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Ancient Texts: Kautilya's Arthashastra - Chapters 1-5 (Book 3 - Concerning Law)

  • Writer: A. Royden D'Souza
    A. Royden D'Souza
  • Jun 8
  • 76 min read

The first two books of the Arthashastra constructed two of the three pillars on which the Kautilyan state rests. Book I built the king—his discipline, his education, his inner circle, his spies, his council, his personal security.


Book II built the economic machinery—the superintendents who manage the kingdom's villages, forests, mines, treasuries, mints, storehouses, workshops, tolls, and trade routes. Together, they create a state that is both governed and fed.


Chapters 1 through 5 of Book III of Arthashastra raise the third pillar: the law. Kautilya turns from the production of wealth to the resolution of conflict. He establishes the structure of courts, the qualifications of judges, the procedures for filing suits and presenting evidence, and the detailed civil code that governs marriage, dowry, inheritance, debt, deposits, and the recovery of what is owed.


Judges in Mauryan Empire

These are not the grand themes of war and diplomacy that dominate later books. They are the mundane, essential, unglamorous questions on which the peace of every household depends: Who inherits the father's property? What happens when a husband abandons his wife? How is a debt proved when the witnesses are dead? What protection does a widow have against her husband's relatives?


Kautilya reveals himself in these chapters as a jurist and a social engineer. He understands that a kingdom is not merely a territory, an army, and a treasury. It is a web of relationships—between husband and wife, parent and child, creditor and debtor, depositor and trustee—and every one of those relationships can break.


The law is the instrument that mends the broken or, when mending is impossible, provides a just settlement. The judge who hears a widow's claim, the court that orders a debtor to pay, the procedure that distinguishes a true witness from a false one—these are the sinews of a kingdom no less than the toll-gate or the granary.


The tortoise's shell is made not only of iron, stone, and gold but of judgments, precedents, and the trust that justice will be done.


Book III of Arthashastra: Concerning Judges (Dharmastha)


The third book, Dharmastha (धर्मस्थ), translates to "Concerning Judges" or "On the Administration of Justice." Where Book I forged the king from within and Book II built the machinery of economic administration, Book III establishes the legal framework through which the state resolves disputes, punishes wrongdoing, and maintains the social order.


Its central argument is that a kingdom without law is a kingdom without foundation; the king's discipline and the superintendent's efficiency are meaningless if the people cannot trust the courts to deliver justice.


The book's 20 chapters provide a comprehensive code of civil and criminal law, covering marriage, inheritance, debt, contracts, assault, defamation, theft, and the procedures by which judges investigate and adjudicate every form of dispute.


Chanakya

Chapter I: Determination of Forms of Agreement; Determination of Legal Disputes


In the cities of Sangrahana, Dronamukha, and Sthaniya, and at places where districts meet, three members acquainted with Sacred Law (dharmasthas) and three ministers of the king (amatyas) shall carry on the administration of Justice.


Valid and Invalid Transactions: They shall hold as void agreements (vyavahara) entered into in seclusion, inside the houses, in the dead of night, in forests, in secret, or with fraud.


The proposer and the accessory shall be punished with the first amercement; the witnesses (srotri, voluntary hearers) shall each be punished with half of the above fine; and accepters shall suffer the loss they may have sustained. But agreements entered into within the hearing of others, as well as those not otherwise condemnable shall be valid.


Those agreements which relate to the division of inheritance, sealed or unsealed deposits, or marriage; or those in which are concerned women who are either afflicted with disease or who do not stir out; as well as those entered into by persons who are not known to be of unsound mind shall be valid though they might be entered into inside houses.


Transactions relating to robbery, duel, marriage, or the execution of the king's order, as well as agreements entered into by persons who usually do their business during the first part of the night shall be valid though they might be done at night.


With regard to those persons who live most part of their life in forests, whether as merchants, cowherds, hermits, hunters, or spies, their agreements though entered into in forests shall be valid. If fraudulent agreements, only such shall be valid as are entered into by spies.


Agreements entered into by members of any association among themselves shall be valid though entered into in private. Such agreements (i.e., those entered into in seclusion, etc.) except as detailed above shall be void.


So also agreements entered into by dependent or unauthorised persons, such as a father's mother, a son, a father having a son, an outcast brother, the youngest brother of a family of undivided interests, a wife having her husband or son, a slave, a hired labourer, any person who is too young or too old to carry on business, a convict (abhisasta), a cripple, or an afflicted person, shall not be valid. But it would be otherwise if he were authorised.


Even agreements entered into by an authorised person shall be void if he was at the time (of making the agreements) under provocation, anxiety, or intoxication, or if he was a lunatic or a haunted person. In all these cases, the proposer, his accessory, and witnesses shall each be punished as specified above.


But such agreements as are entered into in person by any one with others of his own community in suitable place and time are valid provided the circumstances, the nature, the description, and the qualities of the case are credible.


Such agreements with the exception of orders (Adesa, probably a bill of exchange) and hypothecations may be binding though entered into by a third person. Thus the determination of the forms of agreement.


The Trial: The year, the season, the month, the fortnight (paksha), the date, the nature and place of the deed, the amount of the debt as well as the country, the residence, the caste, the gotra, the name and occupation of both the plaintiff and the defendant both of whom must be fit to sue and defend (kritasamarthavasthayoh), having been registered first, the statements of the parties shall be taken down in such order as is required by the case. These statements shall then be thoroughly scrutinised.


The Offence of Parokta: Leaving out the question at issue, either of the parties takes resort to another; his previous statement is not consistent with his subsequent one; he insists on the necessity of considering the opinion of a third person, though it is not worthy of any such consideration; having commenced to answer the question at issue, he breaks off at once, even though he is ordered to continue; he introduces questions other than those specified by himself; he withdraws his own statement; he does not accept what his own witnesses have deposed to; and he holds secret conversation with his witnesses where he ought not to do so. These constitute the offence of Parokta.


Punishment for Parokta: Fine for parokta is five times the amount (paroktadandah panchabandah). Fine for self assertion (svayamvadi, asserting without evidence) is ten times the amount (dasabandha).


Payments for Witnesses: Fees for witnesses (purushabhritih) shall cover 1/8th of the amount (astanga). Provision proportional to the amount sued for may also be made for the expenses incurred by witnesses in their journey. The defeated party shall pay these two kinds of costs.


Countersuits: In cases other than duel, robbery, as well as disputes among merchants or trade-guilds, the defendant shall file no countercase against the plaintiff. Nor can there be a countercase for the defendant.


Adjournments: The plaintiff shall reply soon after the defendant has answered the questions at issue. Else he shall be guilty of parokta, for the plaintiff knows the determining factors of the case. But the defendant does not do so.


The defendant may be allowed three or seven nights to prepare his defence. If he is not ready with his defence within that time, he shall be punished with a fine ranging from 3 to 12 panas.


If he does not answer even after three fortnights, he shall be fined for parokta, and the plaintiff shall recover out of the defendant's property the amount of the case. But if the plaintiff sues for a mere return of gratitude (pratyupakarana), then no decree shall be passed.


The same punishment shall be meted out to such of the defendants as fail in their defence.


If the plaintiff fails to prove his case, he shall also be guilty of parokta. If he fails to substantiate his case against a dead or diseased defendant, he shall pay a fine and perform the funeral ceremonies of the defendant, as determined by the witnesses. If he proves his case, he may be permitted to take possession of the property hypothecated to him.


But if he is not a Brahmin, he may, on his failure to prove his case, be caused to perform such ceremonials as drive out demons (rakshoghna rakshitakam).


The Four Legs of Law:

  • In virtue of his power to uphold the observance of the respective duties of the four castes and of the four divisions of religious life, and in virtue of his power to guard against the violation of the Dharmas, the king is the fountain of justice (dharmapravartaka).

  • Sacred law (Dharma), evidence (Vyavahara), history (Charitra), and edicts of kings (Rajasasana) are the four legs of Law. Of these four in order, the later is superior to the one previously named.

  • Dharma is eternal truth holding its sway over the world; Vyavahara, evidence, is in witnesses; Charitra, history, is to be found in the tradition (sangraha) of the people; and the order of kings is what is called sasana.

  • As the duty of a king consists in protecting his subjects with justice, its observance leads him to heaven. He who does not protect his people or upsets the social order wields his royal sceptre (danda) in vain.

  • It is power and power (danda) alone which, only when exercised by the king with impartiality and in proportion to guilt either over his son or his enemy, maintains both this world and the next.

  • The king who administers justice in accordance with sacred law (Dharma), evidence (vyavahara), history (samstha) and edicts of kings (Nyaya) which is the fourth will be able to conquer the whole world bounded by the four quarters (Chaturantam mahim).

  • Whenever there is disagreement between history and sacred law or between evidence and sacred law, then the matter shall be settled in accordance with sacred law.

  • But whenever sacred law (sastra) is in conflict with rational law (Dharmanyaya, king's law), then reason shall be held authoritative; for there the original text (on which the sacred law has been based) is not available.

  • Self-assertion (svayamvada) on the part of either of the parties has often been found faulty. Examination (anuyoga), honesty (arjava), evidence (hetu) and asseveration by oath (sapatha)—these alone can enable a man to win his cause.

  • Whenever by means of the deposition of witnesses, the statements of either of the parties are found contradictory, and whenever the cause of either of the parties is found through the king's spies to be false, then the decree shall be passed against that party.


Determination of Legal Disputes

In Simple Terms


The main ideas from this chapter can be understood in these simple points:


The Court — Three Judges and Three Ministers: Justice is administered by a panel of six: three dharmasthas, men learned in sacred law, and three amatyas, the king's ministers. The court sits in the administrative centres—the district towns, the regional fortresses, and at the junctions of provinces. Justice is not the work of a single judge but of a body, balancing sacred knowledge with practical governance.


Agreements Made in Secret Are Void: The law begins with a sweeping rule: any agreement made in seclusion, inside a house, in the dead of night, in a forest, in secret, or with fraud is void. The proposer and his accessory are fined the first amercement.


Witnesses who voluntarily heard the secret agreement are fined half that amount. Those who accepted the agreement bear their own losses. The principle is clear: a transaction that hides from public view is presumed fraudulent.


Exceptions — When Secret Agreements Are Valid: The rule is not absolute. Agreements concerning inheritance, deposits, marriage, or women who are ill or confined to their homes are valid even if made inside houses.


Robbery, duels, marriage, royal orders, and business done during the first part of the night—these are valid even at night. Forest-dwellers—merchants, cowherds, hermits, hunters, spies—may make valid agreements in the forest, because that is where they live.


Members of an association may make valid agreements in private among themselves. Spies may make fraudulent agreements, and they will be valid—for the state's purposes.


Dependents Cannot Contract: A long list of persons cannot make valid agreements unless they are specifically authorised: a father's mother, a son, a father who already has a son managing the family property, an outcast brother, the youngest brother in an undivided family, a wife whose husband or son is alive, a slave, a hired labourer, anyone too young or too old, a convict, a cripple, or an afflicted person. These are dependents. They do not have independent legal capacity. If they are authorised, their agreements may stand.


Even the Authorised Can Be Incapacitated: An authorised person who makes an agreement under provocation, anxiety, intoxication, lunacy, or possession by spirits—that agreement is void. The law recognises that mental state affects consent. A man who signs a contract while drunk or terrified is not truly consenting.


The Trial Begins with the Record: Before any argument, the court registers everything: the year, season, month, fortnight, date, the nature and place of the dispute, the amount at stake, and the country, residence, caste, gotra, name, and occupation of both parties.


The plaintiff and defendant must both be fit to sue and defend. Their statements are taken down in order and then scrutinised.


The Offence of Parokta — Lying in Court: Parokta is the offence of procedural dishonesty. It covers many acts: abandoning the question at issue for another, contradicting one's own previous statement, insisting on a third person's irrelevant opinion, breaking off an answer midway, introducing new questions, withdrawing one's own statement, rejecting what one's own witnesses have said, and holding secret conversations with witnesses. Parokta is the legal term for bad faith in litigation.


Penalties for Parokta: The fine for parokta is five times the amount at stake. The fine for self-assertion—claiming something without evidence—is ten times the amount. The law punishes dishonesty in court far more heavily than the original dispute might warrant.


Witnesses Must Be Paid: Witnesses receive a fee of one-eighth of the amount at stake. They also receive travel expenses proportional to the amount sued for. The defeated party pays both. Justice is not free; the loser bears the cost.


No Countersuits: Except in cases of duel, robbery, or disputes among merchants and trade-guilds, the defendant cannot file a countersuit against the plaintiff. The defendant must defend; he cannot attack.


