Men,Masculinism and Masculinities: Ancient Indian Antecedents

I

In the context of ancient India, we cannot use the term ‘hegemonic masculinity’ in a simplistic way. Since there was no single normative or honoured way of being a man against which others could be judged. A Kṣatrīya’s masculinity was not similar to that of a Brāhmaṇa, and a Śūdra was not even a ‘man’ vis-à-vis the triad of the upper varṇa. Furthermore, apart from the Brahmanical, ancient India also had the Pāli and Prākṛta textual traditions where khattiya and not Brāhmaṇa/Bamhana were placed at the top of the social pecking order. Evidently, then, the Kṣatrīya/khattiya masculinity was a more paradigmatic masculinity. We would, therefore, begin by analysing the masculinity of the warrior ruling class.

The early Āryans were tribal people, and the rājā of Ṛgveda was only a primus inter pares. However, once the state came into existence, the power of the Kṣatrīya king at the head of that state was institutionalized. The conceptualization of this authority was done in masculinist terms. Thus, Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa ⁵ categorized the royal power as penis (paso), while people were compared to cleft/vulva (gabhe). The text tells us that royal power presses hard on the people (gabho rāṣṭram paso). The hierarchy of the relationship in which the ruled were simultaneously feminized and emasculated while the authority was conceived as hyper-masculine subject was underlined. Furthermore, it was the duty of a Kṣatrīya as a ruler to use force (daṇḍa) ⁶ to punish all. ⁷ The description of the use of ‘daṇḍa’ also had a strong phallic imagery. Manu tells us that king’s rod/force should be forever ready/erect (nityamudyatadaṇḍaḥ), his manliness constantly displayed (vivṛtapauruṣaḥ). ⁸ Valour was a particularly distinguishing masculine quality of a Kṣatrīya ⁹ without which he was seen as lacking in manhood (nirvīrya); it also implied being steadfast in battle (na bhītasya palāyanam). ¹⁰ Equally condemnatory for a Kṣatrīya was to transgress the accepted code while fighting, which was seen as an extremely dishonourable act. In the battle of Kurukṣetra, when a group of Kaurava generals got together (bahunāmsamavetānām) to kill a youth (bāle putre prahartām), Abhimanyu, it was seen as an exceptionally dastardly act (ghṛṇātmanām). ¹¹ Bhīma’s killing of Duryodhana in a duel against the rules is condemned by Balarāma. ¹² Duryodhana lists a series of transgression of the honoured code of fighting by Pānḍavas under Kṛṣṇa’s diabolical guidance. ¹³ Vālin in Rāmāyaṇa ¹⁴ criticizes Rāma for killing him by stealth. He wonders how can he be a progeny of Daśaratha when he is so treacherous, dishonest and mean (kṣudro). Sītā too cautions Rāma that if he kills those who have not harmed him he will not be seen as a desirable ‘masculine hero’ (aparādham vinā hantum lokānvīra na kāmaye). ¹⁵ Evidently, then, while brute physical courage was important, it needed to be tempered with justice for the king to be seen as a ‘dharmasyagopa’. The Arthaśāstra, ¹⁶ valourizing the notion of justice (nyāya) over sheer strength (bala), states that a just king gets his subject’s loyalty even if vulnerable (durbala) while an unjust king though strong (balavant) faces hostility (amitram).

Conventionally Kṣatrīya’s valour was conceived in belligerently violent terms to signify his hypermasculinity which allowed him to establish his hegemony over others by robbing the opponents of their manhood and not just their domain as Indra does to Dasyus. ¹⁷ Kṣatrīya’s vanquishing violence could also be sexually predatory in nature. Whitaker ¹⁸ points out that Indra’s aggression against Uṣas is praised by poets as a virile (vīrya) and masculine (pauṃsya) act. Indra smote Uṣas; crushed completely, she ran away in fear into the far distance. ¹⁹ Smug in his hegemonic masculinity, Indra was also dismissive of the notion of valour residing in women. He boasts that since Dāsas have taken women for their weapons, this abalā (literally without strength but the word also came to mean women in general) armies cannot harm me. ²⁰ In the later period of territorial states, earth as the domain of the king was conceived in feminine terms which he, as mahīpati, enjoyed (bhoga). ²¹ The gendered imagery of masculine royal dominance is quite starkly brought out in verses where through clever use of pun (śleṣa), the territorial conquest reads like the conquest of women. ²² A poet resorts to a metaphor of sexual assault to describe the terrifying experience of exiled enemy’s women, in the wilderness,

They catch his women’s skirts, embrace them tight, seize them by hair, wound their lips, scratch their breasts until they bleed and this before the king of Kalinga’s face; for now, in his defeat the thorny forest bushes play all the tricks of lecher with his wives. ²³

Generosity was a particularly desirable manly quality in the king. Indra, the king of Gods, is frequently and profusely praised for being munificent (maghavā). ²⁴ Later Sanskrit poets often equated kings with a wish-fulfilling tree (kalpadruma). ²⁵ A generous king was also praised for giving protection/refuge as ‘śaraṇāgatvatsala’ even as he loved making wars. ²⁶ A poet employing the device of pun ²⁷ states ‘There is no surprise in that your majesty made other kings pay tribute (kara)? For you too were made to keep your hand (kara)on their back’ (as an assurance of refuge). ²⁸

Another peculiar feature of Kṣatrīya masculinity was that instead of being seen as an inherent natural quality, this manhood was in constant need of validation and reiteration. In the Ṛgveda, the ritualized praise of Indra’s manhood allowed him to grow in stature and might. Ingalls ²⁹ perceptively noted that the impersonal nature of this religious ritual praise lacked the shamefulness of personal flattery. However, by later period, poets unashamedly resorted to hyperbole (atiśayokti alaṃkāra) to praise their patron’s legendary tales of manhood (pauruṣakathāḥ), which could be heard everywhere. ³⁰ A mere twang of the king’s bow and the raising of his arms were enough to make all the Gods in heaven drop their weapons. ³¹

Even though valorous conduct was the most overwhelming component of Kṣatrīya’s persona, refined sensibility with the capacity to appreciate kalā and kāvya was also praised. Kalhaṇa equates a boorish king with blind oxen, who knows nothing save eating. ³² In his Prayāgapraśasti, Samudragupta proclaims his victory in all quarters, but he also depicts himself playing vīṇā on his gold coin.

