, the Ramayana is now a part of a larger narrative of the world.

Courtesy of Hindu influence over the Southeast Asian region, each country, save for Vietnam, have their own unique versions of the legend.

Reamker - Cambodia.

The Ramayana is believed to have arrived at Cambodia sometime during the 7th century in the form of a poem. This is according to the Veal Kantel inscriptions.

Titled Reamker, which means "Glory to Rama" in the Cambodian language, famous scenes of the epic can be seen on the walls of the Royal Palace and Angkor Wat. The Reamker gives more emphasis to Hanuman, one of Rama's staunches allies through additional scenes.

Cambodians fused Hindu ideas and Buddhism themes together to perform the poem through their dance theatre, L'khaon. The dance is part of the royal ballet's reportoire and is commonly performed during festive seasons in Cambodia.

Kakawin Ramayana - Indonesia.

In the Javanese version of the legend titled Kakawin Ramayana, the second half of the Ramayana diverges from its original Sanskrit version. The modifications include the indigenous Javanase deity, Semar, and his three sons, Gareng, Petruk, and Bagong.

Apparently the Indonesian version was based on the Ravanavadha, a sixth century retelling of the Ramayana by Indian poet Bhattikavya. Written in 870 CE, the focus is more on the antagonist, Ravana.

Indonesians perform the saga through two dance forms: The Balinese kecak dance, Ramakavaca, and Yogyakarta's Wayang Wong Javanese dance.

With Indonesia too, heavily influenced by India, the characters from the Ramayana can be seen in the 9th century Prambanan temple in Yogyakarta.

Phra Lak Phra Lam - Laos.

Interestingly, the Laos version of the story, Phra Lak Phra Lam, focuses more on the heroism of Rama's brother, Lakshamana.

Since Laos has its roots in Buddhism, Rama is believed to be the previous reincarnation of the Buddha, according to the locals.

Considered a national epic, the Ramayana arrived in the Southeast Asian much later than Cambodia and Thailand. By the time it arrived, the legend had lost much of its Hindu influence and became a much more localized.

The title of the retelling is named after the two brothers, Lakshamana (Phra Lak) and Rama (Phra Lam).

Hikayat Seri Rama - Malaysia.

The Malaysian retelling of the epic, Hikayat Seri Rama (Chronicle of the Great Rama), is a little more special because it incorporates shadow puppetry.

This Malay adaptation of the Hindu retelling maintains its originality but with slight modifications to certain scenes where the minor characters are upgraded to become major players.

For example, Lakshamana plays a much more important role than the legend's protagonist, Rama, which the story is based on. In the Malaysian adaptation, Rama, though virtuous, is often seen as weak while his brother courageous and much more focused.

The tale of Rama and Sita is also told through the traditional dance-drama Mak Yung.

Yama Zatdaw - Myanmar.

Yama Zatdaw or Yamayana is heavily influenced by Thailand's version of the Ramayana due to the invasion of Burma by the Siamese kings of the Konbaung Dynasty during the 15th century.

Just like Laos, the Yama Zatdaw borrows elements from the Theravada Buddhist culture as well. The story, Rama sā-khyan, was believed to have been told orally during King Anawratha's reign before it was composed by U Aung Phyo in 1775.

Meanwhile, Loik Samoing Ram is the Mon version of the epic which incorporates elements found in Thailand, Java, and Malaysia but with its own unique episodes. It was written by a Buddhist monk named Uttama in 1834.

Maharadia Lawana - The Philippines.

According to indologist Juan R. Francisco, the Ramayana arrived at Filipino shores sometime between the 17th to 19th century thanks to Javanese and Malayan traders who themselves were influenced by India.
The Maharadia Lawana, written as an epic poem by the Maranao people, became indigenized and has contrasting differences from the original Sanskrit version. Character names and locations were changed to perhaps suit the cultural perspectives and orientations of the locals.

Ramakien - Thailand.

Just like Laos, Thailand's version of the legend, Ramakien, is considered a national epic.

However, unlike the original Sanskrit version, Sita is the daughter of the antagonist Thotsakan (Ravana). Phiphek, the astrologer brother of Thotsakan predicts that Ravana would die because of Sita. Furious, he throws his daughter into a river and she is rescued by Chanok.

The earliest records of the poem dates back to the 13th century, during the reign of the Sukhothai kingdom. By the 18th century, during the Ayutthaya kingdom, the Ramakien was written. Sadly when the Burmese invaded, much of the editions were lost.

