Sita Under The Crescent Moon

by Annie Ali Khan

In present-day Pakistan, in the far corners of Lyari in Karachi, or
Hingol in Balochistan, or Thatta in Sindh, tightly knit groups of women
keep alive the folklore, songs and legends of Sati—their name for
Sita in the Ramayana. The way they sustain the attendant rituals
and practices in a nation state with a fixed idea of what constitutes
citizenship and who gets to be a primary citizen is at the heart of this
book.
In Sita under the Crescent Moon, author Annie Ali Khan travels
with women devotees—those without resources, subject to intense
violence—who, through the bravest and simplest act, that of a
pilgrimage, retrace what they remember of the goddess. Who are
these pilgrims? How did this relationship with Sati start, and why is
she so significant? How do their oral mytho-histories compare to
colonial narratives or mainstream definitions of Sati?
Even while retelling the stories of these pilgrims, Sita under the
Crescent Moon studies how worship has altered the mores of a
land—and how the sacral site, made up of clay and thread and tumble
weed, grants a woman power to fight against her circumstances.

352 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2019

Reviews

[Mahnoor_96 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sita Under the Crescent Moon is a book filled with immense love and immense sorrow. I am not the same person after reading this book. It is a lyrical chronicle of pain, hope, and faith. Every page of this book is a battle against erasure. Every section tells you the story of sorrow that women live through. Every section is also full of faith. Faith in miracles that come through to save those who the world has rejected. This book tells the story of shrines, of women, of belief-with love. It makes your heart ache with love for rituals that are continuously deemed kafiraana, illogical, and biddat in the country of the "pure". It narrates miracles with such conviction that, if you read with an open heart, you have no choice but to believe in them. Bird water that cures speech, a surgeon saint who embraces a woman shunned treatment and operates on her in a dream, leaving behind real blood. This book is a window to a world we do not remember. It is a window to these shrines of hope existing against odds. Read it to hear these stories that will change you.

[Abhishek · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book flows. A poetic narration. At places Arundhati Roy's literary style lingers. This book is an incredible work, finding which nobody wanted to find and bringing forth a perspective, a narrative that no one cared or knew that it even existed. But all these innovation and nuanced idea is equally refreshing to read. It is not made heavy by the cramming up the data or information. It flows.

[Anubhav · Rating 4 out of 5]

Page by page, the writing gets more lyrical, and if possible, even more empathetic.

'It drew women as a place of respite, away from everywhere else they were spoken to, to a place that spoke to them'.

[Komal Hashmi · Rating 3 out of 5]

While the subject matter was so intense, raw, emotional and gripping, the writing style could have been better but I totally understand the reason might be the untimely/early passing away of the author.

This book is truly one of its kind and offers such deep insight into the history of pilgrimages, the numerous shrines, the whole concept of being a sati in this patriarchal society and how the satiyan are revered after their sacrifices.

It also offers a critical insight of the brutal poverty faced by the common people, with their strong beliefs in miracles happening via these pious entities and through other spiritual healing methods.

It is an inherently sad book. The whole ordeal explained is this book is definitely a journey of courage and bravery but also something that makes your heart cry.