The Defendant Gets Time, But Not Forever: The defendant is allowed three or seven nights to prepare his defence. If he is not ready, he is fined three to twelve panas.


If he still does not answer after three fortnights, he is fined for parokta, and the plaintiff can recover the amount from the defendant's property. But if the plaintiff sues merely for a return of gratitude—a moral claim, not a legal one—no decree is issued.


If the Plaintiff Fails: If the plaintiff cannot prove his case, he too is guilty of parokta. If he fails to prove his case against a dead or diseased defendant, he must pay a fine and perform the funeral ceremonies of the defendant. If he proves his case, he may take possession of the property pledged to him. A non-Brahmin plaintiff who fails may also be required to perform rituals to drive out demons—a humiliating penalty.


The Four Legs of Law: Kautilya closes the chapter with a philosophical foundation. The four legs of law are: Dharma (sacred law, eternal truth), Vyavahara (evidence, witnesses), Charitra (history, the traditions of the people), and Rajasasana (the edicts of kings). These four are in ascending order: each later leg is superior to the one before.


The king's edict overrides tradition. Tradition overrides evidence. Evidence overrides sacred law? No—Kautilya clarifies: when history and sacred law disagree, sacred law prevails. But when sacred law conflicts with rational law—the king's law, dharmanyaya—reason is authoritative, because the original sacred text may be lost or inapplicable. The king, acting with reason and justice, is the ultimate source of law.


The chapter ends with a warning: self-assertion without evidence is faulty. Only examination, honesty, evidence, and oath can win a case. And when spies reveal that either party's statements are false, the decree goes against that party.


Case Study: An Ancient King's Application


The Mughal Empire under Aurangzeb (r. 1658–1707) produced the most comprehensive codification of Islamic law in Indian history, the Fatawa-i-Alamgiri, a compilation of Hanafi jurisprudence that served as the standard legal text for the empire's qazi courts. The structure of the Mughal judiciary closely mirrored the Kautilyan system.


The Mughal qazi was the equivalent of the dharmastha—a judge learned in sacred law. He sat in the district headquarters, the provincial capitals, and the imperial capital, exactly as Kautilya prescribes for the sangrahana, dronamukha, and sthaniya.


The qazi was assisted by the mufti, who expounded the law, and the mir adl, who executed judgments. The combination of legal scholar, administrator, and enforcer mirrored the Kautilyan panel of dharmasthas and amatyas.


The Fatawa-i-Alamgiri, like the Arthashastra, was intensely practical. It covered contracts, marriage, divorce, inheritance, debt, evidence, and procedure. The Mughal courts, like Kautilya's, required written records of every case: the names of the parties, the nature of the dispute, the evidence presented, and the judgment rendered. The qazi's register was the equivalent of the Kautilyan court record, with its precise notation of year, season, month, fortnight, and date.


The Kautilyan principle that secret agreements are void found its Mughal parallel in the requirement that contracts be witnessed. A marriage without witnesses was invalid. A debt without a written bond or witnesses was unenforceable. The Mughal law, like the Arthashastra, distrusted transactions that hid from public view.


The four legs of law—Dharma, Vyavahara, Charitra, and Rajasasana—found their Mughal expression in the relationship between Sharia (sacred law), qazi judgments (evidence and precedent), urf (customary law), and the imperial farmans (royal edicts). The Mughal emperor, like the Kautilyan king, was the fountain of justice.


His edict could override custom. Custom could override a qazi's ruling. And the qazi's ruling, based on evidence, was the daily operation of the law.


The Fatawa-i-Alamgiri was not replaced until the British imposed Anglo-Indian law in the nineteenth century. The Mughal legal system, like the Mauryan before it, understood that justice required a hierarchy of sources, a panel of judges, a written record, and a king who stood at the apex, ensuring that reason and justice, not merely tradition, governed the land.


Takeaway


For the Nation: In modern India, the Kautilyan court system finds its descendants in the district courts, the High Courts, and the Supreme Court. The panel of three dharmasthas and three amatyas is the ancestor of the bench of judges and the jury of lay assessors.


The detailed registration of every case—the year, the parties, the nature of the dispute—is the modern plaint, written statement, and court record. The Kautilyan principle that secret agreements are void is the foundation of modern contract law: a contract made in secret, without witnesses, under duress, or by a person lacking capacity, is void or voidable.


The Kautilyan list of persons who cannot contract—minors, the intoxicated, the mentally unsound, dependents—is the ancestor of the modern law of capacity to contract, codified in the Indian Contract Act, 1872.


The Arthashastran best practice that endures is the hierarchy of legal sources. Dharma, Vyavahara, Charitra, and Rajasasana are the ancestors of the modern hierarchy: the Constitution (the king's edict, the supreme law), legislation (the edicts of the state), judicial precedent (evidence and history), and custom (the traditions of the people).


Kautilya's rule that the king's rational law overrides sacred law when the original text is unavailable is the seed of the modern principle that the Constitution overrides religious personal law. The king who administers justice with impartiality, in proportion to guilt, over his own son as over his enemy—that is the ideal of the modern constitutional state, however imperfectly realised.


For the Corporation: In the modern corporation, the Kautilyan court maps to the Internal Dispute Resolution mechanism, the Ethics Committee, the Whistleblower hotline, and the Contract Management system.


The principle that secret agreements are void is the foundation of the modern corporate contract: no agreement is binding unless it is documented, witnessed, approved through proper channels, and free of fraud.


The list of persons who cannot contract—dependents, the intoxicated, the mentally unsound—is the modern Delegation of Authority policy, which specifies exactly who can sign contracts, for what amounts, and under what conditions. An unauthorised employee who signs a contract binds no one.


The Arthashastran best practice for the corporation is the principle that procedural dishonesty—Parokta—is as serious as substantive wrongdoing. Kautilya punished lying in court, contradicting one's own statements, introducing irrelevant issues, and breaking off testimony with fines far heavier than the original dispute.


The modern corporation that tolerates dishonesty in internal investigations, that allows employees to lie to the Ethics Committee, or that permits managers to introduce irrelevant issues to deflect accountability is a corporation that will rot from within.


The Kautilyan penalty for Parokta was five times the amount at stake. The modern penalty is dismissal, reputational destruction, and legal liability. The principle is the same: a house built on lies will collapse under the weight of the truth.

Kūrmapura, the Court of Justice – Mid-Morning


The Court of Justice at Kūrmapura sat in a hall of grey stone on the western side of the central market, a low, severe building with a single door facing east.


Inside, the floor was paved with smooth granite, and the walls were unadorned except for a single inscription carved above the judges' bench: "Dharma, Vyavahara, Charitra, Rajasasana—the four legs of Law."


The bench itself was a long table of polished teak, behind which sat six chairs. Three were occupied by the dharmasthas, judges learned in the Deva-Shastra and the traditions of the kingdom. Three were occupied by the amatyas, ministers appointed by the king to ensure that justice was not merely a matter of scripture but of practical governance.


The presiding judge was an elderly man named Dharmagupta, a sage who had spent forty years studying the sacred texts and had served as a dharmastha under two kings. His voice was soft, but his eyes were sharp.


Beside him sat the two other judges, a woman named Shrutavati and a man named Vedananda. The three amatyas were Gajakesha, the Samaharta, whose knowledge of revenue and property law was unmatched; Rudravarma, the Senapati, representing the king's executive power; and Vamanagupta, silent and watchful as always, attending not because he needed to but because the king wished him to observe.


The case before them was a dispute over a debt. The plaintiff, a widow named Sujata, claimed that she had lent a sum of two hundred panas to the defendant, a merchant named Dhanapati, to finance a trading voyage to Panchasthavi.


The voyage had been successful, but Dhanapati had not repaid the loan. Sujata now sought recovery of the principal plus the agreed interest of twenty panas. Dhanapati denied that any such loan had been made.


The court scribe, a young man named Lekhapala, had already registered the details of the case as the law required. He read them aloud: "The year is the twelfth of King Simhavarma Sura. The season is Hemanta. The month is Margasirsha. The fortnight is the waxing moon. The date is the fifth day. The nature of the dispute is debt. The amount claimed is two hundred and twenty panas. The plaintiff is Sujata, widow of the merchant Vishnudasa, of the western quarter of Kūrmapura, of the mercantile community. The defendant is Dhanapati, son of Ratnadasa, also of the mercantile community, residing in the northern quarter."


Both parties were deemed fit to sue and defend. Sujata was a widow, but under the law, a widow without a living husband or son could conduct her own legal affairs, provided she was not incapacitated. Dhanapati was a merchant in good standing. The statements would now be taken.


Sujata spoke first. She was a woman of perhaps forty-five years, dressed in the white of mourning, her face lined but composed. "My lords, six months ago, the defendant came to my house at night. He said he had an opportunity to invest in a cargo of sapphires bound for Panchasthavi, but he lacked the capital. He asked me to lend him two hundred panas, promising to repay the principal with twenty panas interest upon the sale of the sapphires. I agreed. I gave him the money from my late husband's savings. The agreement was made in my house, at night, in the presence of my servant, a woman named Revati, who witnessed the transaction. The defendant signed a written bond, which I now present."


She placed a palm-leaf document on the table. The scribe examined it and confirmed that it bore Dhanapati's name and seal, though the seal was slightly smudged.


Dhanapati, a stout man with oiled hair and a tunic of expensive silk, rose to answer. "My lords, I deny the debt. The document is a forgery. The alleged agreement was made at night, inside a house, without any witness of standing. The servant Revati is a dependent of the plaintiff; her testimony is worthless. The law is clear: agreements made in seclusion, inside houses, in the dead of night, are void. I cannot be held to this alleged bond."


Dharmagupta, the presiding judge, raised a hand. "The law is clear, but the law also provides exceptions. Agreements relating to women who do not stir out are valid though made inside houses. The plaintiff is a widow in mourning. It is not customary for such a woman to conduct business in the marketplace. Was she confined to her home?"


"I was," Sujata said. "My husband died only a year ago. I have not left my house for any purpose other than temple worship and this court. All my business is conducted at home."


Shrutavati, the second judge, leaned forward. "The defendant does not deny that he visited the plaintiff's house at night. He only denies the debt. Why did he visit a widow's house at night if not for business?"


Dhanapati hesitated. "I... I was offering condolences. My late father knew her husband. It was a social call."


"At night?" Shrutavati's voice was dry. "A social call to a widow, at night, and you a married merchant? That is either a lie or an impropriety. Which is it?"


Dhanapati's face reddened. He began to speak, then stopped, then started again. "I meant—I visited to discuss a possible trade. But no agreement was reached. The document is forged."


Vedananda, the third judge, spoke for the first time. "The defendant's previous statement was that the visit was a social call. His subsequent statement is that it was a business discussion. He has contradicted himself. That is the first mark of Parokta."


Dhanapati began to sweat. "I am not a lawyer, my lords. I misspoke. The truth is—"


"The truth," Gajakesha interrupted, "will be determined by the witnesses. The plaintiff has presented a witness. Let the servant Revati be called."


Revati was an old woman, grey-haired and stooped, who had served Sujata's household for thirty years. She knelt before the bench and touched her forehead to the floor.


"Speak," Dharmagupta said.


"I was present, my lords. The merchant came at night. He and my mistress spoke in the inner chamber. I brought them water. I heard the merchant say, 'Two hundred panas, at twenty panas interest, repayable upon the sale of the sapphires.' I saw my mistress count out the coins from the strongbox. I saw the merchant sign the bond. It is no forgery. It is the truth."


Dhanapati burst out, "She is a servant! A dependent! Her testimony is biased!"


"The law does not exclude the testimony of dependents," Vedananda said. "It weighs it. And the witness's account is consistent with the plaintiff's statement and with the written bond. The defendant, by contrast, has contradicted himself. He has introduced a new explanation—the social call—that was not part of his original defence. He has broken off his answers and attempted to change the subject. These are all marks of Parokta."


Dharmagupta nodded. "The court finds that the agreement, though made at night and inside a house, falls within the exception for women who do not stir out. It is therefore valid. The defendant shall pay the plaintiff the principal of two hundred panas and the interest of twenty panas. Additionally, for the offence of Parokta—contradicting his own statements and attempting to mislead the court—he shall pay a fine of five times the amount in dispute: one thousand one hundred panas."


Dhanapati's face went grey. "My lords, that is more than my entire trading capital. I will be ruined."


"The law is not concerned with your capital," Gajakesha said. "It is concerned with your honesty. You attempted to defraud a widow of her savings. You lied to this court. The fine is prescribed. You will pay it."


