Exploring the Demonization of non-conformist Women
A core memory in my childhood was dipping biscuits into chai while I watched Thakumar Jhuli cartoons, also known as Grandmother’s Bag of Stories. The most terrifying episode featured Shakchunni, a formidable figure in Bengali folklore. Shakchunni sent shivers down my spine as she laughed maniacally and rotated her head 360 degrees. Her shrill voice gave me goosebumps as she divulged her plan to kidnap and take the place of a Brahmin man's wife. The episode is just as terrifying to rewatch as an adult, except now I was filled with questions. Why was her primary motive to be married? Why are her feet backwards? And who in society does Shakchunni represent? The answer I got from Google was that in her past life, she was an unsatisfied woman because she passed without getting married. This answer felt incomplete so I spent lots of time digging for answers. As I continued to explore her lore, it became clear to me that painting this entity as merely a jealous and lustful demon does us all a disservice.The Thakumar Jhuli cartoon sends subtle messages to young kids to conform to a specific set of ideals with political undertones that I did not catch until I was much older. For example, the specification by Shakchunni that she wished to live as the wife of a Brahmin man to live a happy, fulfilling life. This implies that Shakchunni was of a lower-caste in her past life and this fulfilment was not offered to her then. Women and young girls are consistently put under a microscope to determine their marriageability– their entire identities tied to whether or not they will earn good husbands. Those who do not conform to these ideals are demonized.
Shakchunni has several names across South Asia: chudail, churrel, pichal peri,etc. What is consistent are her backwards feet, a relentless pursuit of retribution, and her hypersexualization. It turns out that in her past life, her ‘dissatisfaction’ did not only come from her unmarried status. Her untimely death could be caused by the abuse she endured at the hands of a man, whether it be a husband or a family member. Her feet stand as potent symbols of her torment, shattered and contorted, rendering escape futile. She comes back as a vengeful spirit living in a showra gaach, or a sandpaper tree, as she waits for her next victim to pass by. This shapeshifter takes on the image of a beautiful woman to seduce lecherous men but in her true form she is clad in a revealing sari, her complexion is a sickly green, and her unruly mane has been compared to pubic hair – she is so hideous that it makes your blood turn cold. Similarly to Medusa, if she beckons a man to look upon her, his doom is sealed, although he can secure his escape by steadfastly walking away and never glancing back. Shakchunni serves as a warning to men to lower their gaze, and a warning to women to comply, so as not to turn into her.
There is a deep-rooted layer of misogyny in many folklore and cultural narratives of succubi which often shifts the blame onto women. Shakchunni’s narrative focuses particularly on unmarried women who are sexually liberated or independent. This narrative effectively diverts attention away from male responsibility and perpetuates harmful stereotypes about women who are perceivably defiant. Take, for instance, the Thakurmar Jhuli cartoon, where the married woman gets possessed after letting her hair down instead of keeping it in a bun, defying the dictates of her mother-in-law. The way a woman wears her hair is extremely significant in Bangladeshi culture. Letting one's hair out sends a message that they are loose and trying to be seductive, whereas if her hair is tied up or braided she is well kempt and is presenting herself modestly. This storyline reflects the societal standard imposed on married and marriage-seeking women to adhere to a specific mold of behavior and appearance. In contrast, Shakchunni has coarse flowing hair; Shakchunni ultimately captures the woman by her hair, a terrifying image and message to send to young viewers. Such narratives inadvertently contribute to victim-blaming, suggesting that women who are abused or sexually violated somehow earned such treatment. Now for the PG-13 version of the story we don’t see in Thakumar Jhuli. What does Shakchunni actually do with her victims? After seducing a lecherous man who wanders near her bush - I mean tree - she will drain his vitality through sexual encounters. If fortune favors the man, he may survive, albeit as a withered old man upon returning to the village. Thus, Shakchunni gets her retribution and she probably saves other women from facing violence from the men she traps. As feminist as this appears, it is crucial to note that women's sexual liberation and bodily autonomy is still not widely celebrated. It was thought that only lower-caste women can become Shakchunnis if they died an unnatural death, which highlights the insidious influence of Brahmanical patriarchy within this folklore. The Breast Tax, also known as mulakkaram, casts a dark shadow on this narrative. It was an oppressive head tax imposed by the Kingdom of Travancore (modern day Kerala) on lower-caste women who covered their upper bodies. At the tender age of fourteen, girls were coerced into paying this tax, and non-compliance resulted in brutal punishments, including public beatings with hot iron rods. Perhaps performing sexual acts with men until their death is part of Shakchunni’s revenge.
During pre-colonial times, witches in Assam held respected roles in communities. Primarily, they held roles as healers and custodians of indigenous power approached them to address various social issues, including the treatment of epidemics. These healers were not specific to any gender, however the introduction of British Victorian gender norms began to cast feminine power as dangerous and uncontrollable. The European Church's beliefs that empowered women were seen as potentially possessed by evil spirits aligned with upper-caste Hindu notions of the destructive powers of goddess Kali. In the Thakumar Jhuli cartoon we see that Shakchunni has powers that help her to perform her duties as a wife efficiently along with the kidnapping and what not. In contrast, the scary male sorcerer who drinks blood as soon as his character is introduced is supposedly the hero in the story. These two depictions show how differently the genders are portrayed when they have powers. Socio-economic factors also played a significant role in the villainisation of witches. Land, a key factor of production in indigenous and rural communities, was primarily passed down to male heirs, leaving widows without property rights. As the British imposed their power and seized land from upper-caste men, conflicts over property rights fueled insecurities in village communities. Witch hunts targeted widowed women with properties, who were accused of witchcraft to strip them of their land. Thus further marginalising women who dared to appear independent of men.
As a Bangladeshi, the concept of having my worth tied to a man was one part of my culture that had never aligned with me. At the age of twelve, I made a bold declaration to my family: I would not be living to get married. My proclamation was driven by my growing annoyance of hearing my grandmother's persistent coaxing, urging me to learn specific chores, all in preparation for a future husband I hadn't even met. In a culture where young girls are relentlessly conditioned to live under the constant scrutiny of their marriageability, I wanted no part of it.
It's fascinating to realise that my defiance makes me similar to Shakchunni, a figure of folklore often associated with transgressing societal norms. The stories we pass down through generations shape our perceptions of each other, and the weight of our unacknowledged collective pain matters deeply. My journey may not involve supernatural transformation, but it is a transformation of the mind and spirit, a commitment to challenging oppressive traditions, and a resolute stride toward unveiling patriarchal lies.
Nova A.
Born and raised in NYC, Nova is a multi-hyphenate who has combined their love of intersectional stories with their passion to uplift them at Womxn in Windows. They are the social media manager and strategist. Outside of WxW, they are a model and actor. Currently they are working on their screenplay.
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