In the early Āryan set-up, the fission between Brahma (Mitra) and Kṣātra (Varuṇa) was not too great as the evidence of Ṛgveda ³³ suggests. Mitra and Varuṇa together, and not singly nor hierarchically, are invoked in over two dozen hymns. In these verses, they are portrayed as sovereigns who uphold heaven and earth. They sit on the throne receiving homage. They also perform the important task of ushering in the rain and supporting the truth (Ṛta). However, as the state became more entrenched, the exigencies of power sharing between the two brought them into conflict. It is in this context that Brāhmaṇa’s masculinity can be understood as an oppositional masculinity to that of the Kṣatrīya’s. A pertinent example is the notion of anger. Both Kṣatrīya and Brāhmaṇa anger is referred to in our sources but is conceived very differently. King’s anger (rājaroṣa) is a common trope in the description of kings in Sanskrit literature and defines their hypermasculinity. ³⁴ Bhartṛhari states ‘no man is favourite of a king inclined to passionate rage (canḍakopānām) a fire when touched burns even the priest who pours oblation’. ³⁵ Brāhmaṇa’s anger was embodied in his ability to curse which no king was accorded. But in practice was it a weapon that could subdue a king? Kalhaṇa ³⁶ tells us that Jayapīḍa of Kashmir appropriated some agrahāra grants. When its brāhmaṇa beneficiaries threatened him with a curse, Jayapīḍa, completely unfazed, simply raised his eyebrows (bhṛkuṭi) and mocked at them. He called them scoundrels (śaṭha) and pulled them up for their impudence in believing that though they subsisted on alms grain (bhikṣākaṇa) they could speak the language of sages (ṛṣi) to proclaim their spiritual power. Kalhaṇa states that, terrified by the dreaded knitting of king’s brows, many Brāhmaṇas fell silent. ³⁷ Evidently, any concentration of wealth (which grants would represent) that was not subordinated to the king had the potential to transform into a rival centre of power which the king would try to liquidate. It is, therefore, not surprising that Kalhaṇa, who was recounting the political developments as they took place in early Medieval Kashmir, cites the example of a king’s clash with such a locus of Brahmanical power.

Bearing weapons and fighting were also not sanctioned roles for Brāhmaṇas, although they did sometimes train their students in fighting skills as Kuru princes were by Droṇa and Kṛpācārya. Rāmāyaṇa narrates the tale of an epic conflict between Brāhmaṇa Vasiṣṭha and Kṣatrīya Viśvāmitra. The latter’s marauding attacks on Vasiṣṭha’s hermitage were not met with any violent rebuttal on his part, which underlines the stark difference in the conceptualization of power between the two varṇas. ³⁸ It is only later in the face of continued attacks by Viśvāmitra, who had meanwhile acquired a dangerous missile (brahmāstra), that Vasiṣṭha faced him with his staff (brahmadaṇḍa). ³⁹ He, then, challenged Viśvāmitra’s ‘kṣatrīyabalam’ with his ‘brahmabalam’ even valourizing it over the former (brahmabalam mahat). ⁴⁰ A worsted Viśvāmitra, then, decided to acquire a Brāhmaṇa status for himself by means of rigorous penance (tapo mahat brāhmṇatvakāraka). ⁴¹ It was severe tapas which was seen as the raison d’être of Brāhmaṇa’s masculinity and not the use of weaponry which distinguished Kṣatrīya’s power. Interestingly, when a Brāhmaṇa Aśvatthāmā used a dreaded missile against a foetus in the womb, he was castigated ⁴² for committing an extremely sinful (pāpiṣṭharam) act and was cursed for it. ⁴³ But even if non-militarized Brāhmaṇa is ubiquitous in the texts, was this also a historical reality? Ancient India did have some ruling dynasties which claimed Brahmanical origins. Śunga and Sātavāhana are well-known examples as are the Kadambas of Karnataka. In their role as kings, they not only fought in battles but also performed other functions befitting their royal status. But did these ‘Brāhmaṇa kings justify their royal masculinity and duties specifically in the context of their Brāhmaṇa lineage? Puṣyamitra Śunga performed the Aśvamedha sacrifice, ⁴⁴ which Kṣatrīya kings had frequently done from the later Vedic age onwards. In the Nasik inscription, ⁴⁵ the Sātavāhana ruler Gautamīputra was described as a unique Brāhmaṇa (ekabamhaṇasa), yet he is said to equal in prowess Rāma, Keśava, Arjuna and Bhīmsena, all of whom are Kṣatrīyas and none is a Brāhmaṇa. Furthermore, while he is also said to have crushed the pride and conceit of the Kṣatrīyas (khatiyadapamānamadanasa), this is followed immediately by the statement that he destroyed Śakas, Yavanas and Pahalavas, none of them would qualify as Indic Kṣatrīyas. Nor were Brāhmaṇas the only recipients of Sātavāhana family patronage as the Nasik inscription makes clear that the bhikkus of saṃgha were also given gifts. In the Gudnāpur inscription, Brāhmaṇa lineage (dvijottamaḥ kulam) of the founder of the Kadamba dynasty Mayūrśarman is referred to. His father Bandhuṣeṇa is said to have taken to watering the creeper of kṣatrīya mode of life (kṣātra vṛtti). While Mayūrśarman is said to be well versed in Vedas (vedavedāñgavidyāviśāradaḥ), at the same time inscription also emphasizes that valour alone was his sentiment (vikramaikarasaḥ). ⁴⁶

Throughout the Indic tradition, Brāhmaṇas were not vested with the duty to use ‘daṇḍa’ to punish any transgression of dharma. Their duty was merely to exhort the Kṣatrīya king to uphold dharma. The only celebrated exception to this is brāhmaṇa Paraśurāma (identified by the axe which he carries), ⁴⁷ who takes it upon himself to punish Kṣatrīya kings. Yet Rāmāyaṇa ⁴⁸ also tells us how Kṣatrīya Rāma, through the act of stringing the bow of Paraśurāma, was able to claim/neutralize his power, thus emasculating him (nirvīryorjāmdgnyo). In the other epic, Mahābhārata, ⁴⁹ Paraśurāma engages in a battle with Kṣatrīya Bhīṣma, who is clear that since a Brāhmaṇa has picked a weapon to fight, he has acquired the status of a Kṣatrīya and therefore he will attack ‘kṣatrīya-hood’ of Paraśurāma. In this long-drawn battle, Bhīṣma secures a moral victory when Paraśurāma accepts that he has been foolish and Bhīṣma has won. ⁵⁰

An interesting trajectory in this Brāhmaṇa–Kṣatrīya equation is furnished by the last incarnation of Viṣṇu Kalkin. As we have already noted, Brāhmaṇa do not resort to force to punish transgression of dharma but exhort the Kṣatrīya to perform this duty. However, in the case of Kalkin, the Puranic ⁵¹ authors take the Brāhmaṇa born Kalkin and attribute Kṣatrīya persona to him. We are told that Kalkin would be seated on a horse and traverse the whole earth with a naked sword in his hand and destroy the wickedness prevailing in the Kaliyuga. Perhaps for the Puranic authority, the inversion of societal norms and therefore of dharma was so acute in the Kaliyuga that they were impelled to conceive of an incarnation which would combine the purity of Brāhmaṇa birth and valour of Kṣatrīya to re-establish order on earth.

