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Published January 24, 2024

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  • Poemhood by Amber McBride, Erica Martin, Taylor Byas (rated 5/5)

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Extras
  • Blog:
    Imagining Life on Mars: A Reading List
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    T E H N Clothes
The Bandit Queens
The Bandit Queens
A Novel
by Parini Shroff

Paperback (9 Jan 2024), 368 pages.
Publisher: Ballantine Books
ISBN-13: 9780593498972
Genres
BookBrowse:
Critics:
Readers:
  

A young Indian woman finds the false rumors that she killed her husband surprisingly useful—until other women in the village start asking for her help getting rid of their own husbands—in this razor-sharp debut.

Five years ago, Geeta lost her no-good husband. As in, she actually lost him—he walked out on her and she has no idea where he is. But in her remote village in India, rumor has it that Geeta killed him. And it's a rumor that just won't die.

It turns out that being known as a "self-made" widow comes with some perks. No one messes with her, harasses her, or tries to control (ahem, marry) her. It's even been good for business; no one dares to not buy her jewelry.

Freedom must look good on Geeta, because now other women are asking for her"expertise," making her an unwitting consultant for husband disposal.

And not all of them are asking nicely.

With Geeta's dangerous reputation becoming a double-edged sword, she has to find a way to protect the life she's built—but even the best-laid plans of would-be widows tend to go awry. What happens next sets in motion a chain of events that will change everything, not just for Geeta, but for all the women in their village.

Filled with clever criminals, second chances, and wry and witty women, Parini Shroff's The Bandit Queens is a razor-sharp debut of humor and heart that readers won't soon forget.

One

The women were arguing. The loan officer was due to arrive in a few hours, and they were still missing two hundred rupees. Rather, Farah and her two hundred rupees were missing. The other four women of their loan group had convened, as they did every Tuesday, to aggregate their respective funds.

"Where is she?" Geeta asked.

No one answered. Instead, the women pieced their respective Farah sightings into a jigsaw of gossip that, to Geeta's ears at least, failed to align. Saloni—a woman whose capacity for food was exceeded only by her capacity for venom—goaded most of the conversation.

"This isn't the first time," Priya said.

"And you know it won't be the last," Saloni finished.

When Preity mentioned she was fairly certain she'd seen Farah buying hashish, Geeta felt it best to nudge them to more prosaic matters. "Varunbhai is not going to like this."

"Well, now we know where her money's going," Priya said.

"Some devout Muslim." Saloni sniffed, the gesture dainty for a woman of her size. Lately she'd been attempting to rebrand her weight as evidence of her community status. Compounded with her preternatural talent for bullying, this guise worked on the women. But Geeta had known Saloni and her family since childhood—when she ruled the playground rather than their loan group—and could accurately attribute her heft to genetics betraying her in her thirtieth year rather than any posh mark of affluence. Ironic, considering Saloni had spent her first nineteen years perpetually malnourished, thin as paper, and just as prone to cut. She'd married well, curving into a stunning woman who'd reclaimed her slim figure after her firstborn, but hadn't managed the same after the second.

Geeta listened to their rumors, observed how the women contributed and piled on, with clinical interest. This must've been the way they'd whispered about her after Ramesh left—a fallen woman "mixed with dirt"—then shushing each other when she approached, their lips peeling into sympathetic smiles as sincere as political promises. But now, five years after her husband's disappearance, Geeta found herself within the fold rather than shunned, thanks to Farah's absence. It was a dubious honor.

Her fingers toyed with her ear. When she used to wear earrings, she would often check to make sure the backs were secure. The sharp but benign prick of the stud against her thumb had been reassuring. The habit lingered even after Ramesh vanished and she'd stopped wearing jewelry altogether—no nose ring, no bangles, no earrings.

Tired of the gossip, she interrupted the women's musings on Farah's defection: "If each of us puts in another fifty, we can still give Varunbhai the full amount."

That got their attention. The room quieted. Geeta heard the feeble hum of her fan stirring the air. The flywheel's tight circles oscillated like a tiny hula hoop. The blades were ornamental; the heat remained thick and unforgiving. The fan hung from a strong cord Ramesh had tied in their old house. It'd been early in their marriage, so when he'd stumbled on the ladder, it had been okay to laugh—he'd even joined her. Rage hadn't found Ramesh until their second year together, after her parents passed away. When she'd been forced to move into this smaller home, she'd tied the cord herself.