Dhanapati was led away by the court guards, his silk tunic suddenly looking cheap and tawdry. Sujata received the signed decree that entitled her to collect her debt and the fine from the merchant's property. She touched her forehead to the floor and departed, Revati walking beside her.


After the court had emptied, Vamanagupta remained, standing before the inscription on the wall. Gajakesha joined him.


"The four legs of Law," Gajakesha said. "Dharma, Vyavahara, Charitra, Rajasasana. The widow had dharma—righteousness—on her side. The evidence—vyavahara—supported her. The tradition—charitra—recognises that widows in mourning do not conduct business in the street. And the king's law—rajasasana—gave the judges the power to punish the liar. All four legs held."


"And if one leg had been missing?" Vamanagupta asked.


"Then the case would have been harder. But the structure is sound. The law is not a single rope; it is a net. When one strand breaks, others hold." Gajakesha paused. "The merchant committed Parokta. He lied, contradicted himself, and tried to deflect. The fine was ruinous. Some might say it was too harsh."


"The sage Suracharya taught that the king who administers justice with impartiality and in proportion to guilt, over his own son or his enemy, maintains both this world and the next. The merchant was not the king's enemy. He was merely a liar. The fine was proportioned to the lie. That is not harshness. It is precision."


He turned from the inscription. "The widow will receive her money. The merchant will learn that the court is not a place for stratagems. And the people who hear of this case will know that agreements made in good faith will be upheld, even if they were made at night, in a widow's house, with only a servant to witness them. The law is the tortoise's shell, Gajakesha. It protects the weak and punishes the fraudulent. Today, it did both."

The Books of Arya Kalash by A. Royden D'Souza

Chapter II: Concerning Marriage — The Duty of Marriage, the Property of a Woman, and Compensations for Remarriage


Marriage precedes the other calls of life (vyavahara). The giving in marriage of a maiden well-adorned is called Brahma-marriage. The joint-performance of sacred duties by a man and a woman is known as prajapatya marriage.


The giving in marriage of a maiden for a couple of cows is called Arsha. The giving in marriage of a maiden to an officiating priest in a sacrifice is called Daiva. The voluntary union of a maiden with her lover is called Gandharva.


Giving a maiden after receiving plenty of wealth (sulka) is termed Asura. The abduction of a maiden is called Rakshasa. The abduction of a maiden while she is asleep and in intoxication is called Paisacha marriage.


Of these, the first four are ancestral customs of old and are valid on their being approved of by the father. The rest are to be sanctioned by both the father and the mother; for it is they that receive the money (sulka) paid by the bridegroom for their daughter.


In case of the absence by death of either the father or the mother, the survivor will receive the sulka. If both of them are dead, the maiden herself shall receive it. Any kind of marriage is approvable, provided it pleases all those that are concerned in it.


Property of Women: Means of subsistence (vritti) or jewellery (abadhya) constitutes what is called the property of a woman. Means of subsistence valued at above two thousand shall be endowed on her name. There is no limit to jewellery.


It is no guilt for the wife to make use of this property in maintaining her son, her daughter-in-law or herself whenever her absent husband has made no provision for her maintenance. In calamities, disease and famine, in warding off dangers and in charitable acts, the husband, too, may make use of this property. Neither shall there be any complaint against the enjoyment of this property by mutual consent by a couple who have brought forth a twin.


Nor shall there be any complaint if this property has been enjoyed for three years by those who are wedded in accordance with the customs of the first four kinds of marriage. But the enjoyment of this property in the cases of Gandharva and Asura marriages shall be liable to be restored together with interest on it.


In the case of such marriages as are called Rakshasa and Paisacha, the use of this property shall be dealt with as theft. Thus the duty of marriage is dealt with.


On the death of her husband a woman, desirous to lead a pious life, shall at once receive not only her endowment and jewellery (sthapyabharanam), but also the balance of sulka due to her. If both of these two things are not actually in her possession, though nominally given to her, she shall at once receive both of them together with interest on their value.


If she is desirous of a second marriage (kutumbakama), she shall be given on the occasion of her remarriage (nivesakale) whatever either her father-in-law or her husband or both had given to her. The time at which women can remarry shall be explained in connection with the subject of long sojourn of husbands.


If a widow marries any man other than of her father-in-law's selection (svasurapratilomyenanivishta), she shall forfeit whatever had been given to her by her father-in-law and her husband.


The kinsmen (gnatis) of a woman shall return to her whatever property of her own she had placed in their custody. Whoever justly takes a woman under his protection shall equally protect her property. No woman shall succeed in her attempt to establish her title to the property of her husband.


If she lives a pious life, she may enjoy it (dharmakama bhunjita). No woman with a son or sons shall be at liberty to make free use of her own property (stridhana); for that property of hers her sons shall receive.


If a woman attempts to take possession of her own property under the plea of maintaining her sons, she shall be made to endow it in their name. If a woman has many male children, then she shall conserve her own property in the same condition as she had received from her husband. Even that property which has been given her with full powers of enjoyment and disposal she shall endow in the name of her sons.


A barren widow who is faithful to the bed of her dead husband may, under the protection of her teacher, enjoy her property as long as she lives: for it is to ward off calamities that women are endowed with property. On her death, her property shall pass into the hands of her kinsmen (dayada). If the husband is alive and the wife is dead, then her sons and daughters shall divide her property among themselves.


If there are no sons, her daughters shall have it. In their absence her husband shall take that amount of money (sulka) which he had given her, and her relatives shall retake whatever in the shape of gift or dowry they had presented her. Thus the determination of the property of a woman is dealt with.


Remarriage of Males: If a woman either brings forth no live children, or has no male issue, or is barren, her husband shall wait for eight years before marrying another. If she bears only a dead child, he has to wait for ten years. If she brings forth only females, he has to wait for twelve years. Then if he is desirous to have sons, he may marry another.


In case of violating this rule, he shall be made to pay her not only sulka, her property (stridhana) and an adequate monetary compensation (adhivedanikamartham), but also a fine of 24 panas to the Government.


Having given the necessary amount of sulka and property (stridhana) even to those women who have not received such things on the occasion of their marriage with him, and also having given his wives the proportionate compensation and an adequate subsistence (vritti), he may marry any number of women; for women are created for the sake of sons.


If many or all of them are at the same time in menses, he shall lie with that woman among them, whom he married earlier or who has a living son. In case of his concealing the fact of her being in menses or neglecting to lie with any of them after her menses, he shall pay a fine of 96 panas. Of women who either have sons or are pious or barren, or bring forth only a dead child or are beyond the age of menstruation, none shall be associated with against her liking.


If a man has no inclination, he may not lie with his wife who is either afflicted with leprosy or is a lunatic. But if a woman is desirous of having sons, she may lie with men suffering from such disease.


If a husband either is of bad character or is long gone abroad or has become a traitor to his king or is likely to endanger the life of his wife or has fallen from his caste or has lost virility, he may be abandoned by his wife.


Duty of Marriage, the Property of a Woman, and Compensations for Remarriage

In Simple Terms


The main ideas from this chapter can be understood in these simple points:


The Eight Forms of Marriage: Kautilya recognises eight kinds of marriage, arranged in descending order of propriety. The first four—Brahma (a maiden given well-adorned), Prajapatya (joint sacred duties), Arsha (for a couple of cows), and Daiva (given to a priest)—are the ancestral customs, approved by the father alone.


The next two—Gandharva (voluntary union of lovers) and Asura (given for wealth, a bride-price)—require both parents' approval. The last two—Rakshasa (abduction) and Paisacha (abduction while asleep or intoxicated)—are clearly condemned. Any form is valid if it pleases all concerned. This is a pragmatic legal framework, not a moral absolute.


The Sulka — Bride-Price and Its Recipients: The sulka is the wealth given for a maiden. In the first four marriages, it goes to the father. In the next two, both father and mother receive it.


If one parent is dead, the survivor takes it. If both are dead, the maiden herself receives it. The sulka is not a purchase price—it is a transfer of wealth that marks the marriage contract, and its disposition is legally regulated.


A Woman's Property — Stridhana: A woman's separate property consists of her means of subsistence (vritti) and her jewellery (abadhya). If her subsistence endowment exceeds two thousand panas, it must be formally settled on her.


There is no upper limit to her jewellery. She may use this property freely to support herself, her son, or her daughter-in-law when her husband is absent and has not provided. The husband may also use it in emergencies—calamity, disease, famine, defence, or charity.


If a couple has had twins, or if they have been married three years under the first four forms, neither can complain about the other's use of this property. But in Gandharva and Asura marriages, such use must be repaid with interest. In Rakshasa and Paisacha, it is treated as theft. The form of marriage determines the property rights.


Widowhood — Piety or Remarriage: On her husband's death, a widow who chooses a pious life receives her endowment and jewellery immediately, plus any unpaid balance of her sulka, with interest. If she chooses to remarry, she receives what her father-in-law and husband gave her at the time of her remarriage.


But if she remarries without her father-in-law's approval, she forfeits everything they gave her. Her own family must return whatever property she entrusted to them. Whoever protects the widow must also protect her property.


No Woman Owns Her Husband's Estate: A woman cannot claim ownership of her husband's property. She may enjoy it during her lifetime if she lives piously, but it is not hers to dispose of. If she has sons, she cannot freely use even her own stridhana—that property is destined for her sons.


She may use it to maintain them, but she must eventually endow it in their names. A barren widow who remains faithful may enjoy her property for life under her teacher's protection, but on her death it passes to her husband's kinsmen.


Inheritance When a Wife Dies: If the wife dies first and the husband is alive, her sons and daughters divide her stridhana. If there are no sons, the daughters take it. If there are no children, the husband recovers the sulka he paid, and her relatives recover whatever gifts or dowry they gave. The property returns to its sources.


A Husband's Right to Remarry: A husband may remarry if his wife is barren—but he must wait. Eight years if she has no live children. Ten years if she bears only stillbirths. Twelve years if she bears only daughters. If he remarries before these periods, he must pay her sulka, her stridhana, compensation, and a fine of 24 panas.


Having provided for all his existing wives, he may marry as many as he likes—but he must observe a rotation among them based on seniority or motherhood. Concealing a wife's menstrual period or neglecting her incurs a fine of 96 panas.


A wife who has sons, is pious, is barren, has only stillbirths, or is past menopause cannot be approached against her will. A husband is not obliged to sleep with a wife who has leprosy or is insane. But a woman who desires sons may lie with a man who has such diseases.


A Wife's Right to Abandon Her Husband: A wife may abandon her husband if he is of bad character, long absent abroad, a traitor to the king, a danger to her life, an outcast, or impotent. The law does not trap women in dangerous or futile marriages. The grounds are specific and severe, but they exist.


Case Study: An Ancient King's Application


The Mughal imperial household provides a vivid case study of the Kautilyan principles of marriage and women's property in practice. The women of the Mughal harem—empresses, princesses, and noblewomen—were not merely ornaments.


They were substantial property-holders, and their rights were defined by a combination of Islamic law and customary practice that echoed Kautilyan norms.


The Mughal empress received a substantial marriage settlement, the mahr, which was her exclusive property—the Islamic equivalent of stridhana. Nur Jahan, wife of Jahangir, used her wealth to build caravanserais, gardens, and tombs.


She issued coins in her own name and signed imperial farmans. Her property was not her husband's; it was hers, and she disposed of it as she saw fit. Mumtaz Mahal, wife of Shah Jahan, owned vast estates, and her death in childbirth prompted the construction of the Taj Mahal, funded in part from the imperial treasury but also from her own endowments.


The Mughal princesses were similarly endowed. Jahanara Begum, Shah Jahan's daughter, inherited half of her mother's estate—the other half went to her brothers—and became one of the wealthiest women in the empire.


She used her wealth to build the Chandni Chowk in Delhi, a vast market and charitable complex. Her property was administered by her own officials, not by her father or brothers.


The Mughal harem also reflected the Kautilyan principle that a woman's property was ultimately destined for her children. The estates of deceased royal women passed to their sons and daughters. If a woman died childless, her property reverted to her natal family or to the imperial treasury, not to her husband.


The grounds for a wife to abandon her husband—bad character, long absence, danger to life—found their Mughal parallel in the practice of khula, the wife-initiated divorce, which could be granted by the qazi on grounds of cruelty, desertion, or impotence. A Mughal wife was not a prisoner of an intolerable marriage, any more than a Kautilyan wife was.


Takeaway


For the Nation: In modern India, the Kautilyan framework of marriage and women's property finds its descendants in the Hindu Succession Act, 1956, the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005, and the Hindu Marriage Act, 1955.


