Siri the Healing Mother: Relational Dynamics Between Mother and Child in a Matrilineal Society

Introduction

Possession cults are very common as healing traditions in South India, where various forms of female deities, such as Kali, Jogathi and Devi, occupy a central role (Varghese et al., 2011). The Siri cult is one such indigenous ritual practice rooted in South Canara, Karnataka, that provides a unique healing space for women through the oral tradition of the Siri epic. The Siri epic unfolds over 15,683 lines and recounts the story of Siri and her lineage spanning three generations, which are chanted in the ritualistic space (Honko, 1998). The narrative of Siri recalls the oppression and struggles women face in matrilineal society, and the power and agency of women to overcome those challenges. The Siri narrative captures the tragedies of Siri’s life, including rejection, betrayal and economic deprivation, but it also highlights her quest for her agency and identity. Siri emerges as a divine symbol of femininity who, despite living in a male-centred and oppressive society, refuses to conform to expectations of submissiveness and silence. Instead, she channels her emotion, wrath, desires and suffering to challenge societal norms, creating a counter-narrative to the idealised image of the ‘good woman’.

Within the ritual space, Siri holds profound symbolic significance as a divine figure, offering a medium for emotional and psychological healing. The connection between ritual performance and emotional processing has been established by anthropologists and psychologists (Carrin, 2011). Moreover, the presence of a divine symbol, even though not a necessity, as pointed out by Kakar (2011), can serve as a catalyst for spiritual transformation.

The rituals, often conducted during long-night performances, facilitate a trance-like state in which women embody the characters of Siri and enact the narrative as it unfolds. This collective ritual performance fosters communal solidarity, where women’s embodied desires, anxieties and struggles are not only acknowledged but also actively legitimised. By identifying with Siri, the participants symbolically process their personal tragedies and societal oppression, transforming their repressed emotions into a source of strength. In this transient ritual space, women temporarily reconstruct their identities, achieving a sense of divine empowerment and overcoming the vulnerabilities they often experience in their everyday lives.

This article seeks to address integral questions surrounding the healing processes within the Siri ritual space: What leads to healing in this performative space? What happens to the women’s bodies in the state of trance? How does this space facilitate transformation in their psychic world? Using a psychodynamic approach, particularly through the framework of object relations theory, the article explores the relational dynamics of mother and child in a matrilineal context. It examines how the ritual space externalises repressed emotions and anxieties, allowing women to symbolically renegotiate their internal conflicts and achieve psychic integration. By situating the Siri cult within its cultural and matrilineal context, this article highlights how indigenous healing practices offer unique insights into women’s psychic transformation, emotional processing and the reconstruction of identity.

Narrative of the Siri Cult

Siri’s story begins with her divine birth in a matrilineal society to preserve the lineage of Ajjeru. Siri was born to Ajjeru, the landlord of Satyanapura, who was struggling with the anxiety of his lineage coming to an end due to the lack of a successor. While he was grieving his suffering and praying for a progeny, his tears rolled down the Lookanadu temple and touched the feet of the deity Nagabrahma. Hearing Ajjeru’s plea, the deity visits him and instructs him to revitalise the ruined shrines of Lookanadu and offer a flower bud from the areca tree to please him, in exchange for the promise to heal him of all his woes. Moreover, with that promise, Ajjeru was granted a female child, Siri, who was born from the areca blossom, marking her divine birth in the kingdom of Satyanapura. Her fate was sealed to continue the lineage of Ajjeru, and she was married to Kantha Alva at the tender age of just 5 years. In her marriage, she experienced betrayal by her husband, who cheated on her with a prostitute.

