Myths signal humanity’s insatiable desire for meaning-making. From the infancy of human civilisations to our individual childhoods, mythical stories have been a means of explanation and exploration of the world, the universe and our place in it. Lopamudra Maitra’s retelling of 108 different myths from across India is, therefore, aptly titled How the World Was Born. The pages of this book vividly capture how the celestial bodies that freckle the night sky, the rains brought by monsoon winds, or even the origins of certain civilisations have been made sense of through myths, folktales, and legends.
Maitra succeeds in accumulating and compiling stories that simmer in the hearths of grandmothers’ kitchens, as well as legends that govern the fates of entire communities, into a mosaic that can confidently be called “pan-Indian”. The book is categorised into six distinct geographic zones: Northern, Northeastern, Eastern, Western, Central, and Southern regions. Additionally, an entire section is dedicated to myths about water bodies, reflecting their abundance and centrality in an agrarian and tropical country like India. However, perhaps what sets this collection apart is that it aims not just to represent or entertain, but also to be a means for studying and analysing culture. Maitra, a scholar with an interest in history and ethnography, provides a comprehensive introductory chapter outlining her vision for understanding myths. She guides the reader on how to utilise a community’s storytelling traditions and its perception of the universe to gain insights into the community itself.
Understanding culture through mythology
In the introduction, Maitra deconstructs the myriad ways in which mythic storytelling has been an essential part of human civilisation. Like all stories, myths primarily amuse us. You might reach for Maitra’s collection of 108 Indian myths in search of fantastical places and bygone eras preserved through storytelling. However, you might be disappointed if what you are seeking is a flavour of the childhood romance associated with mythological collections. Though the plot of the individual myths may deliver amusement, Maitra’s simplistic and straight narrative style seeks to retain the ethos of the story rather than modify it with modern stylistic elements. The writing and the choice of stories urge the reader to search for deeper insights.
For instance, in the myth of “How Goddess Lakshmi Stayed Back in Hyderabad” a fantastical element of divinity is introduced into a real-life historical setting. The reader is transported to the genesis of the city of Hyderabad during the reign of the Sultanate of Golconda. The story narrates how the Hindu Goddess Lakshmi supposedly descended to the city of Hyderabad to bless the Muslim ruler Muhammad Quli Qutub Shah. Due to an act of kindness that she extends to a city guard, she never leaves the city, thereby bringing prosperity for centuries. This relatively unknown story offers a kind of religious crossover that is almost entirely absent in modern India, yet its existence points to a peaceful and symbiotic communal history.
Several stories in the collection blur the line between history and myth. Modern-day historicisation insists on some level of fact and evidence. But Maitra provides historical accounts written at a time wherein supernatural and exaggerated incidents were woven into history. Chapters like the one mentioned above as well as others like “The Arrival of the Parsis to the Subcontinent”, “Cochin Jews and Legend of Their Arrival in India” and “The Earliest Settlements of Lakshadweep”, provide a mythic flavour to possible historical narratives. As readers, our focus shifts to why a historical narrative is constructed the way it is, rather than fixating on the historical account itself. We see religious faith, anxieties, desires, values and power dynamics play out in the varied accounts of an event that Maitra so carefully collects and represents.
The same motivations and drives can be traced in myths with a moral lesson embedded into their storyline. “How Hariti Became a Protector of Children and Also a Part of Sculpture” is a chapter that narrates the tale of Hariti, a cannibal who kidnaps and devours children. Hariti terrorises the people of Rajagriha until the Buddha intervenes and hides one of Hariti’s children. Ultimately Buddha’s lesson moves Hariti so drastically that she vows to become a protector of children. The lesson in the story is quite evident – no one is incapable of changing for the better, they just need a chance to turn over a new leaf.
In contrast, another story featuring the Buddha, titled “To Stand United Like Trees in a Forest,” takes a different approach to its messaging. The newly crowned king of Varanasi instructs the tree fairies in the nearby forests to choose a specific tree as their abode. The wise fairies stick together in the thick of the sal forest, while the more frivolous fairies set out exploring. When a storm strikes, the wise fairies are protected because they stick together, while those residing in smaller, solitary trees lose their homes. Although the moral of the story – in unity there is strength – is clear, it serves more as a cautionary tale. The story of Hariti offers hope, while the story of the tree fairies uses fear as a driving force.
Myths also reveal what stirred the curiosity of particular societies as they sought explanations for the world around them through stories. The Bugun tribe of Arunachal Pradesh, for instance, blame the great serpent named Ettong for eclipses. According to their belief, the envious snake attempts to kill the Sun and the Moon, the queen and king of the sky respectively, by trying to swallow them whole. The people then band together and scare the serpent into releasing the heavenly bodies by shouting, “Let it go!” Meanwhile, for tribes of the Andaman Islands, myths serve to explain the storms and cyclones they often endure. In a chapter titled “Creation Myths of Birds, Beasts, and Fishes of the Andaman,” Maitra provides different accounts of myths explaining the natural landscape of the Andamans as told by various tribes. What is particularly interesting is that the sea, sea creatures, and tropical storms are pervasive elements across these myths.
Myth and the universality of the human experience
Lopamudra Maitra offers her readers an armchair tour of India, meticulously curating the experience while ensuring that even the most remote and nearly extinct cultures are not overlooked. However, like all travellers, the responsibility lies in the hands of the reader to make the most of the journey.
To the discerning reader, this collection offers a glimpse into understanding the people of a time and culture far removed from their own. In successfully locating what stirred the souls of the people within these pages, the first apparent realisation may be how different the modern world you inhabit is. Yet, as you delve deeper, you realise that although our explanations for phenomena like eclipses and storms have advanced, our need for explanations remains. What inspired most myths was the unsettling, unquenchable need for answers in a universe too vast, too old, and too dynamic to fathom. We attempt to make it all palatable with clear narratives that we firmly hold onto with total belief, just as our pre-modern ancestors once did. In the end, this collection is a story about the innate human passions that beat the drum of all our hearts.
How the World Was Born: Wondrous Indian Myths and Legends, Lopamudra Maitra, Aleph Book Company.
