
An anguished search for a stable identity lies at the heart of this fabulous tale. Devdutt Pattanaik breathes new life into a fantastical old tale – that of a king who is both father and mother, that echoes so many contemporary concerns

Desire is the greatest threat to Dharma.
What happens when a mythologist writes a novel? Well, he weaves a tale that is at once fantastical and gripping but does much more than merely tell a story. “The Pregnant King” by Devdutt Pattanaik was published by Penguin India in 2008. It tells us the little-known story of Yuvanashva, which, the author informs us, has been retold twice in the Mahabharata and in several Puranas. Clearly, the tale is old even by the time of Mahabharata. And by all accounts it is a fantastical tale – a King who begets his own heir, from his own body. Biologically impossible by all known parameters of science. And yet, the story persists. And centuries after its last retelling in the Puranas, is retold once again by Devdutt Pattanaik in the 21st century. Devdutt Pattanaik, a trained medical doctor, describes himself as “Mythologist | Author | Speaker | Illustrator”.
“’I am not sure that I am a man,’ said Yuvanashva. ‘I have created life outside me as men do. But I have also created life inside me, as women do. What does that make me?’”
This anguished search for a stable identity lies at the heart of this fabulous tale. Devdutt brings the story to vivid life, with lushly imagined details that take us to the court of Vallabhi, where for thirteen years King Yuvanashva and his three wives pray desperately to the presiding deity of their kingdom – Illeshwara, for a son. And then, it is the King who gives birth to his son and heir – Mandhata. So, Yuvanashva is both father and mother. But he is also the King, whose conduct and decisions guide, decide and uphold the moral and social order of the kingdom of Vallabhi. And therein lies the dilemma. Because while Prakriti or Nature is infinite and filled with endless, unimaginable possibilities, Society and Dharma have definitions and boundaries, that contain and control and thus create civilisation.
Through a vivid cast of characters Devdutt brings to life the paradoxes and dualities between which the individual is constrained and the deeply personal quest for personal identity. Social order demands the upholding of Dharma and Duty. Individual desires often run counter to that order and if unrestrained threaten the collective order that underpins society and civilisation. And so, the tale oscillates between that which Dharma demands and that which is desired. Shilavati has the mind of a king but is constrained by her gender. Yuvanashva is a born a king but cannot wield his kingly authority because he is yet to fulfil his duty to his ancestors and to social order by begetting his son and heir.
In “The Pregnant King” the boundaries and identities of the Self are never clear. They spill over, they are obfuscated; there is perpetual tension between who one needs to be and who one desires to be. Each character seems to pose his own question. Is Somvat still a man even after he surrenders his masculinity? Is Amba Shikhandi’s daughter or is her father the Yaksha who gave his manhood to Shikhandi? From the origin myth of goddess Bahugami to the identity of Illeshwara; from the obscure riddle of Bhangashvana to Arjun’s year in exile as eunuch dance teacher; from the bride of Iravan to the role of Shikhandi, each identity – assumed, desired or bestowed seems to be illuminating different facets of Yuvanashva’s anguished question.
Despite being the story of a king from thousands of years ago, “The Pregnant King” is also a beautifully told myth for our time. In Devdutt’s words, “Myths are not merely falsehoods; they offer profound insights into the collective psyche of societies. They provide answers to existential question, create shared identities, and offer moral frameworks.” Thus, myths on the one hand serve to illuminate truths or offer a profound insight or even convey a lesson or a moral point. On the other hand, the myths themselves are fluid and shapeshifting. Each storyteller shapes the myth to serve the need of his society and time. When Devdutt takes up the story of Yuvanashva, he does so by shifting things around. In his author’s note he states, “Typically the tale belongs to an earlier era, pre-dating the battle at Kuru-kshetra by many generations. Not so in my books. This book is a deliberate distortion of tales on the epics, History has been folded, geography crumpled. Here, Yuvanashva is a contemporary of the Pandavas who engages Arjuna in a dialogue. There are new characters like Yuvanashva’s mother, Mandhata’s brother and Shikhandi’s daughter.”

In “The Pregnant King” the boundaries and identities are never clear. They spill over, they are obfuscated; there is perpetual tension between who one needs to be and who one desires to be. Each character seems to pose his own question.
And so, the meaning that each reader finds in this myth, the lesson that the reader learns, the truth that a reader sees is always changing, always adapting. In Devdutt’s retelling of this age-old story there are echoes of contemporary dilemmas in the dilemmas faced by the novel’s cast of character. Ultimately, each reader will take from this myth the truth that makes the most sense to them. For many that will be the questions about identity and gender. For others it will be the constant push and pull between what an individual owes to society as a member and their own personal desire. The different meanings and needs are beautifully encapsulated in a description of the difference between the points of view of Vishnu and Shiva with regards to Lakshmi and her sister Alakshmi. A myth within a myth, it is shared as one of the riddles the sixty-four Yoginis posed to King Bharata. “There are no correct answers. There are only appropriate answers. And it all depends upon one’s point of view. If I were Shiva, it would not matter who walked towards me and who walked away from me. Shiva is a hermit, indifferent to peace, prosperity, strife and poverty. Vishnu, however, is a guardian of society. A householder’s god. For him Lakshmi matters. She makes the world bountiful and joyful. Alakshmi, he shuns… (similarly) Masculinity and femininity did not matter to Shiva. But mattered to Vishnu.”
“The Pregnant King” is a worthy addition to the subcontinent’s unbroken tradition of storytelling that combines the fantastical with the profound, that is richly imagined but grounded in a traditional philosophical debate, that explores the boundaries between what is due to society and Dharma and that which is desired; in short, it is a truly rewarding myth for our times told by a masterful storyteller.