When she was pregnant with her son, Kumara, she was abandoned by her husband, who shunned his responsibility towards her and the child. She birthed her son in Satyanapura, Ajjeru’s place, but soon lost Ajjeru to death when he saw Kumara’s face, as stated in the prophecy. Even with the grief of losing her father and being abandoned by her husband, she contested her right to the estate of Satyanapura. However, she was cheated by society itself and was asked to compromise. She was asked to take on the role of administrator by society and to be a submissive and obedient wife by her husband and his mother, and only then would she be allowed to stay. Siri, filled with wrath, burned down the city of Satyanapura, divorced her husband, and kept moving with grief and rage in her eyes. While travelling with her son, Kumara foresees her future of being married twice and requests her to disappear him into Maya, as he refuses to be called by another father’s name. At that moment, Siri pushed him down to the earth with her feet and turned him into Maya. Soon, Kumara’s prophecy came true, and she remarried Sammu, who had a wife and was quite violent towards her. Her next generation continued with the birth of her daughter Sonne, and with her birth, Siri turned herself into Maya. Sonne got married and gave birth to twin daughters, Abbaga and Daraga. However, Siri’s lineage ended with the death of Abbaga and Daraga, as God’s punishment to Sonne and her husband for failing to fulfil their promise to him. God instigated a fight between Abbaga and Daraga while playing the game of Cene Mane, where Abbaga killed Daraga by striking her with the wooden board and then killing herself by jumping into the well (Carrin, 2001; Honko, 1998).

Cultural Narrative Around Divine Femininity and Its Implications for Women’s Identity

In India’s cultural and religious landscape, divine femininity is characterised by two contrasting themes that speak of the ‘ambivalence’ around the cultural narrative of divine femininity. The ambivalence is portrayed in the contrasting roles—either as the ideal, nurturing mother or as a dangerous, uncontrollable woman unfamiliar with traditional feminine restraint (Guzder & Krishna, 2008) but also in their representations. According to Ganesh (1990), the representation of the goddess embodies ‘ambivalence’. On one side, she is a compassionate consort offering solace to people, while on the other, she appears bedecked with jewellery or a garland of skulls, and at times, she is depicted as a nude deity. This ambivalence is explained in the context of cultural attempts to control women’s sexuality. While goddesses like ‘Sita’ or ‘Lakshmi’, whose identities are merged within the identity of their male partner, bound by the institution of marriage, are associated with the symbol of ‘auspicious women’, they culturally depict the power of femininity that is benevolent and unthreatening. In contrast lies the symbolic depiction of Kali (Gombrich & Obeyesekere, 1988) as the other side of divine femininity, but her power and sexuality are culturally evaluated as dangerous, threatening and disruptive (Ganesh, 1990).

While ambivalence has been observed and discussed within the symbolic and cultural depiction of femininity, ‘motherhood’ remains a constant theme central to the idea of ‘divine femininity’. Within that theme also exist categories of a ‘bad mother’ and ‘good mother’, as discussed consistently across the literature. Such diametrically opposite cultural and symbolic constructions of divine femininity are important to discuss, as they pose ramifications on women’s psyche, their sense of identity and sexuality (Christ, 1978). The moral categorisation of divine femininity into ‘bad mother’ and ‘good mother’ also sets the tone and expectations about women’s sense of identity and roles, especially within the context of a patriarchal structure, where women’s power is seen as inferior and their carnal desires are denigrated (Ganesh, 1990). Such ambivalence can also be utilised for the development of an alternative narrative that embraces every aspect of divine femininity—from its motherhood to sexuality—rendering space for transformation and evolving identities of womanhood. Christ (1978), in his exploration of the transformative power of divine femininity for women embedded within patriarchal structures, discusses three interconnected aspects of divinity: the maiden, the mother and the crone. These aspects highlight the evolution of female identity throughout the lifespan, connecting women with their bodies and sexuality, and linking them to their creative, nurturing power and wisdom, which foster empowerment and transformation.

Here, the significance of Siri as the symbol of divine femininity is discussed, along with how it can create a transformative, empowering space for the evolving identities of women stunted under the burdens of their male-defined identity. The story of Siri takes birth in Tulunadu, a matrilineal society where the lineage is passed down through the maternal family. This societal structure, which gives the illusion of women’s empowerment while the power very much resides in the hands of their counterparts, is a stark example of societal hypocrisy. The birth of Siri was the outcome of divine intervention, and society pre-decided Siri’s purpose: to heal her father of his sadness and preserve the lineage of Ajjeru, the landlord of Satyanapura. Her journey symbolises the constant quest for her identity, filled with wrath, anger and refusal to be silenced. With every choice she makes, she refuses to be defined by the androcentric narrative that chains her identity to a ‘good woman’. She refuses to submit to her husband’s betrayal, to society’s betrayal, and, in doing so, chooses to be defined by society as a ‘bottomless virago’ (Honko, 1998). Even though she is punished and faces disparagement for her choices, she continues to choose herself and recreate her identity that surpasses the limitation of societal categorisation of women’s identity as ‘bad’ or ‘good’. Embracing her sexuality and her desire to remarry over her son can be referenced as her quest to challenge the cultural idea of ‘motherhood’ that deprives women of acknowledging their desires. In doing so, her journey highlights her quest to overcome the ‘ambivalence’ within the cultural narrative of divine femininity. However, her choices throughout her life journey provide a platform to transcend ambivalence, leading to a strong affirmation of her identity as a woman.