A lizard darted up the wall in a diagonal before hiding in the lintel's shadow. Geeta's mother used to tell her not to be afraid, that they brought good luck. She itched to see it plop from the dark pocket onto one of the women—preferably Saloni who was terrified of all animals except, inexplicably, spiders. The other two—sisters Priya and Preity—-were neither kind nor cruel, but they deferred to their leader. Geeta could sympathize, having herself once served under Saloni.

"No way," Saloni said. "It's Farah's problem."

Geeta stared at the dark wall, willing the lizard to be a good sport. Nothing. "It's our problem," she snapped. "If we default, Varunbhai...

Full Excerpt

Excerpted from The Bandit Queens by Parini Shroff. Copyright © 2023 by Parini Shroff. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Please be aware that this discussion guide will contain spoilers!

  1. At the very beginning of the novel, we learn that Geeta feels ostracized and isolated by her village because of the rumors surrounding her husband's disappearance. What did you think of the "small-town" politics at play and how they affected Geeta's life in the five years before the novel opens? How do you think those same politics continued to affect Geeta and the other women over the course of the novel?
  2. When Farah comes to Geeta and asks for her help in doing away with Samir the same way she supposedly rid herself of Ramesh, Geeta realizes that the reputation she's leaned on to help build her new life has now become a double-edged sword. What do you think you would have done if you were placed in Geeta's position?
  3. One of the things that makes the strong female characters in The Bandit Queens so relatable is that they are flawed. For example—at first, Geeta is too proud to ask for help when Farah begins to blackmail her, and we see her eventually have to swallow that pride and go to Saloni for assistance. What other flaws made the characters feel more relatable as you were reading?
  4. When Saloni does find an answer to Geeta's problem, it's certainly not the kind Geeta was hoping for! What did you think of Saloni's solution and of Priya and Preity joining the fray?
  5. As the women come to Geeta asking for her help, we understand that our "would-be widows" are equating being widowed with being free, and that they seem to be inspired by Geeta's freedom to live her life as she chooses and not at the dictates of a husband. Would you equate these two things in the same way? Do you think their particular circumstances are shaping this idea of freedom for them? Why or why not?
  6. Throughout the novel, we see that several of our female characters feel that violence is the only means left to them by which they can improve their circumstances. What do you think of that idea—do you think violence can ever be justified? Are there any other solutions that you can see for them?
  7. While we see several female characters choose violence, we also see a number of male characters choose (or threaten) the same—Samir, Ramesh, and Bada-Bhai, especially. What difference do you feel it makes, if any, when violence is being perpetrated by male characters versus female characters? What factors do you think contribute to why we perceive violence differently depending on who is committing the act?
  8. The author explores a number of serious topics in the novel—patriarchal societies and the caste system among them. Did reading The Bandit Queens cause you to look at these (or any other) social institutions in a new way?
  9. What is unique about this novel is how the author uses humor to explore and give nuance to these and other serious topics; what did you think of the author's choice to do so? What effect did it have on you as you were reading? Did it cause you to think about those topics in any new ways?
  10. Over the course of the novel, we see Geeta learn to open herself up to new experiences, to rekindling friendships, and even to new love. What did you think of her journey as a character? Were you rooting for her all along the way?
  11. Female friendship is one of the central themes of The Bandit Queens, and towards the end of the novel, we see the phrase "be a bonobo" become a touchstone for this idea. What did you think of the lessons the women learned as they banded together to protect each other? Are there any female friendships in your life that you think exemplify the idea of "being a bonobo"?
  12. Were you familiar with India's Bandit Queen before reading the novel? After reading about her in the novel, what was your reaction to this individual's life?
  13. What do you think the future has in store for Geeta and the book's other characters? How do you see their lives progressing?
  14. Karem tells Geeta that love isn't a feeling, it's a commitment – a "choice you renew every day." What do you think of this? Do you agree with him?
  15. Karem tells Geeta "Sometimes to do the right thing, you have to do the wrong one first." What do you think he means? Do you feel he's correct in his assessment? If so, can you think of other examples where this might be true?
  16. Saloni believes the women can literally get away with murder because they're middle-aged housewives. "Who's more invisible than us?" she asks Geeta. Do you think the women are invisible to others in their society? Do you think this is the same or different in your own culture?
  17. The culture portrayed in the book is rife with injustices. What injustices do you see in your own culture? How does one level the playing field? In your opinion, is there an effective way pursue justice for all in your own society?



This discussion guide was provided by Ballentine Books and reprinted with their permission, augmented with questions from BookBrowse's editorial team.