Generosity too was not a Brahmanical masculine virtue, rather it was their expectation. Brāhmaṇas were merely required to be generous with praise for their bountiful patrons as is evident from dānastuti hymns of the Ṛgveda. ⁵² However, it would be wrong to think that the power of patronage bestowed hegemonic status on the Kṣatrīyas. Praising seers of the Ṛgveda ⁵³ and even later poets thought that in this transaction they too were givers; for they conferred immortal fame on their patrons which was longer lasting than even the sound of their kettle-drum (bherīrvaiḥ). ⁵⁴

For the Vaiśya commoner, his masculine strength lay in being enterprising as a producer and provider of resources. Aitareya Brāhmaṇa ⁵⁵ describes Vaiśya as a tributary to another (anyasya balikṛt) to be lived on by another (anyasyādyaḥ). Vaiśya’s masculinity can only be interpreted as a complicit masculinity in that he did not enact the role of either of the two hegemons but deferred to them by giving gifts and tributes receiving their blessings and protection in return.

Śūdra’s masculinity was the subordinated masculinity par excellence. His servile role was asserted in the Vedic age itself when Aitareya Brāhmaṇa ⁵⁶ describes him as the servant of another (anyasya preṣyaḥ) who can be slain at pleasure (yathākāma vadhyaḥ). Manu explicitly states that the only (ekameva) role for Śūdra is to provide ungrudging service (śūṣruṣāmanasūyayā). ⁵⁷

Not only were the Vaiśya complicit with and Śūdra subordinated to, the dyad of the upper varṇa, the latter had a vested interest in putting up a mutually beneficial united front in the interest of maintaining their masculine hegemony over the lower order. Thus, Manu ⁵⁸ states quite unambiguously that Kṣatrīya and Brāhmaṇa need each other to prosper both in this world and the next.

As against the Brahmanical, the early Buddhist texts ⁵⁹ present a qualitatively different picture of the Gahapati/Vaiśya’s relationship with the ruling authority. Both Dīgha and Anguttara Nikāya enumerate Gahapatis among the treasures of the cakkavatti ruler, implying that they were regarded as being intrinsic to the kingship. In the Buddhist discourse then, it is not coercion but cooperation which is underlined. The Dīgha Nikāya states that it is a matter of good fortune if the Gahapatis are well inclined towards the king, and he can count on their loyalty. It is in this context that we will have to situate Buddha’s advice that paying tax is one of the five fruits of wealth. ⁶⁰ What explains this difference in the tenor of Buddhist text vis-à-vis the Brahmanical? R. S. Sharma is of the view that ‘Social Contract theory’ of the origin of the state found its first clear and developed exposition in the Dīgha Nikāya. ⁶¹ As for the sudda/Śūdra, Buddha exhibited class consciousness rather than awareness of birth when in Majjhima Nikāya he rejected the Brahmanical claim to superiority on the ground of higher birth which entitled them to the service of lower vanna/varṇa. Buddha stated that anyone including sudda who had wealth could have in their employment others who would serve them. ⁶² One may, therefore, conclude that in early Buddhism, ⁶³ in spite of the distinction being made on the grounds of high (uttath) and low (hina) family and work (kula and kamma), the sudda’s masculinity had a greater room for manoeuvre.

II

In the masculinist world, the male body was the idolized body. In fact, masculinity was seen to be inherent in a male body. Its strength and perfection were glorified. The vigour of this body was seen to be embodied in the male secretion of semen (vīrya/śukra/retas). Gargīyajyotiṣa ⁶⁴ states that bone, blood, intellect, longevity, wealth and sons are all in men’s semen. For this reason, in the Indic tradition, there was a great deal of focus on the enhancing (śukravardhaka) and production of semen (vīryavivardhana) and the diets (kaṭu/tikta/kaṣāya fluids to be avoided and madhura taken) that should be adopted for this purpose. ⁶⁵ Valourization of semen also meant that great loss of it (retovagrahaṇa) by excessive sexual indulgence was frowned upon. In fact, the myth of the moon suffering from phthisis (yakṣmā) was invoked many times as a warning. ⁶⁶ Ayurvedic treatises ⁶⁷ also prohibit nocturnal emission (śukrayoniśi) as well as masturbation. Mādhavanidāna even calls a person given to masturbatory acts as a fool (mūḍha). For the Ayurvedists, the concern with continence was not on moral grounds but in the interest of a healthier body. The Carakasaṃhitā states that celibacy is life enhancing (brahmacarya āyuṣyanāma). Nevertheless, Caraka also warns against forced retention of semen as a cause of impotence (śukravega nirodha ṣāṇḍyakāraṇam). Along with semen, the male organ penis (liṃga/menḍra/śiśna) was also a focus of Ayurvedic authorities. In fact, they were concerned not only with the loss of semen (śukranāṣa) but also with penile strength, its looseness (liṃgaśaithilya), which was to be avoided. Discussing the diseases that afflicted the penis, Caraka refers to herpes (kakṣā) and sores on the penis (liṃgapāka) which could destroy the spermatic cord affecting the ability to have coitus. To prevent men from picking any genital disease due to contact with the female vagina, Pañcasāyakaḥ ⁶⁸ advises women to keep their vagina clean (yonisaṃskāra) because women who make this effort are dear to husband and recipients of good luck. The primacy of semen and penis as constitutive of masculinity (puruṣalakṣaṇam) is evident from the fact that in the physiognomic texts, much energy is expanded on defining the size, shape and texture of penis and the smell of semen in predicting man’s fate. ⁶⁹

While phallic masculinity glorified a youthful body, it was also concerned with the ageing (vārdhakya) male body. Since greying hair and balding head were features of the elderly male body, Pañcasāyakaḥ ⁷⁰ suggests ways to prevent both. Vṛṣacikitsā was an important branch of Āyurveda which focused on the functioning of the male body to restore both its virility and fertility by means of virilification (vājikaraṇa) therapy where men were advised to take some aphrodisiac regularly. ⁷¹ After all then as presently, men have been bothered by what was in store for them in old age. A poet asks ‘When his hair turns grey what sort of a lover is a man? Women may take him like medicine, but their hearts will be set on others.’ The spectre of advancing age makes yet another poet comment wryly: ‘I have been made an actor in a farce. I know not what new comedy old age will have me dance with these white hairs for greasepaint.’ ⁷² Old men who could resist the cruel ageing process earned much appreciation. Bhāsa, ⁷³ in his play, calls attention to Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s venerable appearance (śraddheya rūpa) where in spite of his advanced age (vṛddho), his skin is without wrinkles and his arms are still well muscled. He further earns praise for having begotten a hundred sons (śataputrasya). So potent is Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s manliness that, Bhāsa concludes, Gods concerned for the safety of their domain made Dhṛtarāṣṭra blind.

