'Sati' was real. But it was also great propaganda

In 1818 the rani of Travancore confronted a strange problem. A woman called Veeramma, widow of an immigrant soldier, wished to burn herself with his remains. Permission was denied, only for Veeramma to stage a protest.

- MANU S PILLAI

In 1818 the rani of Travancore confronted a strange problem. A woman called Veeramma, widow of an immigrant soldier, wished to burn herself with his remains. Permission was denied, only for Veeramma to stage a protest. But the rani was firm—sati was not recognised in Kerala. On the contrary, custom offered women a different set of options here. The rani's mother, for instance, had "repudiated" her first husband, married a second, and on his death, taken a third. The rani herself, having retired her "deranged" first husband, promptly chose his replacement from seven or eight candidates. The idea of a woman burning for a husband was preposterous not just to the queen but to her people at large.

In Malabar up north when two women wished to burn, similarly, locals "declared themselves against it"; the ladies had to travel to Coimbatore to perform the rite. After all, Kerala's elite non-Brahmin groups were largely matrilineal—and whose widows remarried—while patrilineal Brahmins too had a ban on sati. The practice felt altogether alien on Malayali soil, therefore.