 

Unless otherwise stated, this discussion guide is reprinted with the permission of Ballantine Books. Any page references refer to a USA edition of the book, usually the trade paperback version, and may vary in other editions.

Here are some of the recent comments posted about The Bandit Queens.
You can read the full discussion here, and please do participate if you wish.
Be aware that this discussion will contain spoilers!

Do you think violence can ever be justified?
Yes, some circumstances justify violence - especially if it is in response to violence being enacted upon you. Then violence may be the only means of justification. - taking.mytime

Farah approaches Geeta for help in doing away with Samir. What would you have done if placed in Geeta's position?
Murder is not in my wheelhouse, so thankfully society has come up with other options. Domestic violence as a crime is better reacted to now than it has ever been. There are so many differences between Geeta's life style and mine - she did not ... - taking.mytime

Karem tells Geeta "Sometimes to do the right thing, you have to do the wrong one first." What do you think he means?
I think there is always push and pull between right and wrong. Everyone knows that people do not always do the "right" thing. However what is right for one person is wrong for another. We can only grow by testing these apotheosis out. I don... - taking.mytime

Karem tells Geeta that love isn't a feeling, it's a "choice you renew every day." Do you agree with him?
I agree with Karem - love is a choice that you make daily - however I also think it is a feeling. It starts from a feeling and grows into something that you want to foster and rekindle on a daily basis. - taking.mytime

One of the things that makes the strong female characters in the novel so relatable is that they are flawed. Which flaws made the characters feel more relatable to you?
So many flaws - back stabbing, lying, pride, keeping things to themselves, grudges - taking.mytime

Overall, what do you think of The Bandit Queens? (no spoilers)
Overall, I have really enjoyed this novel! I had selected it because it seemed entirely different from anything I've read, and, for the most part, that proved to be the case. I appreciate the insight that Shroff offered us; I knew next... - RachStan

Saloni believes that as middle-aged housewives they're invisible. Do you think this is the same or different in your own culture?
I don't think that housewives are invisible in our society, however they certainly do not carry the same respect or notice as a professional woman - which is totally unfair. They do tend to be more hidden as far as a hierarchy, however the law ... - taking.mytime

The "would-be widows" are equating being widowed with being free. Would you equate these two things in the same way?
For these women this did mean freedom. Freedom from a husband that abused them and a life style they did not want to live or be subjected to. Obviously that is not the way I would handle a situation like that. Divorce is not frowned upon in our ... - taking.mytime

The author explores a number of serious topics in the novel. Did reading the novel cause you to look at any social institutions in a new way?
This book just reiterated that all nationalities are subjected to the same discrimination and abuses as all others. Rich, poor, Caucasian, Black, American, Indian - makes no difference. People are people - good and bad - all walks of life are really... - taking.mytime

The culture portrayed in the book is rife with injustices. Is there an effective way pursue justice?
I think that equality equates to a more fair and equal justice. You have heard that there has to be poor people for the rich to survive - I think it is the same way with justice. There has to be the downtrodden for the elite to survive. Until we ... - taking.mytime

Were you familiar with India's Bandit Queen before reading the novel?
No, I was not aware. So thank you to Book Browse for educating me. - taking.mytime

What did you think of Geeta's journey as a character?
I really liked and enjoyed Geeta. It was nice to see her grow into herself and be more personable. - taking.mytime

What did you think of Saloni's solution to Geeta's problem and of Priya and Preity joining the fray?
Saloni was definitely a planner, a doer, and a natural leader. I definitely could see her taking charge. I felt like the twins didn't want to be there and really wondered what they added to the hostage situation description. - BuffaloGirl

What did you think of the "small-town" politics at play and how they affected Geeta's life in the five years before the novel opens?
Small towns, villages, everyone knows everyone else and they think they know exactly what goes on - whether they really do or not. Gossip is horrendous. Geeta just had to ignore the gossip and go on with her life as best she could, she had no way of ... - taking.mytime

What did you think of the author's choice to use humor to explore serious topics?
I think without the humor this book would have been flat. It would have been depressing and a hard book to read. There is too much sadness in the world not to use humor to lighten the load. This book is a good example of where and how humor can add ... - taking.mytime

What did you think of the lessons the women learned as they banded together to protect each other?
Having a fellow friend to lean on in hard times is everything for mental preservation. Knowing you are not alone is not only welcoming but needed. Working together towards a goal gave them protection, encouragement and strength - all lessons that ... - taking.mytime