In the Indic culture, the male body, unlike the female body, was never an object of scopophilic gaze. It was never portrayed as an object of erotic stimulation in the gaze of others. ⁷⁴ All the texts on Sanskrit poetics ⁷⁵ are in agreement that masculine beauty was more a matter of character; it was inherent and autonomous and lay in man’s capacity of heroism (tejas), nobility (audārya), tenacity (dhairya) and gravity (gāmbhīrya). Bāṇa’s description of the male body in the Kādambarī illustrates this cultural reality. A young ascetic Harita is described as follows:

His form was difficult to gaze upon, on account of his exceeding brilliance and he looked as if he was a second sun rising up … had his limbs fashioned out of lightning … with the flashing luster of his body he made the day seem as if it were possessed of the morning sunlight. ⁷⁶

This description of Harita does not even seem physical but is metaphorical, which transports his corporeal body into a rarified spiritual world. Bāṇa also gives the description of a young Śabara youth about whom he says:

Being hardened in body he seemed made of iron … as the hairline of his beard was just rising he looked like a cub of elephant whose broad temples were being adorned by streaks of ichor … his forehead was broad … he looked majestic with his two arms which hung as far as his knees … he looked attractive with his expansive chest. ⁷⁷

This description was in sync with puruṣalakṣaṇa of physiognomic texts. According to Varāhmihira, ⁷⁸ it is auspicious for men to have three, viz., chest, forehead and face that are broad (praśastam). Further, men who have chest that is stout, muscular and nipples sunken become kings. ⁷⁹ The Bhaviṣyapurāṇa ⁸⁰ used height as a factor in classifying men as best, average and inferior. Varāhmihira ⁸¹ too states that the best type of man is taller. Physiology, apart from an ideal male body, also required a very impactful masculine appearance. Mustachioed ⁸² and bearded (śmaśru) men ⁸³ are described as auspicious. ⁸⁴ A majestic male body also required a face which displayed manly essence and did not appear effeminate. Varāhmihira states that effeminate (strīmukha) face belongs to those who are issueless (anapatyanāma). ⁸⁵ This view is repeated by Utpala and Garuḍapurāṇa. ⁸⁶

We have already pointed out that a perfect body, one that was unmarked by any blemish or deformity was crucial for legitimizing royal rule. In the Mahābhārata, Dhṛtarāṣṭra lost his right over Hastināpura throne because of his blindness. Not just sovereignty but even admission in monastic order was barred on those grounds. Buddhist monastic rules for instance required that only physically fit and unblemished were ordained as bhikku in the Saṃgha and not deformed, lame, paralysed, blind, mute, deaf and dumb. ⁸⁷ In the Nāṭyaśāstra, ⁸⁸ persons who are dwarfish (vāman), hunchbacked (kubja), odd-faced (vikṛtānana) and have deformed bodies (vikṛtam) are described as nasty (durjan) and ill-natured (dusvabhāva) who can be engaged, says Bharata, in the role of slaves (dāsabhūmau). Sāmudrikaśāstra ⁸⁹ authorities were not just dismissive but vicious in othering men with deformities. A deformed (vikṛtaḥ) man is said to have the character of an ogre (rākṣasa), while Garga describes a disfigured (vikṛto) as a ghoul (piśāca). In the Garuḍapurāṇa, a squint-eyed (krūraḥ kekarane trāsa) man is said to be cruel. ⁹⁰ The Dharmaśāstra authorities were condemnatory and chastising towards such men. The Nāradasmṛti ⁹¹ states that physical assault on an impotent (paṇḍaka) as well as a cripple (vyangeṣu) is not a crime if they violate a customary rule. Furthermore, Nārada ⁹² justifies this stand by pronouncing them as impure of mankind (mala hyete manuṣyeṣu), thus dehumanizing and marginalizing them. Interestingly, while an unblemished male body was idealized, within the same masculinist world, somatophobia was a gendered discourse ⁹³ and all ascetic sects subscribed to the view that it was the female body which was an impediment on the path of salvation of the renouncer who was conceived as a male. ⁹⁴

III

One of the constitutive features of masculinity in the Indic culture was the ability to beget, particularly sons. ⁹⁵ So much so that Bhīṣma’s renunciation of that right made his enemies taunt his manhood. Gautama proceeded on his mahābhiniṣkramaṇa to attain Budha-hood only after he had fathered a son. But we also need to analyse how the role of this masculine father was conceived. Father was seen as an authoritarian figure who could not be questioned by his sons. Naciketa in the Kaṭha-Upaniṣad ⁹⁶ objected to his father Vājaśrava’s sham generosity in giving away old cows and the angered father gifted him to the God of death. When sage Kahoḍa’s as-yet-unborn son Aṣṭāvakra pointed out his mistake while he was engaged in teaching his pupils, the insulted father cursed him to be born deformed. ⁹⁷ Yet the very fact that both Naciketa and Aṣṭāvakra are renowned in Indic mythology for their wisdom shows the limitation of the father’s authority/anger succeeding in diminishing them. An authoritarian father was also a great disciplinarian ⁹⁸ whose words were a command. Paraśurāma killed his own mother on the order of his father. Rāma proceeded on 14 years of exile to honour his father’s words. Emotional distancing of the father from his progeny is valorized where the father becomes a renouncer. Pāli cannon narrates the tale of a young monk Sangamaji who would neither look at his young son nor speak to him. He earns high praise from Buddha as one who was truly free from bondage. ⁹⁹ Nonetheless, we also get instances of deep filial affection. The Buddhacarita ¹⁰⁰ tells us that Śudhodana did everything in his power to see that his son Siddhārtha was never exposed to the distressing realities of life. Arjuna lovingly recalls his childhood memory of climbing with his dust-covered body into the lap of Bhīṣma. ¹⁰¹ Daśaratha died with his exiled son Rāma’s name on his lips. ¹⁰²

Beyond the individual father was the ideology of the masculinist world for which it was imperative to establish its control over the procreative process which provided the bedrock of hegemonic patriarchal authority. Thus, in the conception of foetus, semen was valorized over the womb which was downgraded as a mere incubator. ¹⁰³ The Manusmṛti ¹⁰⁴ was even more categorical in its assertion that of the seed and the womb, the seed is superior; since all creatures assume the qualities of the seed but the qualities of the womb are never shared by the seed. Within the household, the socialization of the child by the maternal figure was highlighted as Cirakārin does. ¹⁰⁵ Nonetheless, masculinism had to forestall any possibility of either procreation ¹⁰⁶ or socialization ¹⁰⁷ of children (human resource of patriarchy) being claimed by women. The masterstroke was to firmly establish masculine control over their spiritual/knowledge rebirth. ¹⁰⁸ Thus, through the sacred ritual of ‘upanayana’, the male initiates were symbolically reborn as ‘dvija’ into the keeping of their teacher/ācārya. Āpastamba Dharmasūtra ¹⁰⁹ regards this second birth as the best (śreṣṭham janma) as against the initial physical birth which could be claimed by both parents.

It is also an interesting fact of history that kings, when they are referred to in the context of their subjects (prajā), acquired the persona of a caring father figure as Bhāsa notes. ¹¹⁰ Aśoka Maurya in the second separate rock edict ¹¹¹ makes the claim that all men are my children; just as I desire for my children that they should obtain welfare and happiness in this world and the next; the same I desire for all men. Kalhaṇa ¹¹² praises (janavatsala) King Ucchala who, when he heard complaints of distress of subjects, gave up every other work he was engaged in and rushed to remove their misery as a father of his sons (pitreva putrāṇām). But in spite of this hoary tradition of kings being portrayed as father, we get unique Kadamba inscriptions where masculine kings take pride in proclaiming their ability to care for their subjects like a mother. In their praśasti inscriptions, Kadamba rulers are variously styled as ‘sarvaprajāmbānām’ and ‘āśrita-janāmbānām. ¹¹³ This uniqueness was probably due to the prevalence of both matrilineal and bilateral kinship systems ¹¹⁴ in the region of Karnataka, which imbued the Kadamba sensibility in spite of their Brahmanic lineage.

