The Why and The How of Categories: A Look at Devdutt Pattnaik's 'The Pregnant King'
There is the universal male and the female, our two main categories in society and in somecountries, the only categories. Anyone, caught in between these two categories has a tough time indeed, thus the word ‘caught’. We do have other terms that have cropped up over the past many decades, categories to accommodate the non-male and the non-female—transgenders, transsexuals, and many others that social media can educate the uneducated on, it has become the de facto educator in this regard. But social media is not real life, and our legal institutions are lagging behind.
The dominant categories of the system are poles apart, leaving individuals to carve out an identity in between these two extremes. The conventional is what we know, that has a place in society and is recognised. The unconventional is everything else, left behind. And that is what the term ‘queer’ stands for, that we take it to stand for—the uncategorised. It’s uncommon and baffles our current system. It would baffle anyone, who have been taught only the simplified version of what constitutes identity.
In our Age, social media has facilitated awareness of various identities. Alternate forms of gender identity are non-binary, in-between the two extremes.The prefix ‘trans’ in Latin means ‘beyond’; transgender would be beyond ‘normal genders’, ones who change their assigned roles in society
while a transsexual would be one who seeks to change their assigned biology, while the transvestite is one who derives pleasure by dressing in clothing associated with the opposite sex.
We know that India is a country, rich in culture and tradition with numerous variations in every sphere of life. But parts that add to this richness seem to have been swept away to the margins of society. Every culture has its history, known to the masses through its legends. Our aim is to explore the marginalised identities present within Indian mythology, and how our culture didn’t shy away from recognising the areas between the two extremes, i.e of masculine and feminine, in the past. The regional and individual variations of every myth shed light upon the all-inclusiveness of Indian myths. Of the inherent acceptance that Indian gods are known for throughout these tales.
We will be looking into a modern Indian myth, The Pregnant King and the identity crisis that befalls our chosen character, King Yuvanashva, through whose struggles, the rigidity of social structures is exposed.
Indian culture still retains fragments of its unconventional zones—from the hijra community to the classical Indian dance forms, to our Gods and their exploits. The Indian myth, ‘The Mahabharata’ has quite a few characters, involved in breaking the norms to achieve their ends, from taking on the role of the opposite sex, to disguising as one or behaving like one even, the Indian epic is filled with such situations. Yet these are blurred, looked over, never given the spotlight.
The modern retelling of Shikhandi’s story by Devdutt Pattanaik in ‘Shikhandi’ presents the varied kind of identities that enriched Indian mythology. Shikhandi is the most common queer character known, because of her role in the Mahabharata, though only her purpose is focused on, to be used as a shield for Arjuna against Bhisma. The role that Shikandi plays is decisive in the Mahabharata, yet it is seen in a negative light. Perhaps over the years, it came to be seen as negative. But modern re-tellings give us a different perspective, shed light upon the marginalised, and upon the unconventional attributes that we all possess but most often never draw upon.
Modern re-tellings like in Pattanaik’s ‘Shikhandi’ and in C. B Divakaruni’s novel ‘The Palace of Illusions’ give us an inside perspective, her backstory. Shikhandi was born a female, raised as a male with the expectations of a male placed on her by a vengeful father. She was married to another woman as well, and it is at this moment when she experiences a crisis, a confrontation of what her body was and what she had been raised to be. Shikhandi would have gone through a gender dysphoria—an emotional distress that comes from feeling conflicted about one’s body. An unfortunate yaksha by the name of Sthunakarna comes to her aid at this point in her life. and gives his genitals to her, thereby making her a man (Sthunakarna is unfortunate, as his generosity earns him the scorn of his King Kubera, and causes him to remain a woman until Shikhandi’s death.)
In ‘the Pregnant King’, there are a great many instances of fluidity, category-wise; the one that works as a catalyst to the plot’s events, when the character of Somvat becomes a woman to be seen as a wife, then there are mentions of Arjuna’s time as a eunuch and his experiences, the god Ila who is worshiped in Yuvanashva’s kingdom, who is also known as Illeshwari (because Shiva’s spell made him into a woman for a time), Krishna who turned into Mohini for Iravan, the Bahugami-priestesses who are men but are not attracted to women. Devdutt Pattnaik is an author who has extensively delved into Indian myths of every region in India and brought to focus the rich and varied representations of queer characters. The gods of India, the mystical circumstances and supernatural elements combine together to weave various narratives that portray queer characters with significant roles.