The concept of stridhana—a woman's separate property, consisting of her jewellery and her means of subsistence—survives in the legal recognition of a woman's absolute right over her own property. The Hindu Succession Act's 2005 amendment, which gave daughters equal coparcenary rights in ancestral property, is a modern extension of the Kautilyan principle that daughters inherit when there are no sons.


The Arthashastran best practice that endures is the recognition that marriage is both a sacrament and a contract, and that the contract creates enforceable rights.


The Kautilyan wife who was abandoned or whose husband took a second wife without providing for her had a legal remedy. The modern wife who is deserted or whose husband commits bigamy has the same.


The Kautilyan widow who could choose between piety and remarriage, with clearly defined property consequences for each choice, is the ancestor of the modern widow's right to remarry under the Hindu Widows' Remarriage Act, 1856, and to inherit under the Hindu Succession Act.


The Kautilyan grounds for a wife to abandon her husband—cruelty, desertion, treason, impotence—are substantially the same grounds on which a modern Indian wife may seek divorce or judicial separation. The law has changed in its details over two millennia, but its structure—the recognition of women's property, the enforceability of marital obligations, and the right of exit from a failed marriage—remains.

Kūrmapura, the Court of Justice – Mid-Morning, Four Days After the Debt Case


The court scribe, Lekhapala, had registered the case as the law required. He read aloud: "The year is the twelfth of King Simhavarma Sura. The season is Hemanta. The month is Margasirsha. The fortnight is the waxing moon. The date is the ninth day. The nature of the dispute is the recovery of a woman's property and the right to remarry. The plaintiff is Kamalini, widow of the goldsmith Satyavrata, daughter of the merchant Sridhara, of the western quarter of Kūrmapura. The defendant is Dhanasena, father of the late Satyavrata, also a goldsmith, of the same quarter."


The six chairs behind the polished teak bench were filled. Dharmagupta presided, with Shrutavati and Vedananda beside him. The three amatyas—Gajakesha, Rudravarma, and Vamanagupta—sat in their accustomed places. The case had drawn a larger crowd than usual, for it involved a woman's right to choose her future and the disposition of property that touched the lives of two young children.


Kamalini knelt before the bench. She was perhaps thirty years old, dressed in the white of mourning, her face pale but composed. Beside her stood a merchant named Yashodhana, a quiet man with steady eyes, who had been permitted to attend as her intended husband. Across from them knelt Dhanasena, a heavy, grey-bearded man with the powerful hands of a lifelong goldsmith. His expression was hard.


"Speak," Dharmagupta said to the plaintiff.


Kamalini touched her forehead to the floor and rose to her knees. "My lords, I was married to Satyavrata, son of Dhanasena, in a Brahma marriage eight years ago. My father, Sridhara, gave me a dowry of three thousand panas and jewellery worth another two thousand. My husband, on our wedding day, settled upon me a subsistence endowment of two thousand panas in accordance with the law. He was a good husband. We had two sons, now aged six and four. A year ago, he died of a fever."


Her voice faltered, then steadied. "I have lived a pious life since his death. But I am still young. I wish to remarry, to build a new household, to raise my sons with a father's guidance. Yashodhana, a merchant of good standing, has asked for my hand, and I have accepted. But my father-in-law, Dhanasena, refuses to release my property. He claims that if I remarry, I forfeit everything—my dowry, my jewellery, my endowment—and that I have no right to take my sons with me. He has also taken custody of the jewellery I wore daily, which he says belongs to his family. I ask the court to order the return of my property and to declare that I am free to remarry without forfeiture."


Dharmagupta turned to the defendant. "Dhanasena, you have heard the plaintiff. What is your answer?"


Dhanasena's voice was rough. "My lords, the woman is my daughter-in-law. She was married to my son in a Brahma marriage, approved by me as the father. She is the mother of my grandsons. The law says that a widow who remarries without her father-in-law's approval forfeits whatever was given to her by her husband and by me. I do not approve of this marriage. The merchant Yashodhana is a stranger. I have selected a suitable husband for her—my nephew, who will care for her and raise my grandsons. She refuses him. Therefore, she must forfeit."


"And the jewellery? The endowment?" Shrutavati asked.


"The jewellery was given to her by my son. The endowment was settled from my family's wealth. Both are now forfeit. As for her dowry from her own father, I do not dispute that it is hers, but it is held in trust for her sons. She cannot take it with her to a new husband."


Kamalini's voice rose. "My lords, the law does not make me a slave to my father-in-law. I have borne two sons. I have been faithful. I am not asking for my husband's estate—I know that belongs to my sons. I am asking for what is mine."


Vedananda spoke. "The plaintiff's marriage was Brahma, the first and highest form. In such a marriage, the sulka was given to her father, not to her. But her stridhana—her subsistence endowment and her jewellery—were given to her directly by her husband. The law is clear: on her husband's death, if she desires to lead a pious life, she receives her endowment and jewellery immediately, with interest if they have been withheld. If she desires to remarry, she receives whatever her father-in-law or husband gave her at the time of her remarriage. But if she remarries a man other than of her father-in-law's selection, she forfeits what her father-in-law and her husband gave her."


Gajakesha leaned forward. "The defendant has offered her a husband—his nephew. She has refused. Therefore, if she marries Yashodhana, she forfeits the endowment and the jewellery given by her husband and her father-in-law. But the law does not say she forfeits her own property—the dowry from her father, the gifts from her own kinsmen. Those are hers. And the law says her kinsmen must return to her whatever property she placed in their custody. Her father-in-law is not her kinsman; he is her husband's kinsman. The property her own family gave her is not his to withhold."


Dhanasena's face reddened. "And my grandsons? She wishes to take them to a stranger's house!"


Rudravarma spoke for the first time. "The plaintiff has not asked to take her sons. She has asked for her property and the right to remarry. The sons are the heirs of their father. They remain in the family. But their mother, even if she remarries, remains their mother. She does not forfeit that."


Vamanagupta, who had been silent, spoke at last. "The law also says that no woman shall succeed in her attempt to establish her title to the property of her husband. The plaintiff does not claim her husband's estate. She claims her own. The law is precise: means of subsistence and jewellery constitute a woman's property. The endowment of two thousand panas was given to her, not to her sons. She may use it to maintain herself, her sons, or her daughter-in-law, if her husband is absent and has not provided. But here the husband is dead. She is the widow. The law does not say she forfeits her own property upon remarriage. It says she forfeits what was given to her by her father-in-law and her husband. The jewellery given by her husband—that she forfeits. The endowment given by her husband—that she forfeits. But the dowry from her own father, the jewellery from her own mother—those are hers. They are not forfeit."


Dharmagupta nodded. "The court finds as follows. The plaintiff, Kamalini, was married in a Brahma marriage. She is entitled to her own stridhana—the dowry and gifts from her natal family. She is also entitled to any property held for her by her own kinsmen, which must be returned. The subsistence endowment and the jewellery given by her husband and her father-in-law are forfeit, because she has refused the husband selected by her father-in-law. She is free to remarry. Her sons remain the heirs of their father; their property is not at issue in this case. The defendant, Dhanasena, is ordered to return to the plaintiff all property that came to her from her own family, and to pay the costs of this suit."


Dhanasena bowed his head, his anger spent. Kamalini touched her forehead to the floor, tears streaming down her face. Yashodhana stepped forward and helped her rise.


After the court had emptied, Shrutavati remained, discussing the case with Vedananda. "The law seems harsh in some ways," she said. "She loses her husband's gifts because she refuses her father-in-law's choice. But she keeps her own family's wealth. The balance is there, but it is still a loss."


"The law does not pretend that remarriage is without cost," Vedananda replied. "It recognises that a widow who remarries outside her husband's family is choosing a new life. She cannot expect to carry her husband's wealth into another man's house. But she does not go empty-handed. She keeps what her own blood gave her. That is the balance."


"And the eight forms of marriage?" Shrutavati asked. "Does the outcome differ for a Gandharva wife?"


"It does. In a Gandharva marriage, if the husband uses the wife's property, he must repay it with interest. In a Rakshasa or Paisacha marriage, any use of her property is theft. The form of the marriage determines the rights that follow. The Brahma marriage is the highest; its rules are the most generous to the husband's family. But even in a Brahma marriage, the wife is not a chattel. She has rights. The law sees her."


Vamanagupta, passing by, paused. "The sage Suracharya wrote that any kind of marriage is approvable, provided it pleases all those that are concerned in it. The father-in-law was not pleased. The law respected his right to withhold approval—and extracted a price from the widow for defying him. But it did not make her a prisoner. The balance is imperfect, as all human balances are. But it holds."

The Books of Arya Kalash by A. Royden D'Souza

Chapter III: The Duty of a Wife; Maintenance of a Woman; Cruelty to Women; Enmity Between Husband and Wife; A Wife's Transgression; Her Kindness to Another; and Forbidden Transactions


Women, when twelve years old, attain their majority (praptavyavahara) and men when sixteen years old. If after attaining their majority, they prove disobedient to lawful authority (asusrushayam), women shall be fined 15 panas and men, twice the amount.


Maintenance of a Woman: A woman who has a right to claim maintenance for an unlimited period of time shall be given as much food and clothing (grasacchadana) as is necessary for her or more than is necessary in proportion to the income of the maintainer (yatha-purushaparivapam va).


If the period for which such things are to be given to her is limited, then a certain amount of money fixed in proportion to the income of the maintainer shall be given to her; so also if she has not been given her sulka, property, and compensation due to her for allowing her husband to remarry.


If after parting with her husband, she places herself under the protection of any one belonging to her father-in-law's family (svasrakula), or if she begins to live independently, then her husband shall not be sued for her maintenance. Thus the determination of maintenance is dealt with.


Cruelty to Women: Women of refractive nature shall be taught manners by using such general expressions as "Thou, half naked; thou, fully naked; thou, cripple; thou, fatherless; thou, motherless" (nagne vinagne nyange pitrke matrke vinagne ityanirdesena vinayagrahanam).


Or three beats either with a bamboo-bark or with a rope or with the palm of the hand may be given on her hips. Violation of the above rules shall be liable to half the punishment levied for defamation and criminal hurt.


The same kind of punishment shall be meted out to a woman who, moved with jealousy or hatred, shows cruelty to her husband. Punishments for engaging in sports at the door of, or outside her husband's house shall be as dealt with elsewhere. Thus cruelty to women is dealt with.


Enmity Between Husband and Wife: A woman, who hates her husband, who has passed the period of seven turns of her menses, and who loves another shall immediately return to her husband both the endowment and jewellery she has received from him, and allow him to lie down with another woman.


A man, hating his wife, shall allow her to take shelter in the house of a mendicant woman, or of her lawful guardians or of her kinsmen.


If a man falsely accuses his wife of adultery with one of her or his kinsmen or with a spy—an accusation which can only be proved by eyewitnesses (drishtilinge)—or falsely accuses her of her intention to deprive him of her company, he shall pay a fine of 12 panas.


A woman, hating her husband, cannot dissolve her marriage with him against his will. Nor can a man dissolve his marriage with his wife against her will. But from mutual enmity, divorce may be obtained (parasparam dveshanmokshah).


If a man, apprehending danger from his wife desires divorce (mokshamichhet), he shall return to her whatever she was given on the occasion of her marriage.


If a woman, under the apprehension of danger from her husband, desires divorce, she shall forfeit her claim to her property; marriages contracted in accordance with the customs of the first four kinds of marriages cannot be dissolved.


Transgression: If a woman engages herself in amorous sports, or drinking in the face of an order to the contrary, she shall be fined 3 panas. She shall pay a fine of 6 panas for going out at day time to sports or to see a woman or spectacles.


She shall pay a fine of 12 panas if she goes out to see another man or for sports. For the same offences committed at night, the fines shall be doubled. If a woman abducts another woman while the latter is asleep or under intoxication (suptamatta-pravrajane), or if she drags her husband as far as the door of the house, she shall be fined 12 panas.


If a woman leaves her house at night, she shall pay double the above fine. If a man and a woman make signs to each other with a view to sensual enjoyment, or carry on secret conversation for the same purpose, the woman shall pay a fine of 24 panas, and the man, double the amount.


A woman, holding out her hair, the tie of her dress round her loins, her teeth or her nails, shall pay the first amercement, and a man, doing the same, twice the first amercement.


For holding conversation in suspicious places, whips may be substituted for fines. In the centre of the village, an outcaste person (chandala) may whip such women five times on each of the sides of their body. She may get rid of being whipped by paying a pana for each whip (panikam va praharam mokshayet). Thus transgression is dealt with.