Under the supervision of King Rama I of the Chakri dynasty which still maintains the royal throne today, the story was reconstructed. King Rama II further adapted the retelling for the khon drama. This version has an added role for Hanuman who is often portrayed lasciviously.

Today, the Ramakien forms an integral part of Thai culture and is taught in schools nationwide.

Uniting cultures.

A painting at the Wat Phra Kaew depicting the battle between Rama and Ravana. IMAGE: Aiden McRae Thomson

In India alone, the birthplace of the Ramayana, there are various versions of the epic told and retold.

Yet, it amazes me how the legend travelled throughout the ages to seven different countries, with each nation making it their own.

Would the tale of Rama and Sita continue to capture people's imaginations and thrive? It will for generations to come so long as the beautiful arts and cultural works above are preserved.

Cover image sourced from YouTube and Daily Travel Photo.

(Source: Mashable)

Sri Lanka’s first ever satellite is named after the ultimate villain of Hindu mythology

In the Indian subcontinent, issues and events often have a mythological subtext or context, be it in politics, science, or other fields. References to tales, characters, and messages from ancient texts and scriptures can be found sprinkled beyond the modern-day international borders of the region.

Even then, Sri Lanka’s first ever satellite, launched on June 17, stands out. The predominantly Buddhist island nation, named the 1.05 kilogram payload Ravana-1, after the biggest villain in Hindu mythology.

In the ancient Indian epic Ramayana, Ravana is the mighty king of Lanka and the leader of the Rakshasa clan. While some dispute the assumption that the Lanka mentioned in the poem is the same as today’s Sri Lanka, it has underpinned social, historical, and political views over millennia.

Ravana, according to Ramayana’s basic plot, abducts Sita, the wife of prince Rama of Ayodhya. It climaxes in a bloody battle in which the king of Lanka and most of his family are killed and Sita rescued by Rama with the help of an army of monkeys.

In short, the ferocious Ravana is seen as the symbol of evil by many Hindus, while Rama epitomises kindness, justice, and dutifulness. Dussehra, one of Hinduism’s biggest festivals, is celebrated to mark Rama’s defeat of Ravana. In many place in northern India, festivities involve the setting ablaze of giant Ravana effigies, sometimes even in the presence of the prime minister.

“Ram rajya,” or the reign of king Rama, is even held forth by modern Indian political forces as the ideal state to aspire to. Ayodhya, a small town in the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, has for the past many decades been the epicentre of the Hindu nationalist movement.


However, Ravana himself is not reviled across the board. To begin with, there are multiple versions of the Ramayana—around 300 by one account (pdf)—all of which describe the primary antagonist in various shades of grey. Often the ten-headed king is deemed erudite, just, an able administrator, and an excellent musician—an ancient string-instrument, the Ravana Hattha, is considered his invention. He is also portrayed as an ardent devotee of the Hindu god Siva.

During Dussehra, minor pockets of India even mourn for their king. Though rare, Ravana is also a preferred name for sons among sections of Indians.

Not surprisingly, this paradox also informs regional politics in the country. The late Periyar EV Ramaswamy Naicker, fountainhead of the Dravidian movement of southern India, identified Ravana as a monarch of the ancient Dravidians who mostly inhabit southern India today.

“Although EVR (Naicker) neglects to provide specific textual references, he begins his praise of Ravana by listing the virtues that Valmiki attributes to Ravana: Ravana has mastered the Vedas and sastras, he protects his family and kin, he acts courageously, he practices bhakti, he is the beloved son of a god, and he has received several boons,” Paula Richman writes in the book Many Ramayanas: The Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia. Valmiki is the poet who wrote one of the earliest versions of the Ramayana.

In many ways, this difference in perception of Ramayana and Ravana extends to Sri Lanka. While the island nation is developing its own “Ramayana trail” to woo tourists from India, Ravana himself is a hero for Sri Lankans, especially among its minority Hindus.

All this adds intrigue to the naming of the country’s first satellite.

“Are we seeing a soft power project or subtle weaponisation of myth and religion in the context of a concerted extension of a Rāvana Trail and narrative in post-war Sri Lanka where Rāvana and large Hanuman (Ramayana’s popular monkey god) statues, which are often out of sync with the softer, gentler and smaller local aesthetics and religious sensibilities are popping up in the post-war northeast of Sri Lanka, as India extends her soft power globally and locally, while grandiose Buddhist statues are also popping up?” a columnist asked in the Colombo Telegraph a few months ago.

(Source: Quartz)