Yuvanashva is the king, who in need of an heir to officially takeover the ruling of the kingdom from his mother, the capable Queen regent Shilavati, acquires a magic potion that would help his wives to become pregnant by seeking aid from the Siddhas. The Siddhas perform the needed ritual, and then give him a magic potion that is potent enough to ensure an offspring. A grand cow-giving ceremony is held and all newly-wed brahmana couples are given a cow by the queens in exchange for their blessings. Two brahmana boys, Somvat and Sumedha masquerade as a couple so that the latter could gain a cow ( a cow was seen as an essential need for a household). Somvat, out of deep affection for his friend agrees to dress as the wife. They are caught for their deception and thrown into prison cells. It is at this point, that Somvat’s despair causes the yaksha Sthunakarna to appear before him and offer an exchange.
Consider the excerpt: “...I am here to help you. I once had what you had. Gave it to Shikhandi, you see,” (Page 128)
And the yaksha presents convincing arguments to get Somvat to accept his proposal as seen in this excerpt:
“‘Life is any day better than death,’ said Sthunakarna, ‘The body does not matter.’
‘It matters whether you are a man or woman,’ said Somvat. ‘A woman is not free, she has to obey
her father, husband, and son.’
‘What have we here? An intellectual!” Sthunakarna said sarcastically. “No one is free in this world.
Even men are fettered to their lineage.’” (Page 134)
Eventually Somvat agrees, and the yaksha eagerly fulfils the agreement and vanishes. But king Yuvanashva refuses to accept Somvat as a woman, insisting that once born a man, one cannot be a woman. Their pleading of their case fails due Yuvanashva’s adherence to Dharma.
Consider the following excerpt:
“...’Did you enter the temple with a man dressed as a woman or with a woman who was
your wife?’
Sumedha replied, ‘I came in with my soulmate, first wrapped in a woman’s garment and now
wrapped in a woman’s body.’” (Page 155)
Yuvanashva eager to prove himself as a capable rule, and upholder of dharma insists on rules being strictly adhered to.
Excerpt: “ ...Yuvanashva asked Somvat, ‘Why should we treat you as a woman?”
‘Because I have the body of a woman.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Because I feel like a woman.’
‘Was it always so?’
‘No. Yesterday I thought of Sumedha as a friend. Today I feel he is my husband.’’’
Somvat and Sumedha hold firm to their choice to remain a couple and are burned to death for it. Yuvanashva’s first judgement haunts him, literally till the late years of his life. The ghosts of Somvati and Sumedha haunt the king, and trick him into drinking the magic potion instead of water to quench his thirst. Thus, placing him in a situation that would have him experience the blurring of lines.
The stakes of the novel are thus set; Yuvanashva’s belief in the dominant ideology of the prescribed roles in society is clearly displayed in his judgement upon the two boys. As the novel progresses, there is the gradual erosion of this belief, brought about by the king’s own personal experiences,
the emotions that he feels from being a mother comes into conflict with his role as a king after Mandhata is born from his body.
.
When Yuvanashva shoes signs of pregnancy, the royal doctor and his mother, Shilavati keep the matter under wraps, with the latter determined to kill the child.
Excerpt: “ If it is a child, as you say it is, then what will Yuvanashva be after he gives birth to it, that is if he survives the childbirth? A woman? A half-woman? What? Who will accept such a man as a king? It will be the end of his kingship. And that child, a man born of a man. Everybody will consider it a monster...If this child survives, I will have a son and a grandson but Vallabhi will have no king...Kill that thing in my son’s thigh...or I will do it myself.’” (Page 195)
Shilavati’s initial abhorrence for Mandhata gradually weakens, after Yuvanashva’s wives intervene and prevent Shilavati from drowning the baby in a pot of milk.
Excerpt: “‘It’s a baby. For thirteen years the four of us have struggled to have a baby. And now you want to kill it. Have you no heart? What kind of a woman are you?’ asked Simantini
Shilavati strode towards her, ignoring her words, determined to snatch the baby...What would people say? Her son was pregnant with child. She would be the butt of jokes across Ila-vrita. ‘He could not make any women pregnant so he got himself pregnant,’ they would say. She would not
let them. This had to be done.”” (Page 200)
His wives experience mixed emotions from feelings of bafflement to the joy of having a child in their midst after thirteen years. The sense of envy and a lack of purpose only creeps in later when they are made to feel like the barren wives with a husband who had become pregnant. The novel brings in the restrictiveness of roles. The wives are assigned as broodmares, yet do not conceive, Yuvanashva’s role is that of a father, yet he finds it lacking, the capable and intelligent Queen mother can rule only on behalf of her son; the dissatisfaction with their roles stems from its inherent lack. The purpose of their roles is clear, a smooth functioning of society, but the assignment of these roles do not suit the individuals, bringing about the conflicts that have been present throughout our times, yet is often never addressed.