What do you think the future has in store for Geeta and the book's other characters?
Their support of each other will help them a lot - which is needed - because their society is not likely to change much. Over time - meaning years and years - they will see change and hopefully that will be for the better as the women continue to ... - taking.mytime

What factors do you think contribute to why we perceive violence differently depending on who is committing the act?
It makes a difference if the act of violence is voluntary or in response to an act of violence. Violence perpetrated for control is not the same as violence for self preservation. Domestic violence is not always engaged by the male - in this story it... - taking.mytime

A debut novel as humorous as it is dark, The Bandit Queens by Parini Shroff is a drama-riddled story about the strength women wield when banding together in the battle against systemic oppression.

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Geeta's been branded a churel — a revenge-seeking mythological being — by her Indian village because her abusive husband, Ramesh, disappeared five years ago and everybody assumes she murdered him. The story always varies: Did she feed him to stray dogs? Poison him? The village can think what they want; Geeta didn't kill him, but after suffering his abuse, being viewed as a murderous widow seems like the most freedom she has experienced in her whole life. That is, until some other women want to get rid of their own horrible husbands as well, and they think Geeta is the perfect candidate to help execute them. She soon finds herself blackmailed into becoming an accomplice for a crime that has never been a part of her resume. In other words, Geeta realizes she's in deep shit, and somehow, the pile keeps getting deeper and deeper. Parini Shroff's The Bandit Queens is a darkly comedic tale about female friendship and women's empowerment that upholds respectful discourse about violence against women in India and the systems that perpetuate that brutality.

Shroff's novel is a delicate tightrope act, always balancing on the line between comedy and tragedy. It quickly won my heart in engaging with sexism and casteism gracefully. Seamless dialogue reads as if it's from a binge-worthy Netflix series and descriptions perfectly encompass the author's balanced approach. Her acerbic wit and cheekiness surprised me throughout the novel, and I often felt like the third–person narrative was both its own character and a friend of mine. Describing an abusive man trying to seem amicable to Geeta, Shroff writes, "The amount of bullshit that fell from that fucker's mouth could fertilize half of India." In this passage, the man in question has "turned his life around" and tries to appear like an apologetic husband in the public eye. The village sees the turn-around as some romantic fantasy, and the man becomes a sort of hero. However, Geeta and the women around her can see right through him and refuse to forget how dangerous and volatile he can be. The joke is on the ridiculousness of the town, not the women hurt because of the village-wide reaction.

In another section, Shroff mentions an interaction between Geeta and Khushi. Khushi is a Dalit woman. She and others belonging to the Scheduled Castes cannot touch those in a higher caste, as anything they touch is considered "polluted":

"I have company," Khushi said. They were of Khushi's ilk, the unspoken information tracking beneath her words like subtitles, and Geeta's caste would necessitate uncomfortable adjustments. They wouldn't be able to sit on furniture in her presence, instead standing in deference before moving to the ground.

In this passage, which is tonally more delicate than the quote about the abusive man, the reader can see that Shroff knows when and when not to employ humor, so as to keep it from diluting her story. I greatly appreciated her tact in tackling grave topics.

The Bandit Queens at its core is about the ways women push against the systems created to disempower them, all while banding together to navigate these systems and come out stronger than if they had battled them alone. "The unfortunate status quo is that it is tough for women everywhere, and female friendships are what will carry us through the darkness and absurdity of life," Shroff writes in her Author's Note. She continues, "Such connections, however, are not always easily forged in a world keen to divide, mark, and label as 'other.'" To fight the intersectional experiences of oppression that coincide with womanhood, while recognizing that different identities present intrinsically different struggles, is a form of great strength. As Shroff's novel shows, to push against multiple oppressive forces and find genuine friendship in it all is not only beautiful, but it is how we survive.

Reviewed by Lisa Ahima

CrimeReads
This book is so much fun! In Parini Shroff's dark comedy, the put-upon women of a small Indian village decide to get rid of their husbands—permanently. Things quickly spiral out of control as the bodies start piling up, the police get curious, and Geeta enters into a second-chance romance with a quiet widower who runs a speakeasy. And there's a dog! What's not to love?

Good Housekeeping
This funny, feel-good read is a rollicking ride rife with memorable characters involved in ill-fated hijinks. It also serves up commentary on class, power dynamics and the role of women in society, with a feminist history lesson to boot.