Who Is This Mother? Mother and Child Relationship Through Object Relations

Scholars such as Claus (1975), Carrin (2001) and Honko (1998) have emphasised the deep and affectionate relationship between Siri and her son Kumara in the story. The Siri narrative also delves into the developing bond between mother and child, especially in relation to the child’s formation of object relations with the mother as the primary love object.

One of Siri’s sub-epics recounts her journey through the Boola Plateau forest with her son Kumara and her companion Daaru, following her divorce from her husband. Scorching under the midday heat, Kumara’s cries intensify alongside his growing restlessness. To pacify him, Siri sends Daaru to a nearby mansion to fetch milk. While Daaru obtains milk for Kumara, she returns without any means to feed him. Siri attempts to feed Kumara using a paddy stalk, but her efforts prove futile as Kumara becomes increasingly agitated. Desperate to comfort her son, Siri finally offers him her breast. Kumara suckles so intensely that blood begins to ooze from her breasts. As Siri nears unconsciousness, she laments her suffering and pleads with Kumara to speak. He speaks about his decision to leave Siri, as he is not okay with the future. He foresees Siri getting remarried and refuses to be called by another father’s family name. Kumara asks Siri to transform him into a vanishing form (Maya). Although hesitant initially, Siri eventually agrees to Kumara’s request after he foretells that she will encounter two kings and marry the third man she meets. He also agreed to meet her in a certain forest during the pregnancy. She fulfilled his wish by pushing him into the earth with her toe, transforming him into Maya (Honko, 1998).

This sub-epic centres on the dynamic relationship between mother and child within the cultural context of Tulunadu. Klein’s (1964) concept of part objects and object relations provides a valuable framework for understanding Kumara’s internalised image of his mother. According to Klein, objects are typically internalised representations of one’s mother or caregivers. These mental images and their associated experiences form the foundation of a child’s psychological development, influencing their later stages of life. Klein (1946) also put forward the idea of a paranoid–schizoid position, characterised by the part-object relationship. She notes that the splitting of the object as good breast and bad breast is also the representation of the unintegrated and illusionary experience of the self.

The sub-narrative between Siri and Kumara reflects destructive fantasies dominated by oral aggression towards the imagined ‘bad’ breast. Kumara’s hunger-driven search for food, restlessness, and the violent sucking of his mother’s breast to the point of her near unconsciousness can be associated with an expression of his intense need to destroy the ‘bad’ breast that he perceives as unavailable to him. This can also be understood as a cultural imagination of treating the ‘bad mother’, who is perpetually in conflict with the male-dominated world and unavailable to fully satisfy the needs of men. These excrements and bad parts of the self are meant not only to injure the object but also to control and take possession of it. This particular segment of the Siri narrative follows her struggle for the right to her father’s property and her divorce from her husband, reflecting her challenge to male authority. After this incident, the previously silent Kumara begins to speak, expressing his disapproval of Siri’s decision to follow her desires and life choices. He also reflects on his father’s legacy. Kumara symbolises the complex matrilineal structure of Tulunadu, where the family lineage is passed down through women, yet it remains subtly controlled by men. In the narrative, he requested Siri to make him in a vanishing state (Maya), which shows Kumara struggles to contain Siri as a woman with her own desires and identity, which reflects the paranoid–schizoid position in Kumara. This position represents the unintegrated and immature ego of the broader male dominance, unable to fully accept a woman asserting her autonomy and individuality. The ‘split’ of the ‘bad mother’ itself represents a cultural mechanism used to punish a woman’s autonomy, subjecting her to suffering throughout her life. This cultural construct serves as a mechanism to suppress her desires and needs for self-expression.