Yuvanashva faces an identity crisis after Mandhata’s birth, that he cannot find an expression for. He gains deep satisfaction in nursing his son, much to the embarrassment of all who witness it and he has to fight to keep his son beside him. The need to be seen as Mandhata’s mother influences his actions from there. The roles of mother or father, the tags attached to these genders by society make it impossible for him to reach a balance. It sheds light on how each category is lacking, an individual is not whole when they strive to remain in just one category.
He is resentful when Simantini, his first wife is acknowledged as the mother of his child, and is alone in his despair with just the two ghosts for company. His mother, his wives, his friend and the royal doctor who were witness to the birth of his son insist on keeping the truth away from public knowledge. At odds with his mother, and his wives, and later on his son, Yuvanashva leaves his kingdom for the forests in anger when Mandhata adamantly refuses to acknowledge him as his mother.
Excerpt: “Mandhata: ‘...I was raised believing that my father was a king, that my mother was his first queen, and that I was his firstborn, his heir. I will not let anything shake this belief.’
‘You yourself said that a man born of a man’s body cannot be king.’
‘That was a riddle. This is my life.’” (Page 293)
Excerpt: Yuvanashva—‘...Don’t forsake a truth because it is convenient...I gave birth to you. I nursed you on these breasts. I held you in my arms and put you to sleep. This is your truth. Accept it like a man. Accept it like a king.’” (Page 293)
The dismissiveness shown by Mandhata for Yuvanasha’s revelation of being his ‘birth mother’ deeply hurts Yuvanashva. Yuvanashva only gains insight, and peace when he leaves the trappings of society and joins the company of sages, where the idea of categories and its lack is highlighted. Our culture is more like a set of guidelines; our categories should be our guidelines. Yuvanashva’s dual role conflict never reaches a balance until he leaves the trappings of society; his mother is a pragmatic woman who knows in their society, a mother cannot be king, and Mandhata later on uses the same logic to state that a son cannot inherit a kingdom through his mother. Yuvanashva through all this logic and rationalism, yearns only for Mandhata to recognise him as his mother, which the latter stubbornly refuses to do; in that he is similar to his grandmother who is a ruthless pragmatist
Near the end of the novel, ‘The Pregnant King’, Shikandi’s daughter, Amba marries Mandhata, a sort of union of two extremes; Amba, born of two women and Mandhata having been born of a man. This ties up the other part of the novel , the part where Mandhata comes to terms with his birth and his two mothers, Yuvanashva who gave birth to him, and Simintini, the first wife of Yuvanashva.
The question arises, for the one who dwells into Indian mythology, why did we change? From a society that is enriched by its varied experiences, giving birth to numerous cultures, we have narrowed our scope—now we have a watered down variant of our legends and gods. Do legends reflect the thinking of the era? If there were queer characters in the stories, did that mean the people of that era accepted them? The gods portrayed in the tales certainly do, boundaries are flexible for them; Shiva is said to be the indifferent one who does not judge by outward appearances, Vishnu whose avatar of Mohini was everything from an enchantress to a dutiful widow, embracing both the masculine and the feminine is seen as the benevolent, beloved god who maintains order. The actions of gods do reflect society. In Greek myths, there was just as much of a gender fluidity, and homosexual love, society was accepting of them; the same could be said for Indian society, that there was space given for such expression of variations from norm.
At present, our system is deeply rooted into categories. From an economic point of view, categories are essential for ruthless efficiency. Male and female, tied to the division of labour. The birth of capitalism, colonialism and colonization - there are many other factors we can blame, yet all they do is hint at the main problem. Categories loom over us as cages, but we remain blind to the bars. The concept of Category Q (for queer), to include all that is marginalised would be a start. In our lives, when the bars around us become unyielding, we should heed to the tiny voice in the back of our
minds, that may wonder, ’Category kyu?’.