Forbidden Transactions: With regard to a man and a woman who, though forbidden to carry on any mutual transaction, help each other, the woman shall be fined 12, 24 and 54 panas respectively according as the help consists of small things, of heavy things and of gold or gold-coin (hiranyasuvarnayoh); and the man, at double the above rates.


With regard to similar transaction between a man and a woman who cannot mix with each other (agamvayoh), half of the above punishment shall be levied.


Similar punishment shall be meted out for any forbidden transaction with any men. Thus forbidden transactions are dealt with.


Treason, transgression and wandering at will shall deprive a woman of her claim not only to stridhana, some form of subsistence of above 2,000 panas and jewellery, and ahita, compensation she may have obtained for allowing her husband to marry another woman, but also to sulka, money which her parents may have received from her husband.


Duty of a Wife; Maintenance of a Woman; Cruelty to Women; Enmity Between Husband and Wife; A Wife's Transgression; Her Kindness to Another; and Forbidden Transactions

In Simple Terms


The main ideas from this chapter can be understood in these simple points:


The Age of Majority: Women become legally responsible at twelve, men at sixteen. After this age, disobedience to lawful authority is punishable: 15 panas for women, 30 for men. The law recognises that adulthood brings accountability.


A Wife's Right to Maintenance: A woman entitled to maintenance shall receive food and clothing proportional to her husband's income—or more, if his income allows. If the maintenance period is limited, a fixed sum is set.


If she has not received her sulka, property, and compensation for allowing her husband to remarry, these too are included in the maintenance calculation.


But if she leaves her husband and places herself under her father-in-law's family's protection, or if she lives independently, her husband is no longer liable for her support. Maintenance is conditional on her remaining within the marital framework.


Cruelty — What is Permitted and What is Not: This is one of the more uncomfortable passages in the Arthashastra. A wife who is disobedient may be verbally rebuked with harsh words—calling her "half-naked," "fully naked," "cripple," "fatherless," "motherless."


She may be struck three times on the hips with a bamboo bark, a rope, or the palm of the hand. Anything beyond this—more severe beating, striking elsewhere on the body—is punishable as defamation and criminal hurt.


The law does not prohibit physical chastisement entirely, but it strictly limits it. A wife who, out of jealousy or hatred, is cruel to her husband receives the same punishment. The law is symmetrical: cruelty by either spouse is punished equally.


When a Wife Hates Her Husband: If a wife hates her husband, has passed seven menstrual periods without reconciliation, and loves another man, she must return all the endowment and jewellery her husband gave her and permit him to sleep with another woman.


She cannot simply leave; she must surrender her property first. If a husband hates his wife, he must allow her to take shelter with a mendicant woman, her guardians, or her kinsmen.


A man who falsely accuses his wife of adultery—an accusation that requires eyewitness proof—or falsely accuses her of planning to leave him, is fined 12 panas.


Divorce — Only by Mutual Consent: Neither spouse can unilaterally dissolve a marriage. A wife cannot divorce her husband against his will, nor a husband his wife. But if both hate each other, divorce is permitted by mutual consent (parasparam dveshanmokshah).


If a husband seeks divorce because he fears danger from his wife, he must return everything she was given at marriage. If a wife seeks divorce because she fears danger from her husband, she forfeits her property. And marriages of the first four kinds—Brahma, Prajapatya, Arsha, and Daiva—cannot be dissolved at all. The higher the form of marriage, the more permanent it is.


A Wife's Transgressions and Their Penalties: The law regulates a wife's conduct with minute precision. Disobeying an order against amorous sports or drinking: 3 panas. Going out in daytime to sports, to see a woman, or to spectacles: 6 panas.


Going out to see another man or for sports: 12 panas. All these fines are doubled if the offence occurs at night. Abducting another woman who is asleep or intoxicated, or dragging her husband to the door: 12 panas. Leaving the house at night: double that fine.


If a man and woman make signs to each other for sensual purposes or hold secret conversations, the woman pays 24 panas, the man double. If a woman holds out her hair, the tie of her dress, her teeth, or her nails—presumably in a provocative or aggressive gesture—she pays the first amercement; a man doing the same pays double.


Whipping as Punishment: For holding conversations in suspicious places, whipping may replace fines. In the centre of the village, an outcaste may whip the woman five times on each side of her body. She may avoid the whipping by paying one pana per stroke. This is a public humiliation designed to shame the woman and deter others.


Forbidden Transactions: If a man and woman who are forbidden to deal with each other nevertheless help each other, the woman is fined according to the value of what was exchanged: 12 panas for small things, 24 for heavy things, 54 for gold or gold coins.


The man pays double. If they are of a class that cannot mix at all, the fines are halved—perhaps because the offence is less expected and therefore less culpable, or because the social distance makes the transaction less serious.


The Ultimate Penalty — Forfeiture of All Property: Treason, transgression, and wandering at will strip a woman of everything: her stridhana (subsistence and jewellery), her compensation for allowing her husband to remarry, and even the sulka her parents received.


This is the nuclear option. A woman who betrays the kingdom, repeatedly violates the law, or simply leaves without permission loses every financial protection the law otherwise provides.


Case Study: An Ancient King's Application


The Mughal imperial harem provides a rich case study of the Kautilyan principles of wifely duty, maintenance, and transgression. The women of the zenana lived under strict rules that mirrored the Arthashastra's provisions.


They could not leave the harem without permission. Their movements were monitored by eunuch guards and female superintendents. Their visitors were vetted. A princess who wished to go out to a garden or a mosque required the emperor's explicit approval and travelled in a covered palanquin.


Yet within these constraints, Mughal royal women exercised considerable autonomy. Nur Jahan, Jahangir's wife, effectively ruled the empire from within the harem. She issued farmans, had coins struck in her name, and led military expeditions.


Her transgressions—if they can be called that—were not punished because they were authorised by her husband. The Kautilyan wife who disobeyed an order was fined; the Mughal wife who acted with her husband's consent was empowered.


The Kautilyan rule that a wife who hates her husband and loves another must return her property and permit him to remarry finds a Mughal parallel in the practice of khula, the wife-initiated divorce. A Mughal wife who sought divorce had to surrender her mahr—her marriage settlement—and return to her natal family.


The Kautilyan rule that divorce by mutual consent is permitted, but unilateral divorce is not, was the foundation of both Hindu and Islamic marriage law in India for centuries.


The Mughal punishment for a wife's serious transgression—particularly adultery—could be far harsher than Kautilya's fines. European travellers record that a wife caught in adultery might be executed, immured, or thrown from a height.


The Arthashastra's graduated fines and limited corporal punishment represent a more moderate, legalistic approach than the absolute power of the Mughal emperor over his household.


In Modern Times


In modern India, the Kautilyan provisions on wifely duty have been almost entirely superseded. The age of majority is now 18 for both men and women. The Hindu Marriage Act, 1955, allows divorce on multiple grounds, including cruelty and desertion, and does not require mutual consent in all cases.


The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005, criminalises the very conduct—verbal abuse, physical beating—that Kautilya permitted within limits. The modern law does not fine a wife for going out without permission or for speaking to a man. The Kautilyan world, in which a wife's movements, speech, and even gestures were regulated by the state, is gone.


But the Kautilyan principle that maintenance is a right survives. A wife who is deserted or divorced is entitled to maintenance under the Hindu Adoption and Maintenance Act, 1956, and the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1973.


The amount is proportional to the husband's income, exactly as Kautilya prescribed. The Kautilyan rule that a wife who lives independently forfeits maintenance is echoed in the modern rule that a wife who is living in adultery or who refuses to live with her husband without sufficient reason may be denied maintenance.


The Arthashastran best practice that endures is the principle that marriage creates enforceable obligations. The Kautilyan wife could sue for maintenance. The modern wife can do the same. The law no longer regulates her conduct, but it still enforces her rights.

Kūrmapura, the Court of Justice – Late Morning, One Week After the Widow's Case


The court scribe, Lekhapala, read the registration aloud: "The year is the twelfth of King Simhavarma Sura. The season is Hemanta. The month is Margasirsha. The fortnight is the waning moon. The date is the second day. The nature of the dispute is a husband's petition for divorce and a wife's counterclaim for maintenance.


The plaintiff is Somaraja, a merchant of the northern quarter of Kūrmapura, of the mercantile community. The defendant is his wife, Nandini, daughter of the spice-merchant Gandharadatta, of the same quarter."


The six judges sat behind the teak bench. Dharmagupta presided. Shrutavati and Vedananda flanked him. Gajakesha, Rudravarma, and Vamanagupta occupied the amatyas' chairs.


Somaraja spoke first. He was a tall, thin man with a nervous manner, his fingers twisting the hem of his tunic. "My lords, I seek divorce from my wife, Nandini. She hates me. She has refused to share my bed for more than seven months—well past the seven turns of her menses that the law prescribes. She speaks to me only in insults.


She has told me she loves another man. I can no longer live with her. I ask the court to dissolve the marriage and to order her to return the endowment and jewellery I gave her at our wedding, as the law provides."


Nandini stood. She was a woman of perhaps twenty-five, her face proud, her voice steady. "My lords, I do not love my husband. I have not loved him since the second year of our marriage, when he began to drink heavily and to strike me. He did not limit himself to three blows on the hips with a rope or a palm. He beat me with a stick, on my back, on my arms, on my face. I have scars. I can show them."


She began to lift her sleeve. Shrutavati raised a hand. "That will not be necessary. The court will examine the evidence. Continue."


"I wished to leave him then, but I had nowhere to go. My father is dead. My brothers are abroad. I had no kinsmen in the city. So I stayed. I did my duty. I kept his house. I bore him no children—he was too drunk to father them, I believe. And now he comes to this court and claims that I hate him and love another. I do not love another man. I love no one. I simply cannot bear to be touched by a man who has beaten me. The law says that a woman who hates her husband and loves another must return his gifts and let him remarry. I am prepared to let him remarry. But I do not believe I should forfeit my property. He has broken the law of cruelty. He has beaten me beyond what the law permits. He is not entitled to divorce on his terms."


Vedananda leaned forward. "The plaintiff claims you have passed seven turns of your menses without reconciliation. Is this true?"


"It is. I have not shared his bed in eight months."


"And you have told him you hate him?"


"I have told him I cannot bear his touch. If that is hatred, then yes."


Dharmagupta turned to Somaraja. "The defendant says you beat her with a stick, on her back and arms and face. The law permits three blows on the hips with a rope or a palm. Anything beyond that is criminal hurt. Is her accusation true?"


Somaraja's face went pale. "My lords, she exaggerates. She was a disobedient wife. I disciplined her as the law allows."


"We will hear witnesses," Shrutavati said.


The court called the neighbours. An old woman named Tarini testified that she had heard Nandini screaming on multiple occasions. A young man named Puranjaya testified that he had seen Somaraja strike his wife in the face in the street outside their house.


A physician named Dhanvantari produced a record of treating Nandini for bruises and a cracked rib three years earlier. The evidence was overwhelming.


Dharmagupta spoke the judgment. "The court finds that the plaintiff, Somaraja, has committed cruelty against his wife beyond what the law permits. He has beaten her with a stick, on her back, arms, and face, causing injury. For this, he shall pay the fine for criminal hurt: half the punishment for defamation and hurt, which is the first amercement. The court further finds that the defendant, Nandini, has indeed passed seven turns of her menses without reconciliation, and has expressed hatred for her husband. But her hatred is not without cause. She does not love another man. She merely cannot bear the touch of a man who has beaten her. The law does not compel a woman to submit to a husband who has broken the law of cruelty against her."


"The plaintiff's petition for divorce is denied. The marriage is of the first four kinds—a Brahma marriage—and cannot be dissolved except by mutual consent, which is not present. However, the defendant is entitled to maintenance. The plaintiff shall provide her with food and clothing in proportion to his income, and she shall be permitted to live apart from him, in the house of a kinsman or a mendicant woman or a guardian, as she chooses. He shall not compel her to return. If he wishes to remarry, he may do so after providing for her maintenance and paying her the compensation the law requires. But he shall not divorce her against her will."


Somaraja bowed his head, defeated. Nandini stood very still, tears streaming down her face.


After the court had emptied, Shrutavati said to Vedananda, "We denied the divorce, but we freed her from him. The law does not always say what it seems to say. He thought the provision about a wife who hates her husband would give him his freedom. But the law also says that cruelty beyond the permitted limits is punished. He forgot that part."


"The law is a net," Vedananda replied. "He walked into it thinking he was the fisherman. He discovered he was the fish."


Vamanagupta, passing by, paused. "The sage Suracharya wrote that a man who falsely accuses his wife of adultery shall be fined. This man accused her of loving another. She did not. He accused her of hatred without cause. She had cause. The law listens to the husband, but it also listens to the wife. The balance is not always perfect, but it is always there."