IV

A very significant arena in which hegemonic masculinity is enacted is the domain of sexuality. This was not surprising, because for masculinist ideology, it was crucial to control sexuality as a means of controlling socio-sexual relations which were the linchpin of male authority. Whitaker ¹¹⁵ in his analysis of Indra in the Ṛgveda points to his representation as a hegemonic phallic deity. Indra is frequently called a bull and is said to be in possession of a thousand testicles. ¹¹⁶ Maruts are also exhorted to make sure that their masculine quality (pauṃsya) retains a youthful vigour and is not depleted. ¹¹⁷ This phallic sexuality implies that a potent man (vīra) dominates the woman. Both Indrāṇī ¹¹⁸ and Urvaśī ¹¹⁹ look upon their partners Indra and Purūravā as such a vīra. Urvaśī in fact explicitly acknowledges that though she did not seek it, Purūravā, the hero (vīra), pierced her three times a day and she followed his will for he was then the king (rājā) of her body (tanvastadāsīḥ).

What also stands out about hegemonic masculine sexuality is the multiplicity of sexual partners. Lee Siegel ¹²⁰ notes that within ancient Indic society, promiscuity was a formalized masculine virtue. Women who were conditioned to accept such a widespread social norm sometimes ended up kowtowing to this norm. In Kathāsaritsāgara, ¹²¹ a wife states quite candidly he is not likely to marry just me; hence she proceeds to bestow on him her female friends. On the other hand, no phallic male allowed other men to transgress his sexual partner. ¹²² Thus, there is no cuckolded husband in Sanskrit literature. ¹²³ Furthermore, the varṇa/class boundaries in forming sexual relations were rigidly drawn. We get reference to women who could not be approached sexually (agamyā), and Kāmasūtra ¹²⁴ includes royal women (rājadārā) among them. Manu ¹²⁵ prescribes decapitation of a limb for a Śūdra who violates dvija women. But indigent female of lower caste such as Carṣaṇī who performed forced labour (viṣṭi) could be made the target of sexual advance. Furthermore, Kāmasūtra ¹²⁶ lists a number of state officials who could use their official position to gain sexual access to women; even as those men who were poor and powerless were encouraged by masculinist society to secure patronage of powerful by making gift of their women. ¹²⁷ The masculinist society’s reification of female sexuality is distressing in its toxic nakedness.

Hegemonic masculine sexuality is at centre-stage in the Kāmaśāstrīya discourse ¹²⁸ ; men are advised to follow a regimen which would make their penis iron hard (lauhapama) because only then can they attain the sexual conquest of women (nārīṣu durjayo bhavati). Verses on sexual union (saṃbhogaśṛṃgāra) in Ratimañjarī ¹²⁹ explicitly present it as an act where the male with his penis takes the active role and women are the only passive recipients. Pañcasāyakaḥ ¹³⁰ not only gives preparations to increase the flow of semen but also suggests ways to prevent its quick ejaculation (vīryastambhan). Given this conception of a phallic male who as a dominating subject is always in command of sexual relations; when Kāmaśāstra presents women in an active role, it is described as behaving like a man (puruṣavat), and this coital posture with women on top is labelled as ‘puruṣāyita’. Since this form of coitus went against the normative sex posture, it was also called ‘viparītarata’. The assumed masculine vigour of this posture was reflected not only in the above labels but also in the descriptive details. Poet Cittappa, ¹³¹ employing the metaphor of viparītarata, describes how the king’s armies are being mauled by a dangerous (karālānanā) female leopard (vyāghrī). This she leopard is portrayed to be on the top of this emasculated army. Perhaps ‘puruṣavat’ role, enacted by a woman, was perceived to have a subversive potential; it, therefore, needed to be invisiblized by taking away from her the agency and restoring it to the man. Thus, in Amaruśataka, ¹³² while the woman remains on top, the initiative is reclaimed by the man below. The nāyikā states,

he put me on his breast and propelled by passionate desire he firmly bit my lip, he pulled away my garments with the toe of his feet as with a pair of tongs and started doing what for the rogue was the proper thing to do.

In another verse, ¹³³ the poet sketches the abject failure of the woman to uphold ‘viparītarata’ posture because, as he puts it, how can women sustain masculine stamina (pauruṣarasaḥ strīṇām kutaḥ sidhyati)?

Another manifestation of dominating masculine sexuality was that male donned the persona of a hunter who took pride in chasing. In the erotic literature, Padminī-nāyikā, who is deeply shy by nature, is valued by the male as the most desirable partner for sexual union. ¹³⁴ On the other hand, men cannot be depicted as demure, although they could sometimes put on an act of bashfulness (vṛīdāmnāṭayati) as Agnimitra does in Kālidāsa’s play. ¹³⁵ Agnimitra’s companion characterizes such a show as a nod to public custom (lokavyavhāraḥ) where the groom (navavaro) is required to display diffidence (lajjāturo bhavtīti). Furthermore, erotic relations were described as a war where men alone had a right to strike (prahaṇan) and women could only respond with moaning sounds (sītkāra). Kāmaśāstra justifies this equation on the ground that while men are impetuous and tough (kaṭhora) by nature, women are passive (niṣprāṇa) and weak (abalā). ¹³⁶ In this gendered imagery of erotic relations, men occupied a sadistic position while women had only a masochistic role to play.

If to desire was a male prerogative, renouncing that desire, too, signified a virile masculine man. In Indic texts, ¹³⁷ mastery of the senses is ‘dama’, and it is a virtue that is defined in the context of men. ¹³⁸ Buddhist texts ¹³⁹ describe a self-restraint monk as a ‘stallion’ of a man who is ready to face the army of Māra and triumph. In fact, Shramanic sects gave a different spin to the notion of fearlessness. One who annihilates the fetters of karmic cycle of rebirth is truly fearless. Renunciation was heroic as were the monks with their penis sheathed like an elephant. The great Yogi Śiva is described as ‘Ūrdhvaretas’—one who makes semen flow upwards, never letting it fall, which was the essence of his great yogic power. ¹⁴⁰

V

Lindisfarne and Cornwall, ¹⁴¹ in the introduction of their book, had posed a few important questions, viz., Are only men masculine? What happens when biological women enact a masculine role? Do they then subvert masculinism of the society at large where gendered roles are assigned on the basis of sex? Furthermore, masculinity appears less stable ¹⁴² when it gets disassociated from the male body altogether, and the possibility of female masculinity is considered. At such a time, masculinity might become very ‘visible’ because it is residing at someplace where it should not normally be. In reaction, the masculinist world strategizes to neutralize its very radical implications. As Custodi notes,