- Janki Sampat and Keerthana Nagarajan
There is the universal male and the female, our two main categories in society and in somecountries, the only categories. Anyone, caught in between these two categories has a tough time indeed, thus the word ‘caught’. We do have other terms that have cropped up over the past many decades, categories to accommodate the non-male and the non-female—transgenders, transsexuals, and many others that social media can educate the uneducated on, it has become the de facto educator in this regard. But social media is not real life, and our legal institutions are lagging behind.
The dominant categories of the system are poles apart, leaving individuals to carve out an identity in between these two extremes. The conventional is what we know, that has a place in society and is recognised. The unconventional is everything else, left behind. And that is what the term ‘queer’ stands for, that we take it to stand for—the uncategorised. It’s uncommon and baffles our current system. It would baffle anyone, who have been taught only the simplified version of what constitutes identity.
In our Age, social media has facilitated awareness of various identities. Alternate forms of gender identity are non-binary, in-between the two extremes.The prefix ‘trans’ in Latin means ‘beyond’; transgender would be beyond ‘normal genders’, ones who change their assigned roles in society
while a transsexual would be one who seeks to change their assigned biology, while the transvestite is one who derives pleasure by dressing in clothing associated with the opposite sex.
We know that India is a country, rich in culture and tradition with numerous variations in every sphere of life. But parts that add to this richness seem to have been swept away to the margins of society. Every culture has its history, known to the masses through its legends. Our aim is to explore the marginalised identities present within Indian mythology, and how our culture didn’t shy away from recognising the areas between the two extremes, i.e of masculine and feminine, in the past. The regional and individual variations of every myth shed light upon the all-inclusiveness of Indian myths. Of the inherent acceptance that Indian gods are known for throughout these tales.
We will be looking into a modern Indian myth, The Pregnant King and the identity crisis that befalls our chosen character, King Yuvanashva, through whose struggles, the rigidity of social structures is exposed.
Indian culture still retains fragments of its unconventional zones—from the hijra community to the classical Indian dance forms, to our Gods and their exploits. The Indian myth, ‘The Mahabharata’ has quite a few characters, involved in breaking the norms to achieve their ends, from taking on the role of the opposite sex, to disguising as one or behaving like one even, the Indian epic is filled with such situations. Yet these are blurred, looked over, never given the spotlight.
The modern retelling of Shikhandi’s story by Devdutt Pattanaik in ‘Shikhandi’ presents the varied kind of identities that enriched Indian mythology. Shikhandi is the most common queer character known, because of her role in the Mahabharata, though only her purpose is focused on, to be used as a shield for Arjuna against Bhisma. The role that Shikandi plays is decisive in the Mahabharata, yet it is seen in a negative light. Perhaps over the years, it came to be seen as negative. But modern re-tellings give us a different perspective, shed light upon the marginalised, and upon the unconventional attributes that we all possess but most often never draw upon.
Modern re-tellings like in Pattanaik’s ‘Shikhandi’ and in C. B Divakaruni’s novel ‘The Palace of Illusions’ give us an inside perspective, her backstory. Shikhandi was born a female, raised as a male with the expectations of a male placed on her by a vengeful father. She was married to another woman as well, and it is at this moment when she experiences a crisis, a confrontation of what her body was and what she had been raised to be. Shikhandi would have gone through a gender dysphoria—an emotional distress that comes from feeling conflicted about one’s body. An unfortunate yaksha by the name of Sthunakarna comes to her aid at this point in her life. and gives his genitals to her, thereby making her a man (Sthunakarna is unfortunate, as his generosity earns him the scorn of his King Kubera, and causes him to remain a woman until Shikhandi’s death.)
In ‘the Pregnant King’, there are a great many instances of fluidity, category-wise; the one that works as a catalyst to the plot’s events, when the character of Somvat becomes a woman to be seen as a wife, then there are mentions of Arjuna’s time as a eunuch and his experiences, the god Ila who is worshiped in Yuvanashva’s kingdom, who is also known as Illeshwari (because Shiva’s spell made him into a woman for a time), Krishna who turned into Mohini for Iravan, the Bahugami-priestesses who are men but are not attracted to women. Devdutt Pattnaik is an author who has extensively delved into Indian myths of every region in India and brought to focus the rich and varied representations of queer characters. The gods of India, the mystical circumstances and supernatural elements combine together to weave various narratives that portray queer characters with significant roles.
