Position and Existence of Women in Mahabharata : Context Gandhari/ মহাভারতে নারীর অবস্থান ও অস্তিত্ব : প্রসঙ্গ গান্ধারী

Abstract

The Mahabharata, as a colossal and timeless Indian epic, intricately weaves philosophical, social, and ethical narratives, where women are not only present as symbolic figures but also as central forces of transformation and resistance. This essay focuses on Gandhari, a prominent yet often overshadowed character, to explore the nuanced portrayal of women’s position and existential agency within the epic’s deeply patriarchal framework.

Gandhari, the daughter of King Subala of Gandhara, marries the blind prince Dhritarashtra and chooses to blindfold herself permanently— a decision that, while celebrated as an act of supreme marital devotion (pativrata), is critically analyzed in this essay as a profound gesture of self-effacement imposed by societal expectations. Her silence in moments of moral crisis—such as Draupadi’s disrobing and the unjust game of dice— serves as a testament to the normalized suppression of female voices in epic literature.

The essay reveals how Gandhari’s identity as wife, mother, and queen is continuously shaped and constrained by external forces—her husband’s blindness (literal and moral), her son Duryodhana’s unchecked ambition, and a royal court that renders her voiceless. Despite being conscious of dharma, Gandhari is repeatedly sidelined by the very men she remains loyal to. Her emotional and ethical protests—particularly toward the end of the Sabha Parva—emerge as too late and too subdued within the greater machinery of fate and male dominance.

Gandhari’s motherhood is portrayed as both sacred and sorrowful. The birth of a lump of flesh after two years of pregnancy, followed by the creation of one hundred sons, is examined here as a symbolic embodiment of emotional void and unfulfilled desires. Her maternal grief culminates in helplessness during the fall of her lineage.

By drawing from Vyasa’s epic, Bengali literary critiques, and modern feminist interpretations, the essay argues that Gandhari is less a passive figure and more a tragic archetype—bound by duty, stripped of agency, and yet harboring deep moral insight. Her character reflects the paradox of being revered and yet unheard, illustrating how epic narratives glorify female sacrifice while silencing their struggles. Gandhari’s journey compels a re-evaluation of how mythology encodes—and often confines—women’s roles in history and collective memory.