A woman who wants to become a man…constitutes a direct challenge to the social and political status-quo, and her sexual transformation thus must be allayed, undermined, inauthenticated, made only temporary, or outright denied. ¹⁴³

Śikhaṇḍin’s character in the Mahābhārata ¹⁴⁴ is a good illustration of this premise. Śikhaṇḍin was born a biological female Śikhaṇḍinī but is brought up as a son (putravat) who then goes on to miraculously acquire male organ with the blessing of a Yakṣa. ¹⁴⁵ However, her newly minted male body does not erase the memory of her female origin. The foremost masculine Kṣatrīya Bhīṣma categorically refuses to treat her/him as a legitimate opponent on the battlefield since he had vowed never to lift a weapon against women (strīyām), one who had been a woman previously (strīpūrvake), one with woman’s name (strīnāmni) or one in the guise of woman (strīsvarūpiṇī). ¹⁴⁶ The epic also remains ambivalent on whether to give Śikhaṇḍin the credit for causing Bhīṣma’s death as Custodi observes, ‘weaving in and out of the question. Circling around it, repeatedly contradicting and undermining itself. The question … seems destined to remain as ambiguous as Śikhaṇḍin ultimate gender’. ¹⁴⁷

Within the masculinist world, sovereign/sovereignty was perceived as a male prerogative. Therefore, where female rulers sought to exercise sovereignty, they had to assume the male persona in order to legitimize their authority. They took to dressing as male with male name/title. In early medieval Andhra and Kashmir, we are presented with two such sovereign Queens Rudramā and Diddā. Rudramā dressed in masculine garb and took the name Rudradeva. Talbot ¹⁴⁸ points out that 84% of Rudramā’s inscriptions used a masculine version of her name along with the masculine title of ‘Mahārāja’. Diddā once she became sovereign in her own right issued inscriptions with male titles of rājan and deva affixed to her name. ¹⁴⁹ However, this assumption of the male persona remained just a superficial veneer and did not fundamentally alter the masculinist bias of the political arena where they operated. When the king of Devagiri was worsted by Rudramā, the former’s court poet Hemādri very ingeniously explained his patron’s defeat on his reluctance to kill a woman. ¹⁵⁰ Furthermore, after Rudramā’s death, a panegyric Pratāparudrīya composed in the reign of her successor and grandson Pratāparudra attempted to explain Rudramā’s assumption of sovereign authority on the ground that as her parents were the incarnation of Śiva and Pāravatī it was divine sanction which made possible sovereign rulership to reside in a feminine form. ¹⁵¹ Within the hyper-masculine political world, any real exercise of power by women was always viewed as illegitimate. ¹⁵² Diddā, for all her energetic efforts as an administrator and ruler, earned opprobrium from Kalhaṇa, who was convinced that she had used black magic to gain the throne. Using abusive language, he states ‘this is how that rāṇḍa established her complete sway over the realm’. ¹⁵³

Masculinism prohibited women from aspiring to an exalted status of a liberated being. ¹⁵⁴ Within the androcentric world, both renunciation and ‘liberation’ had a strong masculinist bias. The remarkable Jaina debates ¹⁵⁵ cogently outline the differing viewpoints on the soteriological destiny of women. While Śvetāmbaras and Yāpanīya sect of Jains accepted that women in the female body could aspire to liberation, the Digambaras completely rejected such a view. Thus, 19th Jaina Tīrthankara Malli for the Digambaras remained a male sentient being Mallinātha. Just as among Jains, for Buddhists too, nirvāṇa/nibbāna remained a masculine prerogative. A Buddhist nun’s devotion made Buddha promise to her that she would in her next life be born a man. Buddhist philosopher Vasubandhu condescendingly states that an adept who reaches the highest level completely annihilates any propensities towards femaleness and will be reborn as a man in all future existences. ¹⁵⁶ Olivelle ¹⁵⁷ too points out that in the mainstream Brahmanical Shastric tradition, both women and Śūdra males were prohibited from renouncing or aspiring to mokṣa.

A great paradox of the masculinist culture is that although the enacting of a masculine role by a woman does not enjoy legitimacy, the sheer possession of a male body is also not enough to guarantee that a man will necessarily be considered manly. Most scholars who have theorized on masculinity are of the opinion that, although masculinity is not an abstraction, at the same time it is not seen to be embodied in mere physiological capacity either. ‘Manhood’ requires a proof, one that may vary across cultures but still has to be furnished. In other words, masculinity far from being inherent is performative. For instance, a son is exhorted by his mother not to be without wrath (nirmarṣam) without enterprise (nirutsāha) and without manliness (nirvīrya). ¹⁵⁸ Kṛṣṇa implores Arjuna to fight and not to show unmanliness (klaibyam mā sma gamaḥ). ¹⁵⁹ Overall cultural perception is that without perseverance (puruṣārtha), ¹⁶⁰ a ‘man’ would not be displaying ‘manliness’ (pauruṣa). ¹⁶¹ Man’s claim to masculine status could also be easily questioned if he failed to beget. Bhīṣma is insulted by Śiśupāla for living like a eunuch (klība) ¹⁶² and describes Bhīṣma’s oath of celibacy, a sham which he maintains either from impotence or stupidity in allowing another man to beget Kuru heirs. ¹⁶³

A husband’s manliness was repeatedly disparaged by their wives if they failed to perform the role of a protector. ¹⁶⁴ Pāṇḍava’s are castigated by Draupadī as impotent (klība/napuṃsaka) for not showing any courage in safeguarding her. Even Sītā, the epitome of devoted pativratā wife, questions Rāma’s decision to leave her vulnerable in Ayodhyā as he proceeds on his exile. She employs subtle sarcasm to needle Rāma by describing him as a woman with the body of a man (strīyam puruṣavigraham). ¹⁶⁵ In the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, ¹⁶⁶ Urvaśī is even more aggressively insulting of husband Purūravā for failing to defend her pet rams. Without mincing any words, she states: ‘I am undone by this sheepish husband lacking in manliness (napuṃsa) but posing vaingloriously as a hero…my husband sleeps terror stricken at night but poses himself as a man in the daylight.’ For a man to be treated as a husband, he also had to function as a provider for his wife. ¹⁶⁷ Only then could he truly claim the title of ‘bhartā’ (sustainer) while his wife would be seen as his ‘bhāryā’ (supported one). ¹⁶⁸ Conversely, if a husband was sustained by his wife, the masculinist ideology condemned him as ‘bhāryopjīvī’, he was cursed and was unfit for being invited to the śrāddha ceremony. ¹⁶⁹

Ancient Indian text on Dramaturgy Nāṭyaśāstra ¹⁷⁰ theorizes on the possibility of male or female taking on an opposite role. Bharata calls this imitation of someone else’s character as rūpānusāriṇī. Should one read this as a wilful dislocation of masculine or feminine characteristics? Imitating the persona of another sex and in the process acquiring and displaying its gesture (hāva) and emotions (bhāva) must have had the effect of breaking boundaries to an extent. Nonetheless, it would be difficult to gauge the scope of such a transformation. ¹⁷¹ It will not be too far-fetched to conclude that the realities of masculinist society with its gendered ideology would have created barriers which would have been difficult to transcend. For instance, the production of plays when they happened in the setting of palaces and private homes must have necessitated that all dramatic characters including those of men were enacted by females ¹⁷² as the entry of male outsiders in those spatial zones would have been prohibited. Furthermore, in the setting of the above sites, plays which required a staging of violent fighting, great speed of movement and much excitement would not have been chosen to be performed since Nāṭyaśāstra ¹⁷³ specifically forbids females from acting in them. Evidently, then, gender frontiers were not so porous that they could be easily breached.