Yuvanashva is the king, who in need of an heir to officially takeover the ruling of the kingdom from his mother, the capable Queen regent Shilavati, acquires a magic potion that would help his wives to become pregnant by seeking aid from the Siddhas. The Siddhas perform the needed ritual, and then give him a magic potion that is potent enough to ensure an offspring. A grand cow-giving ceremony is held and all newly-wed brahmana couples are given a cow by the queens in exchange for their blessings. Two brahmana boys, Somvat and Sumedha masquerade as a couple so that the latter could gain a cow ( a cow was seen as an essential need for a household). Somvat, out of deep affection for his friend agrees to dress as the wife. They are caught for their deception and thrown into prison cells. It is at this point, that Somvat’s despair causes the yaksha Sthunakarna to appear before him and offer an exchange.
Consider the excerpt: “...I am here to help you. I once had what you had. Gave it to Shikhandi, you see,” (Page 128)
And the yaksha presents convincing arguments to get Somvat to accept his proposal as seen in this excerpt:
“‘Life is any day better than death,’ said Sthunakarna, ‘The body does not matter.’
‘It matters whether you are a man or woman,’ said Somvat. ‘A woman is not free, she has to obey
her father, husband, and son.’
‘What have we here? An intellectual!” Sthunakarna said sarcastically. “No one is free in this world.
Even men are fettered to their lineage.’” (Page 134)
Eventually Somvat agrees, and the yaksha eagerly fulfils the agreement and vanishes. But king Yuvanashva refuses to accept Somvat as a woman, insisting that once born a man, one cannot be a woman. Their pleading of their case fails due Yuvanashva’s adherence to Dharma.
Consider the following excerpt:
“...’Did you enter the temple with a man dressed as a woman or with a woman who was
your wife?’
Sumedha replied, ‘I came in with my soulmate, first wrapped in a woman’s garment and now
wrapped in a woman’s body.’” (Page 155)
Yuvanashva eager to prove himself as a capable rule, and upholder of dharma insists on rules being strictly adhered to.
Excerpt: “ ...Yuvanashva asked Somvat, ‘Why should we treat you as a woman?”
‘Because I have the body of a woman.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Because I feel like a woman.’
‘Was it always so?’
‘No. Yesterday I thought of Sumedha as a friend. Today I feel he is my husband.’’’
Somvat and Sumedha hold firm to their choice to remain a couple and are burned to death for it. Yuvanashva’s first judgement haunts him, literally till the late years of his life. The ghosts of Somvati and Sumedha haunt the king, and trick him into drinking the magic potion instead of water to quench his thirst. Thus, placing him in a situation that would have him experience the blurring of lines.
The stakes of the novel are thus set; Yuvanashva’s belief in the dominant ideology of the prescribed roles in society is clearly displayed in his judgement upon the two boys. As the novel progresses, there is the gradual erosion of this belief, brought about by the king’s own personal experiences,
the emotions that he feels from being a mother comes into conflict with his role as a king after Mandhata is born from his body.
.
When Yuvanashva shoes signs of pregnancy, the royal doctor and his mother, Shilavati keep the matter under wraps, with the latter determined to kill the child.
Excerpt: “ If it is a child, as you say it is, then what will Yuvanashva be after he gives birth to it, that is if he survives the childbirth? A woman? A half-woman? What? Who will accept such a man as a king? It will be the end of his kingship. And that child, a man born of a man. Everybody will consider it a monster...If this child survives, I will have a son and a grandson but Vallabhi will have no king...Kill that thing in my son’s thigh...or I will do it myself.’” (Page 195)
Shilavati’s initial abhorrence for Mandhata gradually weakens, after Yuvanashva’s wives intervene and prevent Shilavati from drowning the baby in a pot of milk.
Excerpt: “‘It’s a baby. For thirteen years the four of us have struggled to have a baby. And now you want to kill it. Have you no heart? What kind of a woman are you?’ asked Simantini
Shilavati strode towards her, ignoring her words, determined to snatch the baby...What would people say? Her son was pregnant with child. She would be the butt of jokes across Ila-vrita. ‘He could not make any women pregnant so he got himself pregnant,’ they would say. She would not
let them. This had to be done.”” (Page 200)
His wives experience mixed emotions from feelings of bafflement to the joy of having a child in their midst after thirteen years. The sense of envy and a lack of purpose only creeps in later when they are made to feel like the barren wives with a husband who had become pregnant. The novel brings in the restrictiveness of roles. The wives are assigned as broodmares, yet do not conceive, Yuvanashva’s role is that of a father, yet he finds it lacking, the capable and intelligent Queen mother can rule only on behalf of her son; the dissatisfaction with their roles stems from its inherent lack. The purpose of their roles is clear, a smooth functioning of society, but the assignment of these roles do not suit the individuals, bringing about the conflicts that have been present throughout our times, yet is often never addressed.