Chapter IV: Vagrancy, Elopement and Short and Long Sojournments


If under any other excuse than danger, a woman gets out of her husband's house, she shall be fined 6 panas. If she gets out against the order of her husband to the contrary, she shall be fined 12 panas.


If she goes beyond her neighbouring house (prativesagrihatigatayah), she shall be fined 6 panas. If she allows into her house her neighbour, takes into her house the alms of any mendicant, or the merchandise of any merchant, she shall be fined 12 panas.


If she deals as above though expressly forbidden, she shall be punished with the first amercement. If she goes out beyond the surrounding houses (parigrihatigatayam), she shall be fined 24 panas.


If under any other excuse than danger, she takes into her house the wife of another man, she shall be fined 100 panas. But she will not be guilty if the entrance is effected without her knowledge or against her orders to the contrary.


My teacher says: With a view to avoid danger, it is no offence for women to go to any male person who is a kinsman of her husband, or is a rich and prosperous gentleman (sukhavastha), or is the head-man of the village or is one of her guardians (anvadhikula), or who belongs to the family of a mendicant woman, or to any one of her own kinsmen.


But Kautilya questions: How is it possible for good women (sadhvijana) to know at least this fact that the family of her own kinsmen consisting of a number of males is good? It is no offence for women to go to the houses of kinsmen under the circumstances of death, disease, calamities, and confinement of women.


Whoever prevents her going under such circumstances, shall be fined 12 panas. If a woman conceals herself under such circumstances, she shall forfeit her endowment.


If her kinsmen conceal her (with a view to exempt her from giving her aid under such circumstances), they shall lose the balance of sulka, money due to them from her husband for giving her in marriage. Thus vagrancy is dealt with.


Elopement or Criminal Rendezvous: If leaving her husband's house, a woman goes to another village, she shall not only pay a fine of 12 panas, but also forfeit her endowment and jewels (sthapyabharanalopascha).


If under any other excuse than receiving her subsistence or pilgrimage (bharmadanatirthagamanabhyamanyatra), a woman goes to any other place even in company with an associable man, she shall not only pay a fine of 24 panas, but also lose all kinds of social privileges (sarvadharmalopascha).


But the man who allows such a woman to accompany him in his journey shall be punished with the first amercement. If both of them (man and woman) have similar ideals in life (tulyasreyasoh) and are of sinful life (papiyasoh), each of them shall be punished with the middlemost amercement.


If he whom a woman accompanies in her journey is her near relative, he shall not be punished. If a relative allows a woman to accompany him, though he is forbidden, he shall be punished with half the above fine (middlemost amercement).


If on a road, or in the middle of a forest, or in any other concealed places a woman falls into the company of any other man, or if, with a view to enjoyment, she accompanies a suspicious or forbidden man, she shall be guilty of elopement (sangrahanam vidyat).


It is no offence for women to fall into the company of actors, players, singers, fishermen, hunters, herdsmen, vintners, or persons of any other kind who usually travel with their women. If a man takes a woman with him on his journey, though forbidden to do so, or if a woman accompanies a man though she is forbidden to do so, half of the above fines shall be meted out to them. Thus elopement is dealt with.


Remarriage of Women: Wives who belong to Sudra, Vaisya, Kshatriya or Brahman caste, and who have not given birth to children should wait as long as a year for their husbands who have gone abroad for a short time; but if they are such as have given birth to children, they should wait for their absent husbands for more than a year.


If they are provided with maintenance, they should wait for twice the period of time just mentioned. If they are not so provided with, their well-to-do gnatis should maintain them either for four or eight years. Then the gnatis should leave them to marry after taking what had been presented to them on the occasion of their marriages.


If the husband is a Brahmin, studying abroad, his wife who has no issue should wait for him for ten years; but if she has given birth to children, she should wait for twelve years.


If the husband is of Kshatriya caste, his wife should wait for him till her death; but even if she bears children to a savarna husband, (i.e., a second husband belonging to the same gotra as that of the former husband) with a view to avoid the extinction of her race, she shall not be liable to contempt thereof (savarnatascha prajata na pavadam labheta).


If the wife of an absent husband lacks maintenance and is deserted by well-to-do gnatis, she may remarry one whom she likes and who is in a position to maintain her and relieve her misery.


A young wife (kumari) who is wedded in accordance with the customs of the first four kinds of marriage (dharmavivahat), and whose husband has gone abroad and is heard of shall wait for him for the period of seven menses (saptatirthanyakanksheta), provided she has not publicly announced his name; but she shall wait for him a year in case of her having announced the name of her absent husband who is heard of.


In the case of a husband who is gone abroad but who is not heard of, his wife shall wait for the period of five menses, but if the absent husband is not heard of, his wife shall wait for him for the period of ten menses.


In the case of a husband who is gone abroad and is not heard of, his wife shall, if she has received only a part of sulka from him, wait for him for the period of three menses; but if he is heard of, she shall wait for him for the period of seven menses.


A young wife who has received the whole amount of sulka shall wait for the period of five menses for her absent husband who is not heard of; but if he is heard of, she shall wait for him for the period of ten menses.


Then with the permission of judges (dharma-sthairvisrishta), she may marry one whom she likes; for neglect of intercourse with wife after her monthly ablution is, in the opinion of Kautilya, a violation of one's duty (tirthoparodho hi dharmavadha iti Kautilyah).


In the case of husbands who have long gone abroad (dirghapravasinah), who have become ascetics, or who have been dead, their wives, having no issue, shall wait for them for the period of seven menses; but if they have given birth to children, they shall wait for a year. Then each of these women may marry the brother of her husband.


If there are a number of brothers to her lost husband, she shall marry such a one of them as is next in age to her former husband, or as is virtuous and is capable of protecting her, or one who is the youngest and unmarried.


If there are no brothers to her lost husband, she may marry one who belongs to the same gotra as her husband's or relative. But if there are many such persons as can be selected in marriage, she shall choose one who is a nearer relation of her lost husband.


If a woman violates the above rule by remarrying one who is not a kinsman (dayada) of her husband, then the woman and the man who remarry each other, those that have given her in remarriage and those who have given their consent to it shall all be liable to the punishment for elopement.


Vagrancy, Elopement and Short and Long Sojournments

In Simple Terms


The main ideas from this chapter can be understood in these simple points:


A Wife's Movements Are Regulated: The law imposes a graduated scale of fines for a wife leaving her home without permission. Going out without cause: 6 panas. Going out against her husband's explicit order: 12 panas.


Going beyond the neighbouring house: 6 panas. Going beyond the surrounding houses: 24 panas. Letting a neighbour in, or accepting alms or merchandise: 12 panas. If she does any of these after being expressly forbidden, the fine rises to the first amercement—a substantial penalty. Taking another man's wife into her house without cause: 100 panas. The law treats a woman's home as a defined space, and her presence within it as a legal obligation.


Exceptions for Danger and Kinship: The law is not absolute. A woman may leave her house without penalty to seek help from her husband's kinsmen, a wealthy gentleman, a village headman, her guardians, a mendicant woman's family, or her own kinsmen—but only to avoid danger. Kautilya's teacher held that this was a broad permission.


Kautilya himself is sceptical: how can a good woman know whether a kinsman's household, full of males, is safe? He limits the exception to specific emergencies: death, disease, calamities, and childbirth. Anyone who prevents a woman from going to her kinsmen in these circumstances is fined 12 panas.


But if a woman hides herself during such emergencies—to avoid helping—she forfeits her endowment. If her kinsmen hide her, they lose the balance of the sulka still owed by her husband. The law demands that a woman be available to her family in crisis, and punishes those who obstruct this duty from either side.


Elopement and Its Penalties: Leaving her husband's house to go to another village is a serious offence: a fine of 12 panas and forfeiture of her endowment and jewellery.


Going to any other place, even with a man who may associate with her, unless she is collecting maintenance or on pilgrimage: a fine of 24 panas and loss of all social privileges. The man who accompanies her is punished with the first amercement.


If both are of similar sinful character, each receives the middlemost amercement. A near relative who accompanies her is not punished unless he was forbidden to do so, in which case he pays half the fine.


If a woman is found with a man on a road, in a forest, or in a concealed place, or if she accompanies a suspicious or forbidden man for enjoyment, she is guilty of elopement.


But it is no offence for women to travel with actors, singers, fishermen, hunters, herdsmen, vintners, or others who normally travel with their women. These are recognised as itinerant communities where women move freely. The law distinguishes between a wife who absconds and a woman who belongs to a travelling profession.


Waiting for an Absent Husband — The General Rules: The chapter provides an elaborate schedule of how long a wife must wait for a husband who has gone abroad. The waiting period varies by caste, by whether she has borne children, by whether she is provided with maintenance, and by whether the husband is heard from or not.


For short sojourns: a wife without children waits one year; a wife with children waits more than one year. If she is maintained, the waiting period doubles. If she is not maintained, her well-to-do kinsmen must support her for four or eight years. After that, they may marry her to another man, taking back what they gave at her wedding.


For a Brahmin husband studying abroad: a childless wife waits ten years; a wife with children waits twelve years. For a Kshatriya husband: his wife waits until her death—but if she bears children by a man of the same caste to prevent the extinction of the lineage, she is not blamed.


The most striking provision: if a wife lacks maintenance and is deserted by her well-to-do kinsmen, she may remarry anyone she likes who can support her. The law does not leave a woman to starve while her husband is absent. Maintenance is the condition of waiting. Without it, the obligation ends.


Waiting for an Absent Husband: The Young Wife: A young wife married under the first four forms, whose husband is abroad and heard from, waits seven months if she has not publicly announced his name, or one year if she has.


If he is not heard from, the waiting periods are five months (if she received only part of her sulka) or three months (if she is unheard from and partially paid). A young wife who received her full sulka waits five months if he is unheard from, ten months if he is heard from.


Then, with the permission of the judges, she may marry whom she likes. Kautilya adds a powerful justification: neglect of intercourse with a wife after her monthly ablution is a violation of duty. A husband who abandons his wife sexually abandons his claim to her fidelity.


Remarriage Within the Family: For husbands who have gone abroad for a long time, become ascetics, or died: a childless wife waits seven months; a wife with children waits one year.


Then she may marry her husband's brother—preferably the one next in age, or the most virtuous and protective, or the youngest and unmarried. If there are no brothers, she may marry a man of the same gotra or a relative, choosing the nearest relation.


This is levirate marriage, designed to keep the widow and her children within the husband's family and to preserve the lineage.


If a woman violates this rule and marries outside the husband's family, she, her new husband, those who gave her in remarriage, and those who consented are all punished as if for elopement. The family's claim on the widow is legally enforced.


Case Study: An Ancient King's Application


The Mughal Empire, like many medieval Indian polities, practiced forms of levirate marriage that echoed the Kautilyan rules. When a Mughal nobleman died, his widow was often married to his brother or a close kinsman, particularly if she was of childbearing age and had young children. This practice, known in Islamic law as nikah halala in some contexts, kept property within the family and ensured the continuation of the lineage.


The Mughal chronicles record several instances of royal widows remarrying within the family. After the death of Prince Dara Shikoh, his widow Nadira Banu Begum did not remarry—she died shortly after him—but the principle was established. The Mughal harem was a complex web of marriages that frequently involved cousins, brothers' widows, and other close relations, all designed to consolidate power and property.


The Kautilyan waiting periods find their Mughal parallel in the iddat, the Islamic waiting period of four months and ten days (or until delivery, if pregnant) before a widow or divorced woman could remarry. The iddat served the same purpose as the Kautilyan waiting periods: to establish paternity, to allow for mourning, and to provide a structured transition. The Mughal qazi courts enforced these waiting periods, and a woman who remarried before her iddat expired was punished.


The Kautilyan exception for the wife who lacks maintenance—she may remarry immediately—finds no direct Mughal parallel. Islamic law required the husband's family or the community to support the widow during her iddat. The Arthashastra is more pragmatic: if no one will feed her, she may find someone who will. The principle is harsher in its realism and more protective of the woman's immediate survival.


In Modern Times


In modern India, the Kautilyan regulation of a wife's movements has been entirely superseded. A woman has the constitutional right to move freely, to work, to travel, and to associate with whomever she chooses. The fines for leaving the house without permission are relics of a legal world that no longer exists.


The waiting periods for remarriage survive in vestigial form. The Hindu Marriage Act, 1955, requires a one-year waiting period before a decree of divorce can be granted, and a divorced woman must wait one year before remarrying (Section 15).