VI

The desire for the intimacy and display of emotions has always been seen as non-masculine characteristics. The hegemonic male of patriarchy was more likely to dismiss these notions as feminine preoccupations. If some men indulged in them, they were likely to be categorized as sissy. We need to examine if such sentiments can be traced in our sources with respect to men and just what is the nature of it.

Deep emotional involvement with one’s mother was celebrated in the Indic culture. A particularly touching verse in the Mahābhārata ¹⁷⁴ reads that people age, become sorrowful and experience loneliness when their mother is no more. A son states ¹⁷⁵ that no one could be dearer than her (nāsti mātṛsamapriyā) because, for a child, the mother was the ultimate refuge (nāsti mātṛsamachāyā). Varāhmihira, ¹⁷⁶ enumerating on the signs of five great men, states that śaśa category of men are devoted to their mother (mātṛhito). Interestingly, Sātavāhana ruler with a metronymic Gotamiputta is described as one of unchecked devotion towards his mother (avipanamātususūsākasa). ¹⁷⁷ It is an intriguing aspect of the masculinist world that, though sons defer to their father’s authority, they display emotional attachment to their mother. Yet fathers entertained profound feelings for their sons as Aśvaghoṣa acknowledges in the Buddhacarita. ¹⁷⁸ Bhāsa ¹⁷⁹ too notes that a father’s heart is always in expectation of his son (putrāpekṣhīṇi khalu pitṛhṛdayāni). In the play Urubhangam, Bhāsa refers to the father’s love for the son in all circumstances (sarvāvasthāyam hṛdayasannihitaḥ putrasneho). ¹⁸⁰ Daśaratha expresses a death wish from parting with Rāma (putraviyoga). ¹⁸¹ Dhṛtarāṣṭra refers to his obsessive love for sons (putrasneha) which never allowed him to be critical of them. ¹⁸² It is asserted that nothing can be more pleasant than the touch of the son in an embrace (putrasparśātsukhataraḥ). ¹⁸³

Marital intimacy is also sketched out in our sources. Draupadī was described as a beloved wife dearer even than life. ¹⁸⁴ Rāma describes Sītā as his companion who had shared all his sorrows. He goes on to assert that without her he could not bear to live even for a moment. He valued her above all so much so that without her he had no desire for ruling the entire earth or even the domain of the Gods themselves. ¹⁸⁵ Named wives apart even as a general thought, it was believed that a householder’s home even if crowded with sons, grandsons, daughters-in-laws and servants was virtually a lonely place for him if he had no wife. For a house was not that which was made of brick and mortar, it was the wife who made the house home; a home without her was akin to wilderness. ¹⁸⁶ Nonetheless, hegemonic masculinity, which delights in sexual enjoyment with multiple partners, is equally centre-stage in textual sources. A youth about to marry is particularly advised to sow his wild oats and not make the mistake of leaving the broad avenue of prostitute quarter (veśyā mahāpatha) and embark on an ill course of matrimony (kulavadhū kumārgeṇa). ¹⁸⁷

While men have had a schizophrenic attitude vis-à-vis women, they have been more forthcoming in giving voice to the affection they feel for their brothers and friends. In the Rāmāyaṇa, ¹⁸⁸ when Lakṣamaṇa lies senseless on the battlefield, Rāma’s lamentations are heart-wrenching. He says that he neither cares for Sītā nor for his own life; because if he were to search the world, he could find another wife like Sītā but not a brother and companion equal to Lakṣamaṇa. Rāma is adamant that just as Lakṣamaṇa followed him into exile, so too will he follow him to the abode of Yama. ¹⁸⁹

Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna are tied to each other in an unbreakable tie of both kinship and deep friendship (priyasakhā) with Kṛṣṇa asking Indra for a boon of eternal love for him (prītim pārtheṇaśāśvatim). ¹⁹⁰ Kṛṣṇa not only declares to Arjuna that ‘You are mine and I am yours’, ¹⁹¹ but such is his love for him that he even describes Arjuna as half his body (śarīrārdha). ¹⁹² The depth of his emotional attachment makes him value Pārtha over his own wives, sons and even all other kinsmen. ¹⁹³

Tears and lamentations are particularly gendered behaviours and attributed to feminine nature in most of the masculinist cultures and the Indic culture is no exception. Garuḍapurāṇa ¹⁹⁴ states that men’s crying that is distressed and harsh with abundant tears does not lead to happiness. Varāhmihira is of a similar view and says that weeping which is soft, tearless and without wretchedness is auspicious (śubhavaham) for men; whereas one which is rough (rukṣam), abject (dīnam) and accompanied by copious tears (pracurāśru) is inauspicious (na śubhapradam). ¹⁹⁵ Yet in spite of this cultural norm, our sources do acquaint us with lamenting men even great Kṣatrīya kings who were the epitome of manliness. Rāmāyaṇa ¹⁹⁶ refers to Daśaratha’s tearful sobbing voice (vāṣpopahatayā) his wretched lamentations (vilāpa) and his fainting fits (mūrchitaḥ) after Rāma’s exile. At the end of the great Kuru war, Dhṛtarāṣṭra too displays a tearful wretched face (yaccāśrupātāt kalilam vadanam) which is condemned for being against norms (aśāstra) and is not praised by the wise (na praśaṃsti panḍitaḥ). ¹⁹⁷ But perhaps the most heartbreaking description of a man’s grief is depicted by the celebrated poet Kālidāsa in his epic Kāvya Raghuvaṃśa. ¹⁹⁸ Kālidāsa tells us that king Aja took the body of his dead wife Indumati and placed it in his lap with great love (nitānta vatsalaḥ); he then started lamenting (vilalāpa) with tears streaming down his eyes (vāṣpagadadam). Aja picked up the garland which had fallen on Indumati and had taken her life and placed it on his own chest desiring death for himself. Filled with unbearable sorrow, Aja laments that with his wife dead, he has lost his forbearance (dhṛtirastamitā), happiness and pleasure in everything around him; for things are now without meaning and even my bed lies empty (pariśūnyam śayanīmadhya me). Since grief was a gendered notion, it could be unpacked only through feminine imagery of lamentation, swooning and voicing a profound sense of loss and emptiness. As a man gets feminized in his grief, wherever we are interface with a normative voice, the grieving man is censured.