Body as a Transient Space

The Siri paddana is one of the ritualistic practices central to the cultural identity of Tulunadu, where women participate in the long-night ceremony in the hopes of getting healed of their woes. During the ritualistic performance, the oral narrative of Siri paddana is performed by the Kumara, and the women are guided into a trance-like state, where they are possessed by different spirits of Siri and are transformed into different characters of the Siri narrative. A strong identification with Siri takes place during the ritualistic performance, which leads the women’s bodies into a trance-like state.

As the story progresses, it reveals the tragedies that the lineage of Siri has to face across three generations: the grief of losing a father, the anger towards her husband’s betrayal, the wrath of economic deprivation and being cheated by society, and jealousy and envy. Siri embodies her emotions: she ‘jumps in anger’ at her husband’s betrayal, speaks about her right to the throne of Satyanapura, burns down the place of Satyanapura with her wrath, and keeps on moving even though she is asked to go quietly (Honko, 1998). These are the emotions and anxieties women ordinarily face that remain inaccessible to embodiment, as they are rejected and suppressed in a male-dominated sociocultural context. In the transient space where women enter into the mythical reality, they can enact the imaginative character of Siri through the progression of the Siri epic and embody their suppressed emotions. Shetty (2013) highlighted that the transient space that the body enters, facilitated by the ritualistic space, creates a protective podium where women can openly articulate their anger, frustrations, unmet desires, and tensions arising from family dynamics, caste and class conflicts, societal norms, regulations, and sexual dissatisfactions—emotions they might otherwise suppress in their daily lives. The concept of projective identification, explained by Klein (1946), can be applied to further interpret the performative space of Siri paddana.

Projective identification, a psychological process that allows individuals to project their anxieties, insecurities, and repressed parts onto an external object, is central to the process that leads women’s inner world to be ‘in one with Siri’. The unconscious process of projective identification provides women with a safe psychological distance from their anxieties and allows them to internalise their projected anxieties in an altered divine form. This process serves as a psychological change that allows identification with the suppressed anxieties through projection to the external object and creates a sense of being understood by ‘being at one’ with the external object (Klein, 1946; Ogden, 1979). Through the process of projective identification and introjection (Cariola, 2020), women’s bodies enter into a trance-like state where they are permitted to experience a cathartic emotional release. In the ritualistic space itself, there are a lot of elements present that facilitate the transition to a mythical reality that is expressed as an embodied enactment of the characters from the Siri epic. Siri, for these women, symbolises a divine power that is part of their daily life repertoire, and the possession itself is believed to be sacred (Claus, 1975). Women come together in communal solidarity and enter the transient state where they are permitted to express themselves with all their repressed traumas, anxieties and desires that offer normalisation of their anxieties. The emotions that remain repressed in their sociocultural context are met with active facilitation by Kumara, and their bodily expression is actively encouraged and accepted by family members (Bourguignon, 2004). All these elements present in the ritualistic space allow for the process of positive introjection, a psychological process that allows individuals to internalise their projected anxieties in an altered divine form, allowing the body to experience a sense of power in the embodiment of the emotions.

Healing Through Integration

The women who participate in the Siri paddana undergo a state of possession, where the repressed desires and anxieties are embodied and expressed in the performative space, allowing movement from the unconscious to the conscious. But how that movement is facilitated and what its implications are for the women are central points that require elaboration. The performative space in which the transition from repression to expression takes place is marked by the ritualistic chanting of the Siri epic, where the progression of the ritual unfolds the narrative of Siri (Shetty, 2013). The symbolic language of the narrative captures women’s experiences in their own oppressive sociocultural contexts and offers them a chance to enter a transient space where the repressed realm and anxieties around their sexuality, power and marriage are embodied (Bourguignon, 2004). Musical stimulation has been documented to induce a trance-like state in participants, especially as the music becomes more rhythmic, louder and repetitive (Becker, 1994; Jackson, 1968; Jankowsky, 2007). According to Becker (2000), this transition is facilitated by the activation of the ‘listening self’, a state of being more open to entering a trance-like experience. The listening self allows individuals to immerse themselves in the imaginary world of a character, enabling them to embody its emotions, movements and identity. In this state, the individual becomes deeply engaged with the narrative conveyed through the musical chant, allowing the body and self to align with the story’s emotional and symbolic elements.