The Special Marriage Act, 1954, has similar provisions. These modern waiting periods are not about paternity or fidelity; they are cooling-off periods, designed to allow for reconciliation and to prevent hasty remarriages. But they descend, however distantly, from the Kautilyan schedule.


The Kautilyan rule that a wife who lacks maintenance may remarry immediately finds its modern expression in the right to maintenance pendente lite—maintenance during the pendency of a divorce case—and the right to permanent alimony.


The modern wife is not required to wait indefinitely for a husband who has abandoned her; she may seek divorce on grounds of desertion (after two years) and claim maintenance. The Kautilyan principle that maintenance is the condition of waiting has become the modern principle that maintenance is a right, not a conditional gift.

Kūrmapura, the Court of Justice – Mid-Morning, Two Weeks After the Wife's Case


The court scribe, Lekhapala, read the registration aloud: "The year is the twelfth of King Simhavarma Sura. The season is Hemanta. The month is Margasirsha. The fortnight is the waxing moon. The date is the eleventh day. The nature of the dispute is a petition for permission to remarry after a husband's long absence. The petitioner is Revati, wife of the merchant Chandravarma, daughter of the goldsmith Dhananjaya, of the eastern quarter of Kūrmapura. The opposing party is Somadatta, brother of the absent Chandravarma, also a merchant, of the same quarter."


The six chairs behind the teak bench were filled. Dharmagupta presided, his soft voice and sharp eyes unchanged. Shrutavati and Vedananda flanked him. Gajakesha, Rudravarma, and Vamanagupta sat as amatyas. The case had drawn a small crowd, for it involved a woman who sought to end the limbo of an absent husband and begin a new life.


Revati knelt before the bench. She was perhaps twenty-two years old, her face thin, her hands clasped tightly. Beside her stood a young merchant named Ratnadatta, quiet and steady, who waited to speak if called. Across from them knelt Somadatta, a heavyset man with a hard, closed face.


"Speak," Dharmagupta said to the petitioner.


Revati touched her forehead to the floor and rose to her knees. "My lords, I was married to Chandravarma, brother of Somadatta, in a Brahma marriage four years ago. My father gave me a dowry, and my husband paid my father the sulka—half at the wedding, half to be paid later. A year and a half ago, my husband sailed for Panchasthavi on a trading voyage. He was to return within six months. He has not returned. No word has come from him. No ship has brought a letter. No merchant has heard his name. He is unheard of."


Her voice shook, then steadied. "I waited. I waited five months, as the law requires for a young wife who has received part of her sulka. I waited longer—nine months more, a year and two months in all. I lived on my dowry, for my husband left me no maintenance. His family—Somadatta and his brothers—gave me nothing. They said I should wait longer. They said I should wait until they gave me permission. But the law does not say I must wait forever. I ask the court to grant me permission to remarry. The merchant Ratnadatta has offered me his protection and his home. He will maintain me. I wish to marry him."


Somadatta's voice was rough and quick. "My lords, she is my brother's wife. My brother may yet return. The sea is wide, and ships are delayed. She has only waited a year and two months. That is nothing. My brother paid the sulka—half of it. She is still bound to him. She cannot remarry without our consent. And we do not consent."


Shrutavati leaned forward. "The law does not require your consent. It requires the consent of the judges, after the prescribed waiting period has passed. The petitioner was married in a Brahma marriage, the first and highest form. She is a young wife—a kumari. Her husband is gone abroad and is not heard of. She received part of her sulka. The waiting period for such a wife is three months. She has waited more than a year. The period has expired."


Somadatta's face reddened. "Three months? That is for a wife who has received only part of her sulka. But my brother paid half. Half is not nothing. She should wait longer."


Vedananda spoke. "The law is precise. A young wife who has received the whole amount of sulka shall wait five months if her husband is not heard of. A young wife who has received only a part shall wait three months. The petitioner received half—a part, not the whole. The waiting period is three months. She has waited fourteen. The law does not ask whether the family consents. It asks whether the time has passed. It has."


Gajakesha leaned forward. "The petitioner also states that she received no maintenance from her husband or his family. The law says that if a wife of an absent husband lacks maintenance and is deserted by well-to-do gnatis, she may remarry one whom she likes and who is in a position to maintain her and relieve her misery. The petitioner's gnatis—her husband's family—have not maintained her. They have not relieved her misery. They have left her to live on her dowry. The law permits her to remarry."


Somadatta's voice rose. "And the sulka? My brother paid half. That money belongs to our family. If she remarries, she must return it."


Dharmagupta raised a hand. "The law does not require the return of sulka when a wife remarries after the waiting period with the permission of the judges. The sulka is the bride-price, paid to her father. It is not a loan. It is not forfeit upon remarriage. Your brother paid it for the marriage. The marriage existed. The sulka is not recoverable."


Vamanagupta, silent until now, spoke. "The sage Suracharya wrote that neglect of intercourse with a wife after her monthly ablution is a violation of duty. A husband who goes abroad and leaves his wife without word, without maintenance, without provision, has violated his duty. The waiting periods are the law's grace to the absent husband. When they expire, the wife is free. The petitioner has waited more than three times the required period. She is free."


Dharmagupta nodded. "The court finds as follows. The petitioner, Revati, was married in a Brahma marriage. Her husband has been absent abroad for more than a year and is unheard of. She received part of her sulka. The waiting period of three months has long since expired. She has received no maintenance from her husband or his family. She is entitled to remarry. The court grants permission. She may marry the merchant Ratnadatta, or any other man of her choosing. Her dowry and property remain her own. The sulka paid by her former husband is not recoverable. The opposing party, Somadatta, shall pay the costs of this suit."


Somadatta bowed his head, his anger spent. Revati touched her forehead to the floor, tears streaming down her face. Ratnadatta stepped forward and helped her rise.


After the court had emptied, Shrutavati said to Vedananda, "The waiting periods are short for a young wife, longer for a wife with children. The law seems to treat the childless wife as more free, the mother as more bound. Why?"


"Because the mother is the guardian of her children's inheritance," Vedananda replied. "The law binds her to her husband's family to protect the children's property. The childless wife has no such tie. Her freedom is greater because her responsibility is less. The law is not sentimental about marriage. It is practical about property."


"And the sulka? The brother wanted it back."


"The sulka is the price of the marriage, not the price of the wife. Once the marriage is performed, the sulka is earned. The husband's family cannot reclaim it because the marriage ended through his absence. The law does not let them have both the wife and the money."


Vamanagupta, passing by, paused. "The sage Suracharya wrote that the young wife who has received only part of her sulka waits three months. The young wife who has received the whole waits five. Why the difference? Because the husband who has paid more has a greater claim on her patience. But even that claim has a limit. The law is a scale, and on it everything is weighed—the husband's payment, the wife's maintenance, the presence of children, the word or silence of the absent. When the scale tips, the wife is free. Today, it tipped."

Chapter V: Division of Inheritance


Sons whose fathers and mothers or ancestors are alive cannot be independent (anisvarah). After their time, division of ancestral property among descendants from the same ancestor shall take place, calculating per stirpes (according to fathers).


Self-acquired property of any of the sons with the exception of that kind of property which is earned by means of parental property is not divisible.


Sons or grandsons till the fourth generation from the first parent shall also have prescribed shares (amsabhajah) in that property which is acquired by means of their undivided ancestral property; for the line (pindah) as far as the fourth generation is uninterrupted (avichchhinnah).


But those whose line or genealogy from the first ancestor is interrupted (vichchhinnapindah, i.e., those who are subsequent to the fourth generation), shall have equal divisions.


Those who have been living together shall redivide their property whether they had already divided their ancestral property before or they had received no such property at all. Of sons, he who brings the ancestral property to a prosperous condition shall also have a share of the profit.


If a man has no male issue, his own brothers, or persons who have been living with him (saha jivino va), shall take possession of his movable property (dravyam); and his daughters, born of marriages other than the first four, shall have his immovable property (riktham).


If one has sons, they shall have the property; if one has only daughters born of such marriage as is contracted in accordance with the customs of any of the first four kinds of marriage, they shall have the property; if there are neither sons nor such daughters, the dead man's father, if living, shall have it; if he, too, is not alive, the dead man's brothers and the sons of his brothers shall have it; if there are many fatherless brothers, all of them shall divide it; and each of the many sons of such brothers shall have one share due to his father (piturekamamsam); if the brothers (sodarya) are the sons of many fathers, they shall divide it calculating from their fathers.


Among a dead man's father, brother, and brother's sons, the succeeding ones shall depend on the preceding ones if living (for their shares); likewise the youngest or the eldest claiming his own share.


A father, distributing his property while he is alive, shall make no distinction in dividing it among his sons. Nor shall a father deprive without sufficient reason any of the sons of his share. Father being dead, the elder sons shall show favour to the younger ones, if the latter are not of bad character.


Time of Dividing Inheritance: Division of inheritance shall be made when all the inheritors have attained their majority. If it is made before, the minors shall have their shares, free of all debts. These shares of the minors shall be placed in the safe custody of the relatives of their mothers, or of aged gentlemen of the village, till they attain their majority.


The same rule shall hold good in the case of those who have gone abroad. Unmarried brothers shall also be paid as much marriage cost as is equal to that incurred in the marriages of married brothers (sannivishtasamasamannivishtebhyonaivesanikam dadyuh).


Daughters, too, unmarried shall be paid adequate dowry (pradanikam), payable to them on the occasion of their marriages. Both assets and liabilities shall be equally divided.


My teacher says that poor people (nishkinchanah) shall equally distribute among themselves even the mud-vessels (udapatram). In the opinion of Kautilya, it is unnecessary to say so (chhalam); for as a rule, division is to be made of all that is in existence, but of nothing that is not in existence.


Having declared before witnesses the amount of property common to all (samanya) as well as the property constituting additional shares (amsa) of the brothers (in priority of their birth), division of inheritance shall be carried on. Whatever is badly and unequally divided or is involved in deception, concealment or secret acquisition, shall be redivided.


Property for which no claimant is found (adayadakam) shall go to the king, except the property of a woman, of a dead man for whom no funeral rites have been performed, or of a niggardly man with the exception of that of a Brahmin learned in the Vedas. That (the property of the learned) shall be made over to those who are well-versed in the three Vedas.


Persons fallen from caste, persons born of outcaste men, and eunuchs shall have no share; likewise idiots, lunatics, the blind and lepers. If the idiots, etc., have wives with property, their issues who are not equally idiots, etc., shall share inheritance. All these persons excepting those that are fallen from caste (patitavarjah) shall be entitled to only food and clothing.


If these persons have been married (before they became fallen, etc.) and if their line is likely to become extinct, their relatives may beget sons for them and give proportional shares of inheritance to those sons.


Division of Inheritance

In Simple Terms


The main ideas from this chapter can be understood in these simple points:


No Independence While Parents Live: Sons cannot be independent—cannot own property separately, cannot contract, cannot control their own wealth—while their fathers, mothers, or ancestors are alive. The joint family is the legal unit, and the patriarch is its head. Only after his death does division occur.


Division by Fathers, Not by Heads: When the ancestor dies, property is divided per stirpes—by the number of sons, each son taking an equal share. Self-acquired property of a son is not divisible, unless it was earned using ancestral property.


Sons and grandsons down to the fourth generation share in property acquired through undivided ancestral wealth, because the family line (pindah) is continuous to that point. Beyond the fourth generation, the line is considered interrupted, and all descendants share equally.


The Son Who Increases the Estate Gains a Reward: If a son brings the ancestral property to a more prosperous condition, he receives a share of the profit he generated. The law rewards industry, even within the joint family.


The Order of Inheritance When There Are No Sons: This is a precise hierarchy. If a man dies without male issue, his movable property goes to his own brothers or those who lived with him. His immovable property—land—goes to his daughters, if they were born of marriages other than the first four kinds. If he has sons, they take everything.


If he has only daughters born of the first four kinds of marriage, they take everything. If there are neither sons nor such daughters, the dead man's father inherits. If the father is dead, the dead man's brothers and their sons inherit. Among brothers, each takes an equal share. Among the sons of brothers, each takes one share due to his own father.


The Preceding Heir Excludes the Succeeding One: The dead man's father, if alive, excludes the dead man's brothers. The brothers, if alive, exclude their own sons. The eldest and youngest claim their own shares, but the nearer relative always takes before the more distant.


A Father Must Treat His Sons Equally: A father distributing property during his lifetime must make no distinction among his sons. He cannot disinherit a son without sufficient reason. After the father's death, the elder sons must show favour to the younger ones, provided the younger ones are not of bad character. The law protects sons from paternal caprice and younger brothers from elder brothers' greed.