VII

Within the phallic masculine world, tṛtīyāprakṛti occupies the slot of marginalized masculinity, which was also stigmatized. Zwilling and Sweet ¹⁹⁹ point out that deep hostility and contempt for them is demonstrated in later Vedic texts where ‘klība’ is called false (anṛta) and is sacrificed to sin (pāpamāna). Arjuna’s persona of an impotent transvestite dancer is described as one which is despised by the world (lokaparibhūta). ²⁰⁰ The Dharmaśāstras used this revulsion for the third sex to impose many disabilities on them. Vasiṣṭha and Manu bar them from being invited to the śrāddha ceremony. ²⁰¹ Nārada ²⁰² even denies the despised eunuch (klībam kutsita) any right to holy water being administered to them.

Reviled they may have been, but in the context of Indic culture, they are not invisibalized in contrast to those cultures where dimorphic sex classification prevailed. In fact, man’s malehood is foregrounded not just in contrast to femininity but also quite crucially vis-à-vis the defective men who are, therefore, not men (napuṃsaka). ²⁰³ One of the most important reasons for classifying certain men as eunuchs was because they lacked virility/semen and were impotent (klība/paṇḍaka/ṣaṇḍa). ²⁰⁴

Ayurvedic texts ²⁰⁵ link semen-rich manhood to correct coital posture (men on top) adopted by parents, where this is not the case, ‘ṣaṇḍa’ may result, who behaves like a woman and is incapable of discharging semen. Thus, a characteristic feature commonly associated with tṛtīyāprakṛti (‘tṛtīyā’ is in feminine gender) is their effeminate nature (straiṇa/strīceṣṭākāraḥ). In the Atharvaveda, ²⁰⁶ klība are described with braided long hair (kurīra) wearing a female head ornament (opaśa). Kāmasūtra ²⁰⁷ describing ‘strīrūpiṇī’ tṛtīyāprakṛti states that they are feminine not only in their dress (veśa) but also in speech (alāpa) and deportment (līlā); they should mimic feminine traits of pliability (mṛdutvam), cowardness (bhīrutā), childishness (mugdhā), patience (sahiṣṇutā) and modesty (vṛīḍā). What is being made obvious here is how in spite of being men, they lack a masculine persona.

Within phallic society, defective men did not have access to male occupations. In the Nāṭyaśāstra ²⁰⁸ they are inferior (adhama) characters who are placed in the setting of an inner quarter (antaḥpura). Bharata is of the view that Nirmuṇda ²⁰⁹ among eunuchs can be employed as escorts of royal women and for guarding maidens. Varṣadhara ²¹⁰ (literally those whose seminal discharge has been arrested) who have poor vitality and are eunuch of feminine nature can be employed to run errands as love messengers. But perhaps the most characteristic occupation of eunuch was dancing. As early as Atharvaveda, ²¹¹ we get a phrase ‘dancing insanely like a klība’. No wonder Max Weber says Zwilling and Sweet perceptively noted that only women and klība danced in the Vedic age. ²¹² Furthermore, since it was a male prerogative to act as a witness klība were excluded from that function. ²¹³

A major reason for the precariousness of tṛtīyāprakṛti’s existence in the society was because they were not ‘man’ enough to be accorded the right to inheritance which was a male prerogative par excellence. All Dharmaśāstra ²¹⁴ authorities disqualify klība/ṣaṇḍa from inheriting, although they were entitled to maintenance. As we have noted earlier, a distinctive and defining feature of masculinity was the capacity to beget. Since tṛtīyāprakṛti were impotent either by nature (nisargapaṇḍaka) or by castration (vadhṛiśca) their lack of reproductive capacity made any marital tie with them null and void. ²¹⁵ Women could walk out of marriage with such men without any opprobrium being attached as it was not perceived as a sacrament that was binding.

A very significant component in the mapping of masculinity is sexuality. Were tṛtīyāprakṛti perceived as sexual actors or even as objects of sexual desire? Did their sexuality lay in its absence? Kāmasūtra ²¹⁶ refers to amorous relations (potāratam) that are formed without attachment or feelings with lower order, and Yaśodhara, the commentator of Kāmasūtra, includes napuṃsaka in it (ubhayavyañjanā potā napuṃsakam). Kāmasūtra ²¹⁷ refers to fellatio or mouth congress (aupariṣṭakam) being performed for other men by servile (paricārakaḥ) effeminate non-bearded youth dressed in female garb with earrings, etc. Yaśodhara identifies them as less virile (mandarāga) and those unable to find female partners (strīlabdhavṛtayaḥ). Kāmasūtra ²¹⁸ also refers to tṛtīyāprakṛti who maintain a manly appearance (puruṣarūpiṇī) and have a sexual preference for men but dissimulate this fact (pracchankāma puruṣam lipsamānā), they earn their livelihood (or live their sexual fantasy) by taking on the job of masseurs (saṃvāhaka). Vatsyāyana in this context also refers to these masseurs touching with their bodies and at the same time pressing the thighs (gatraiuru) of their male clients. Kāmasūtra ²¹⁹ refers to anal sex (adhoratam). Yaśodhara explains it as a wrong way (vimārgeṇa) since it is not the place for the ejaculation of semen. He, therefore, considers it as a form of coitus with respect to tṛtīyāprakṛti.

Interestingly, in the Sanskritic texts of Brahmanical leanings, where the focus is only on the potency of manhood, the in-between male is only looked upon as defective impotent male who could sometimes be a desirable sexual partner for the hegemonic nāyaka as in the bhāṇa Ubhayābhisārikā ²²⁰ but not threatening in any way. However, in the heterodox sects like Buddhism and Jainism, where celibacy of the renouncing monks (who can be referred to as ‘spiritual eunuchs’) was the chief focus, the third sex was perceived as endowed with hyper-sexuality and therefore a threat to monk’s chastity. In Jaina discourse, ‘napuṃsakaveda’ is the sexuality of third heap/sex (trairaśika), which is proclaimed to be more intense ‘like the conflagration of a great city’ and longer lasting like a ‘heated brick klin’. ²²¹ The Jaina Acarangasūtra warns monks of the danger of seduction from klība and even the possibility of rape by napuṃsaka whether dressed as a female or male. ²²² Both Digambaras and Śvetāmbaras considered napuṃsaka unfit to attain mokṣa. ²²³

Like the Jains, Buddhists too perceived ‘paṇḍakas’ as highly lustful. Buddhaghoṣa states that they have an unquenchable desire which makes them slaves to their libido. Vasubandhu too asserted that paṇḍakas lack the mental ability to be introspective because of their extreme defilement of senses. ²²⁴ Thus, both Buddhists and Jains not only denied ordination as monks to tṛtīyāprakṛti but also prohibited any interaction with them because of the fear of being stigmatized by association with them. Power ²²⁵ refers to a Mahāyana Buddhist discourse which states that dharma/dhamma must not be taught to eunuchs, no interaction should be had with them and even their greetings should not be reciprocated.

What this survey of the concept of masculinities in Indic culture tells us is that a preoccupation with the notion of manliness (pauruṣam) permeated all facets of society, and unravelling the intricate pattern of what being a man represented would deepen our understanding of gender relations in the society.