The cultural rituals of spirit possession share the characteristic of a culturally conveyed narrative that allows the participants to enact the particular narrative of that character (Becker, 2000), and, through that enactment, experience intense emotions and forge new identities that are different from their socially sanctioned identities (Calvillo, 2017). The mechanism of dissociation, surrendering, and identification is central to this process that ‘offers women an acceptable, and consciously deniable, way to express unconscious, forbidden thoughts and feelings, particularly in situations of social subordination’ (Bourguignon, 2004).

The reunion of Kumara with Siri in the Ylikunja forest following the birth of her second child holds importance in the performative narrative. After the child’s birth, Kumara purifies his mother, Siri, with nectar, takes her hand, and together they transcend into a state of vanishing existence, or Maya (Honko, 1998). Within the larger Siri ritual, women associated with Siri acknowledge belonging to a non-biological family led by Kumara. Members of this Siri family pledge mutual support and solidarity, particularly during challenging times. The narrative of Siri and Kumara’s reunion serves as a crucial foundation for the formation of the Siri family, which exists beyond the boundaries of the biological family.

In the performative space of Siri paddana, each Siri group, led by Kumara, ritualistically recites the story of Siri, embodying its narrative through song and performance. This is the remembrance of this reunion. This reunion can also be interpreted as the integration of Kumara’s illusory, immature, omnipotent ego state into a more mature state, where he perceives his mother as a whole object rather than a fragmented one. This transformation signifies a profound shift in object relationships, moving away from the earlier phase of splitting and towards a more unified and balanced perception of the mother as a whole entity. Reparation becomes the central process for integration, where the ‘bad parts’ are being actively facilitated and accepted rather than persecuted. Through Kumara, the fragmented male ego of society is achieving more of a depressive position, as described by Klein (1946). According to Klein, the depressive position is the developmental stage of the child where guilt, mourning and the desire for reparation are the major characteristics.

Klein emphasises that the depressive position, central to psychological development, arises from the guilt associated with destructive fantasies towards the primary love object, typically the mother. This guilt, intertwined with survival anxiety, stems from the child’s recognition of their dependence on the mother, who becomes a fragmented object of both love and hate (Klein, 1935). Reparation, in Klein’s theory, allows for the integration of these ambivalent feelings and supports healthy ego development. The Siri paddana provides a ritualistic and performative space where women’s ‘bad parts’ and anxieties—typically marginalised or punished in everyday life—are embodied and actively facilitated by Kumara, a central figure in the narrative. Kumara symbolically represents the male child ego, while the family members and community in the ritual signify the broader societal structures that bear the guilt of persecuting the ‘love object’—the woman—whom they simultaneously depend on for nurturance, love and survival. This dynamic can be understood as a collective enactment of reparation.

In the context of the Siri ritual, the performative space symbolically represents society’s desire for reparation for its historical and ongoing oppression of women. The projection of women’s ‘bad parts’ onto an external, ritualised space allows for their transformation into symbols of divinity. This divine reconfiguration enables women to reintegrate these disowned parts into their psychic world, not as negative or shameful traits but as powerful and nurturing qualities. Thus, what is mourned in Klein’s theory—the fragmentation and loss of the love object—becomes celebrated in the Siri ritual, enabling a transformative process of healing and empowerment.

Conclusion

The Siri Jatre is an annual indigenous healing ritual practised in South Kanara, where Siri serves as a divine symbol to heal women grappling with repressed anxieties and desires in a male-dominated society. Within this ritual space, women’s embodiment of their emotions and anxieties is actively facilitated and projected onto an external ritual space, where these feelings are acknowledged and celebrated as divine by society, including the male collective. This societal acceptance reflects a collective reparation, wherein those traditionally shamed or repressed are embraced and celebrated as powerful and divine. As women embody Siri and enact her life’s tragedies, they symbolically integrate these repressed aspects of themselves in divine, altered form, leading to psychic healing and transformation.