Yuvanashva faces an identity crisis after Mandhata’s birth, that he cannot find an expression for. He gains deep satisfaction in nursing his son, much to the embarrassment of all who witness it and he has to fight to keep his son beside him. The need to be seen as Mandhata’s mother influences his actions from there. The roles of mother or father, the tags attached to these genders by society make it impossible for him to reach a balance. It sheds light on how each category is lacking, an individual is not whole when they strive to remain in just one category.
He is resentful when Simantini, his first wife is acknowledged as the mother of his child, and is alone in his despair with just the two ghosts for company. His mother, his wives, his friend and the royal doctor who were witness to the birth of his son insist on keeping the truth away from public knowledge. At odds with his mother, and his wives, and later on his son, Yuvanashva leaves his kingdom for the forests in anger when Mandhata adamantly refuses to acknowledge him as his mother.
Excerpt: “Mandhata: ‘...I was raised believing that my father was a king, that my mother was his first queen, and that I was his firstborn, his heir. I will not let anything shake this belief.’
‘You yourself said that a man born of a man’s body cannot be king.’
‘That was a riddle. This is my life.’” (Page 293)
Excerpt: Yuvanashva—‘...Don’t forsake a truth because it is convenient...I gave birth to you. I nursed you on these breasts. I held you in my arms and put you to sleep. This is your truth. Accept it like a man. Accept it like a king.’” (Page 293)
The dismissiveness shown by Mandhata for Yuvanasha’s revelation of being his ‘birth mother’ deeply hurts Yuvanashva. Yuvanashva only gains insight, and peace when he leaves the trappings of society and joins the company of sages, where the idea of categories and its lack is highlighted. Our culture is more like a set of guidelines; our categories should be our guidelines. Yuvanashva’s dual role conflict never reaches a balance until he leaves the trappings of society; his mother is a pragmatic woman who knows in their society, a mother cannot be king, and Mandhata later on uses the same logic to state that a son cannot inherit a kingdom through his mother. Yuvanashva through all this logic and rationalism, yearns only for Mandhata to recognise him as his mother, which the latter stubbornly refuses to do; in that he is similar to his grandmother who is a ruthless pragmatist
Near the end of the novel, ‘The Pregnant King’, Shikandi’s daughter, Amba marries Mandhata, a sort of union of two extremes; Amba, born of two women and Mandhata having been born of a man. This ties up the other part of the novel , the part where Mandhata comes to terms with his birth and his two mothers, Yuvanashva who gave birth to him, and Simintini, the first wife of Yuvanashva.
The question arises, for the one who dwells into Indian mythology, why did we change? From a society that is enriched by its varied experiences, giving birth to numerous cultures, we have narrowed our scope—now we have a watered down variant of our legends and gods. Do legends reflect the thinking of the era? If there were queer characters in the stories, did that mean the people of that era accepted them? The gods portrayed in the tales certainly do, boundaries are flexible for them; Shiva is said to be the indifferent one who does not judge by outward appearances, Vishnu whose avatar of Mohini was everything from an enchantress to a dutiful widow, embracing both the masculine and the feminine is seen as the benevolent, beloved god who maintains order. The actions of gods do reflect society. In Greek myths, there was just as much of a gender fluidity, and homosexual love, society was accepting of them; the same could be said for Indian society, that there was space given for such expression of variations from norm.
At present, our system is deeply rooted into categories. From an economic point of view, categories are essential for ruthless efficiency. Male and female, tied to the division of labour. The birth of capitalism, colonialism and colonization - there are many other factors we can blame, yet all they do is hint at the main problem. Categories loom over us as cages, but we remain blind to the bars. The concept of Category Q (for queer), to include all that is marginalised would be a start. In our lives, when the bars around us become unyielding, we should heed to the tiny voice in the back of our
minds, that may wonder, ’Category kyu?’.
- Janki Sampat and Keerthana Nagarajan
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