Booklist (starred review)
Shroff's debut is a darkly hilarious take on gossip, caste, truth, village life, and the patriarchy. A perfect match for fans of Oyinkan Braithwaite's My Sister, the Serial Killer and clever, subversive storytelling.

Library Journal (starred review)
At once immensely sad ... but it has laugh-out-loud moments too. This is a deeply human book, with women surviving and overcoming in their culture while still remaining a part of it. Similar in feel to Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri.

Kirkus Reviews
Witty one-liners, tender moments of deep female friendship, and salient truths ... [A] tale of the strength of women in impossible situations.

Publishers Weekly
In Shroff's acerbic debut, a woman helps other women escape their abusive marriages in their small village in India, often through murder... . Readers are in for a razor-stuffed treat.

The Washington Post
Shroff cleverly considers how women might achieve autonomy within rural India's patriarchal society through shrewd, if complicated, female friendships.

Author Blurb Charmaine Wilkerson, New York Times bestselling author of Black Cake
The Bandit Queens is an original, memorable, and endearing story. At times deeply serious, then laugh-out-loud funny, Parini Shroff has written a sobering but hopeful exploration of womanhood, social injustices, and second chances.

Author Blurb Cristina García, New York Times bestselling author of Dreaming in Cuban and The Lady Matador's Hotel
Parini Shroff's debut novel is a rollicking mash-up of adventure story, thriller, dark revenge, and comedy. Rooted in a rural village in India—and led by the pariah widow Geeta, whom everyone believes to have killed her husband—a handful of women band together to take back their lives, and take down the patriarchy. An immensely enjoyable read!

Author Blurb Elizabeth McCracken, bestselling author of The Souvenir Museum and The Hero of This Book
Parini Shroff's splendid The Bandit Queens is a hilarious romp about serious things—as serious as a novel gets, and as funny, too, with characters who are dear and maddening and indelible and gorgeously drawn. Twisty, compulsive, bold, surprising, moving: It's a wonderful book.

Author Blurb Téa Obreht, New York Times bestselling author of The Tiger's Wife
Shroff captures the complexity of female friendship with acuity, wit, and a certain kind of magic irreverence... . The Bandit Queens is tender, unpredictable, and brimming with laugh-out-loud moments.

Write your own review

Rated 5 of 5 of 5 by Tired Bookreader
Super Fun Ride
If one is looking for a book to ease feelings of disappointment for ones' spouse, this book will give the humorous side of the joy of being single. It can be much easier when the person who gives daily challenges ceases to reside in the same house. I loved this book and have already recommended to several others...no one has been disappointed. AND, there is a waiting list at several libraries...should tell you something!

Rated 5 of 5 of 5 by Katherine Pond
Bonobos United
Having thought the caste system has been outlawed in India, it was surprising to find this tale set in current time. Still, the system is so very confusing, not the basis necessarily, but the strange differences in economic situations that can exist in the various levels--a Brahmin, the highest caste can grow up with no money, starving, dependent upon others, while a Dalit, an untouchable can be quite affluent.

Besides the caste system there are differences in the culture of Muslim Indians and Hindu Indians that are very significant. A Hindu widow for example cannot remarry, is excluded from all celebrations etc while a Muslim woman has great freedom as a widow.

Both of these conditions are significant in the story but of greater importance is the position of women in society. Although they are eligible for loans that men are not, their husbands can steal those funds or the monies the women earn from any small business they might set up with the loans.

The men are not to be punished for women and their funds are the possessions of the husbands. Wives can be sexually molested or beaten--if by their husbands there is no punishment and not a great deal of punishment of men not their husbands. Needless to say many women are not content living this way. And sometimes these women take matters into their own hands..

One such woman is Geeta, whose husband disappeared five years before the book begins. His body has never been found but the villagers assume Geeta killed him. In general, she is a loner and is friendless. She does have some leadership qualities and so she has been allowed into one of the loan groups which meets once a month to pay the loan man. It is this group of women who are the focus of the story. As with any group, especially of women, there is jealousy, gossip, cliquish behavior, and in time murder and blackmail.

At times, convoluted and dangerous, at others hilariously inept, these women struggle to have a voice and self-determination that the culture and traditions of thousands of years has denied them. In the end, old resentments and past degradations and cruelty are sorted. The village is changed in most cases for the better and the women become a wonderful group of bonobos!

Rated 5 of 5 of 5 by EssEmm
Best Medicine
If laughter can cure cancer, I should be in remission soon because I just finished reading Parini Shroff's The Bandit Queens.