The Timing of Division: Division must wait until all inheritors have reached majority. If division is made earlier, the minors receive their shares free of all debts. Their shares are held in trust by their mothers' relatives or by village elders until they come of age.


The same rule applies to heirs who are abroad—their shares are preserved for them. Unmarried brothers receive a marriage allowance equal to what was spent on their married brothers. Unmarried daughters receive an adequate dowry. Debts as well as assets are divided equally.


Everything is Divided, Even Mud-Pots: Kautilya's teacher says that even the mud-vessels should be divided among the poor. Kautilya dismisses this as unnecessary to state: everything that exists is divided; nothing that does not exist is divided. Before division, the common property and the additional shares of brothers are declared before witnesses. Any division that is unequal, fraudulent, concealed, or secretly acquired is set aside and redivided.


Property Without a Claimant Goes to the King: If no heir can be found, the property escheats to the king. Exceptions: the property of a woman, the property of a dead man for whom funeral rites have not been performed, and the property of a miser—unless he is a learned Brahmin, in which case his wealth goes to other learned Brahmins. The king does not take everything.


The Disqualified Inheritors: Those fallen from caste, those born of outcastes, and eunuchs receive no share. Nor do idiots, lunatics, the blind, or lepers. But if these disqualified persons have wives with property, their children who are not similarly disqualified may inherit.


All the disqualified, except those fallen from caste, are entitled to food and clothing—they are not starved, merely excluded from ownership. If a disqualified person was married before becoming disqualified, and his line is in danger of extinction, his relatives may beget sons for him, and those sons receive proportional shares.


Case Study: An Ancient King's Application


The Kautilyan law of inheritance is the ancestor of the two great schools of Hindu inheritance law that governed India until the Hindu Succession Act of 1956: the Mitakshara, prevailing in most of India, and the Dayabhaga, prevailing in Bengal.


The Mitakshara school followed the Kautilyan principle of inheritance by survivorship within the joint family. A son acquired a right in ancestral property at birth, not at his father's death. The father could not alienate ancestral property without his sons' consent.


This was the Kautilyan rule that sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons down to the fourth generation had prescribed shares in property acquired through undivided ancestral wealth. The Mitakshara joint family was a direct descendant of the Kautilyan pindah.


The Dayabhaga school, by contrast, held that a son had no right in ancestral property until his father's death. The father could dispose of his property as he wished. This was closer to the Kautilyan rule that sons cannot be independent while their fathers are alive, but it gave the father greater testamentary freedom than the Mitakshara.


The Kautilyan order of succession—sons, daughters, father, brothers, brothers' sons—survived in both schools, though with modifications. The Kautilyan distinction between daughters born of the first four kinds of marriage and daughters born of the last four was abandoned.


All daughters were eventually recognised as heirs, though their shares were smaller than sons' shares until the Hindu Succession Act's 2005 amendment granted equal coparcenary rights.


The Kautilyan exclusion of the disqualified—the fallen, the outcaste, the eunuch, the idiot, the lunatic, the blind, the leper—survived in the Mitakshara and Dayabhaga as the exclusion of the "disqualified" from inheritance. Congenital idiots, lunatics, and those with certain diseases could not inherit, but they were entitled to maintenance.


The Kautilyan rule that these persons receive food and clothing became the modern right to maintenance for dependents who cannot support themselves.


The Kautilyan rule that property without a claimant goes to the king is the ancestor of the modern doctrine of escheat, by which the state inherits the property of a person who dies intestate and without heirs.


The modern Indian Succession Act provides for escheat to the government in the absence of all heirs. The Kautilyan exceptions—women's property, unperformed funeral rites, learned Brahmins—are gone, but the principle of state succession to heirless property endures.


In Modern Times


In modern India, the Kautilyan law of inheritance has been largely superseded by the Hindu Succession Act, 1956, as amended in 2005. The Act abolished the Mitakshara joint family's rule of survivorship, granted daughters equal coparcenary rights, and established a uniform order of succession.


The Kautilyan hierarchy—sons, then daughters, then father, then brothers—has been replaced by a system of Class I and Class II heirs, in which the widow, sons, daughters, and mother share equally.


The Kautilyan exclusion of the disqualified—idiots, lunatics, lepers—is gone. Modern law does not disinherit a person for disability. The Kautilyan rule that a father must treat his sons equally survives in the modern principle that a will that disinherits a son without reason may be challenged. The Kautilyan rule that minors' shares are held in trust survives in the modern guardianship and trust laws that protect the property of minors until they attain majority.


The Arthashastran best practice that endures is the principle that inheritance law must be clear, predictable, and enforced by the state. The Kautilyan order of succession, however hierarchical, prevented the chaos of disputed wills and family feuds.


The modern Indian legal system, with its detailed succession statutes, does the same. The Kautilyan rule that fraudulent or unequal divisions must be redivided is the ancestor of the modern right to challenge a fraudulent will or a coerced partition. The law protects the honest heir and punishes the deceiver.

Kūrmapura, the Court of Justice – Late Morning


The court scribe, Lekhapala, read the registration aloud: "The year is the twelfth of King Simhavarma Sura. The season is Hemanta. The month is Margasirsha. The fortnight is the waning moon. The date is the eighth day. The nature of the dispute is the division of inheritance of the late merchant Vasumitra.


The petitioner is Vamana, middle son of the deceased, of the western quarter of Kūrmapura. The respondent is Ananta, eldest son of the deceased, of the same quarter. Also joined are Sudharma, youngest son of the deceased, and Kamala, unmarried daughter of the deceased."


The six chairs behind the polished teak bench were filled. Dharmagupta presided, his expression calm. Shrutavati and Vedananda flanked him. Gajakesha, Rudravarma, and Vamanagupta sat in the amatyas' chairs.


The case had drawn a crowd, for the Vasumitra estate was one of the largest in the western quarter, and the family's discord had been the talk of the markets for weeks.


Vamana, a lean man in his thirties with a quiet, steady manner, spoke first. "My lords, my father died six months ago. He left no will. Our mother died many years ago. There are three sons: myself, my elder brother Ananta, and my younger brother Sudharma. There is also our sister Kamala, who is unmarried. I seek a fair division of our father's property according to the law."


He gestured toward Sudharma, who knelt nearby. The youngest brother was a man of perhaps twenty-five, his face calm but his eyes unfocused, staring at a point beyond the bench. He had been blind since birth. Beside him knelt his wife, a quiet woman named Sumati, and in her arms she held their sleeping son, Devadatta, a child of two.


"My brother Sudharma is blind," Vamana continued. "My brother Ananta claims that Sudharma is therefore disqualified from inheritance. He also claims that our sister Kamala is not entitled to a dowry because our father had already provided for her verbally. And he claims that the largest portion of our father's estate—the trading house and its capital—is his own self-acquired property, built from his own efforts, and should not be divided. I believe all these claims are false. I ask the court to divide the estate equally among the three brothers, with Sudharma's share held for his son, to provide Sudharma with maintenance, and to grant Kamala her lawful dowry."


Ananta rose. He was a heavy man with a goldsmith's powerful hands and a merchant's calculating eyes. "My lords, my younger brother distorts the truth. Sudharma is blind. The law is clear: a blind man has no share in inheritance. I am willing to give him food and clothing, as the law requires, but no share of the property. As for Kamala, our father told me before his death that he had already given her a dowry of five hundred panas. I have witnesses who will swear to it. And the trading house—that is my own work. I built it from nothing. I used my own capital, my own ships, my own risk. It is not ancestral property. It is mine."


Shrutavati leaned forward. "You say your father provided Kamala's dowry. Where is the record? A verbal statement is not a dowry paid. The law requires an adequate dowry to be paid at the time of her marriage. She is not yet married. Has she received anything?"


Kamala, a young woman of perhaps nineteen, stood beside her brothers. "I have received nothing, my lady. My father spoke of a dowry, but he died before it was given. I have no record, no gold, no settlement."


Vedananda spoke. "The law says that unmarried daughters shall be paid an adequate dowry, payable on the occasion of their marriage. The amount shall be equal to the marriage costs of their married brothers. Ananta, were you married with your father's funds?"


Ananta hesitated. "I was. My father spent six hundred panas on my wedding."


"And Vamana?"


"The same, I believe."


"Then Kamala is entitled to a dowry of not less than six hundred panas from the estate before any division among the sons. The verbal promise, even if made, does not discharge the obligation. A dowry is paid, not promised."


Gajakesha, who had been examining a sheaf of palm-leaf accounts, looked up. "Now, the trading house. Ananta claims it is self-acquired. Vamana claims it was built with ancestral funds. The law says that property earned by a son through his own efforts, without using ancestral property, is not divisible. But property acquired by means of ancestral property is divisible among all sons and grandsons down to the fourth generation. The question is: where did the capital for this trading house come from?"


He spread the accounts on the bench. "I have examined the records of the late Vasumitra's estate. Six years ago, a sum of three thousand panas was withdrawn from the family's common funds—funds held jointly by the father and all three sons. Ananta used this sum to purchase his first ship. That ship generated the profits that built the trading house. The capital was ancestral. The profits, therefore, are ancestral. The trading house is not self-acquired. It is divisible."


Ananta's face darkened. "My father gave me that money as a gift. It was mine."


"A gift from the common funds is not a gift of private property," Gajakesha replied. "It is an advance. And an advance from the ancestral estate does not make the resulting wealth self-acquired. The law is precise: property earned by means of parental property is divisible."


Dharmagupta raised a hand. "The court will now hear the matter of Sudharma. He is blind. The law lists the blind among those who have no share in inheritance. But the law also says that if a disqualified person has a wife with property, and if they have a son who is not disqualified, that son shall inherit the share that would have gone to his father. Sudharma, was your wife married to you before or after your blindness?"


Sumati, Sudharma's wife, answered. "He was blind from birth, my lord. But we were married lawfully, and our son Devadatta is healthy and whole. He is not blind."


"Then the law is clear," Vedananda said. "Sudharma himself is entitled to food and clothing from the estate, but no share of the property. His son Devadatta, however, is entitled to the share that would have gone to his father. That share shall be held in trust by Sumati and by the elders of the family until the boy attains his majority."


Ananta's fists clenched. "So the blind man's son takes a full share, while I, who built the trading house, am robbed of what I earned?"


"You did not earn it," Vamanagupta said quietly. "You built it with your father's money and your brothers' common inheritance. The law rewards industry—the son who increases the ancestral estate receives a share of the profit. But the profit is not his alone. It belongs to the pindah, the family line, down to the fourth generation. You are not a self-made man, Ananta. You are a son who used his father's wealth to become rich. The law sees the difference."


Dharmagupta nodded. "The court finds as follows. The estate of the late Vasumitra is ancestral property, divisible equally among his three sons. Sudharma, being blind, is disqualified from receiving a share, but his son Devadatta shall inherit his father's share, held in trust until his majority. Sudharma shall receive food and clothing from the estate for the remainder of his life. Kamala, the unmarried daughter, shall receive a dowry of six hundred panas from the estate before division. Ananta's claim of self-acquired property is denied. The trading house and all its assets are part of the ancestral estate. The division shall be made before witnesses, and any concealment or fraud shall be redivided."


He paused. "Ananta, you attempted to conceal the source of your wealth and to deprive your brother and sister of their lawful entitlements. The court does not impose a fine for Parokta in this case, for you have not contradicted your own statements; you have merely asserted what was false. But the law does not look kindly on those who try to steal from the blind and the unwed. You will pay the costs of this suit."


Ananta bowed his head, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. Vamana touched his forehead to the floor. Sudharma, the blind brother, turned his face toward the bench and spoke for the first time. "I thank the court. I cannot see the law, but I can feel its weight. It is heavy, but it is just."


After the court had emptied, Shrutavati said to Vedananda, "The blind brother spoke well. The law is heavy, he said. It is. It took his share, but it gave it to his son. It took Ananta's profits, but it rewarded his industry. It gave the daughter her dowry. The balance held."


"The law is a scale," Vedananda replied. "It cannot restore sight to the blind, but it can ensure that his son is not a beggar. It cannot make Ananta honest, but it can strip him of his dishonest gains. That is the best the law can do. The rest is for the gods."


Vamanagupta, passing by, paused. "The sage Suracharya wrote that a father dividing his property among his sons shall make no distinction. The law is the father here, and it made no distinction—except where the law itself prescribes it. The blind are excluded, but their sons are not. The daughter does not inherit, but she is not left empty-handed. The elder brother does not steal from the younger. The scales are imperfect, as all human scales are, but they are the best we have."

The Books of Arya Kalash by A. Royden D'Souza


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