Rated 5 of 5 of 5 by wincheryl
Reality in rural India
The Bandit Queens tells of the oppression of women in rural India. One husband disappears and rumors become murder. Other women ask her how she did it. She states she did not kill her husband. Geeta and the other women are part of a cooperative so they can make money and get loans. The story was sad yet uplifting as they find their independence. The only drawback was the overuse of Indian words. I found it distracting as I always had to pause and figure out what was being said.

Rated 3 of 5 of 5 by Joane wolpin
Bandit Queens
The story had a very interesting theme. The reaction of these women to a possible crime epitomizes a novel of black humor. The way each of these women interpreted the possible crime made the story a little more believable.

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Phoolan Devi: The Real-Life "Bandit Queen"

A black-and-white illustration of Phoolan Devi, with long hair worn under a headband In Parini Shroff's The Bandit Queens, Phoolan Devi (pronounced POOH-lann DAY-vee) is a feminist symbol of strength, poise and honor to abused women, her portrait hung high in main character Geeta's home. Devi, known as India's "Bandit Queen," is the only real-world figure highlighted throughout the novel. So who exactly was she?

Devi was born on August 10, 1963 in a small rural village, Ghura Ka Purwa. She was Nishad, a sub-caste of the Mallah caste that has been socially and economically aligned with Dalits, those derogatorily known as "untouchables." Despite growing up in abject poverty and in a patriarchal society, Devi stood up for herself and was notoriously outspoken from a young age — she was not happy about the control men often assumed over her. Many of the details of her early life are unclear or disputed, but according to some accounts, after her paternal grandfather's death, a male cousin made executive decisions on how to curate the very little farmland left to the family, and she responded by publicly berating him and staging a dharna (sit-in) on the land. Shortly following that incident, her family arranged for her to marry a man three times her age. She was 11 years old.

Throughout her marriage, she experienced physical, verbal and sexual abuse. After countless attempts to run away, she was returned to her family. As a wife leaving her husband was considered disgraceful, she was shunned for her actions and spent her teenage years as a social outcast. She eventually became part of a band of dacoits (bandits), who robbed wealthy surrounding areas, though it is not clear whether she was kidnapped or joined willingly.

For years onward in her life as a dacoit, Devi would experience rape and abuse from men who dehumanized her as a lower-caste woman, including the gang leader, Babu Gujjar. She is said to have become romantically involved with Vikram Mallah, a man from her own caste and the band's second-in-command, after he avenged her by killing Gujjar. Following a later gang dispute between members of different castes that led to Vikram's murder, Devi was captured by the victorious gang members and taken to the village of Behmai, where she was raped by several upper-caste Thakur men. After escaping this situation, Devi joined forces with other Mallah members of the gang, and eventually led her own gang composed entirely of Mallahs.

Devi's ensuing fame and the nickname Bandit Queen can be attributed to the 1981 Valentine's Day Behmai Massacre, in which, according to The Times of India, she "gunned down as many as 20 Thakurs...to avenge her rape." Vikram is said to have told Devi, "If you are going to kill, kill twenty, not just one. For if you kill twenty, your fame will spread; if you kill only one, they will hang you as a murderess."

In fact, Devi did earn a reputation as a Robin Hood figure and an underdog, which glorified her among the lower castes and gave her public sympathy and support. Following the massacre, Devi evaded police for two years before turning herself in. After she had been imprisoned for 11 years, the government made the controversial decision to drop the charges against her and release her on parole.

Devi then pivoted her fight against injustice, throwing herself into Indian politics and serving as a Member of Parliament for two years. Finally, people were able to see her as someone who showed strength without the use of brutal force, as a mouthpiece for political change. In July 2001, at the age of 37, Devi was shot dead outside of her home in New Delhi by three men believed to have acted in revenge for the 1981 massacre.

Devi's tumultuous life story is as tragic as it is compelling, and how the world should remember her is a complicated question. As writer Katie Presley summarized in an article for Bitch Media, "As a Parliamentarian, she fought for women's rights, an end to child marriage, and the rights of India's poor. In a Che Guevara-type revision of history, though, Devi is remembered as a romantic Robin Hood figure, robbing the rich to help the poor, and not as a politician working to enact structural change in India's social hierarchies." Regardless of how you choose to remember her, Phoolan Devi's legacy will live on for decades to come.

An illustration of Phoolan Devi, via dignidadrebelde (CC BY 2.0)

Filed under People, Eras & Events

By Lisa Ahima

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