Opinion

Chayamukhi: The Indian story of a mirror that reflects true human desire

In ancient Greece, King Midas wished for the golden touch, believing that unlimited wealth would bring him ultimate happiness. However, his dream quickly turned into a nightmare when his food—and even his beloved daughter—turned to gold. Midas became trapped by his irrational desire, blinded by the allure of wealth without considering its consequences.
Photo Credit: Rupixen on Unsplash

Aparna S

February 25, 2025: The human mind has always been a labyrinth of emotional complexities, constantly seeking meaning and connection amid the chaos of existence. Intrigue, one of the emotions woven into its interactions and relationships, fuels the curiosity of those who study behavior. This fascination compels learners to become observers of the mind’s intricate patterns, yet withhold judgment. Ironically, this very act of detached observation often doubles as an occupational hazard! The observer’s neutrality risks being entangled in the very complexities they seek to unravel.

Talking about the complexities of mind, the Mahabharata, the Indian epic, is a good example of a portrayal of human nature in a million shades and dimensions.

A small instance of this is the anecdote of Chayamukhi. The mystical mirror that reflected the person you loved /admired most.

Chayamukhi was a gift to Bhima from his lady love, Hidumbi. Bhima and Hidumbi met in the woods during the fourteen-year exile given to the Pandavas by their cousins and rivals, the Kauravas, and had a passionate affair. As she was deeply in love with Bheema, Hidumbi hoped to see her own reflection when he looked into it; however, the mirror actually showed Panchali (Draupadi), the wife to all five brothers. This left Hidumbi in despair and eventually forced her to leave the love of her life.

Hidumbi faces her reflection in Chayamukhi, which reveals Bhima. However, she is painfully aware that she is not his only love. Her struggle represents the universal human fear of being emotionally replaced, highlighting the complexity of love and loyalty. Hidumbi’s jealousy and resentment towards Panchali, the feelings she tries to suppress to be a ‘good wife,’ resurface through Chayamukhi, confronting her with her reality. This internal conflict emphasizes the emotional cost of societal expectations on women, who are often pressured to suppress their emotional needs.

The mirror didn’t stop its mind game there. When Bhima gifted the mirror to Panchali, hoping to see himself when she looked into it, he saw Arjun’s (his brother’s) face reflected, unmasking her special feelings for him. Panchali’s special affection for Arjun, although she has vowed to divide her marital duties equally among all five brothers, surfaces through the mirror’s reflection, exposing her struggle for emotional autonomy and questioning societal norms about loyalty and desire. This confrontation with one’s desires if not dealt with in a healthy way, not only challenges self-perception but also the perception others have of us, leading to conflicts and misunderstandings.

Although Chayamukhi is popularly associated with the Bhima-Panchali-Hidumbi love triangle, the mirror sees more than love. For instance, when Krishna looks into the mirror, he sees Sakuni (the uncle advisor of the Kauravas in their battle (Mahabharat) against their cousins, the Pandavas). Krishna isn’t just the flute-playing, peacock-feather-wearing charmer. He’s also the guy who suggested Bhima hit Duryodhana below the belt—literally. He sees Sakuni because, let’s be honest, they’re both grandmasters playing opposite sides. One for Dharma and the other for revenge. In fact, the war was between them, plotting constantly to defy each other’s plans. No wonder Krishna saw the manipulative Sakuni instead of any of his 16008 spouses or his beloved Radha. The adage “Closer to the enemy than a friend,” comes to mind!

Chayamukhi” means “shadow in the face,” implying that it reflects the actual desire, intentions, and motives of a person—their “true face”. It is not just a mystical mirror but a reflection of the human psyche, exploring how illusions, projections, and suppressed desires shape relationships. This aligns with the concept of Maya (illusion) and that everything we see and hear has a deeper meaning, which can only be perceived by deep understanding and thoughtful reflections.

Jungian “Shadow self” and Chayamukhi

The concept of the mystical mirror reflecting one’s inner desires and conflicts resonates with Carl Jung’s theory of the “shadow self.” According to Jung, the persona represents “what oneself as well as others think one is,” while the shadow embodies repressed, inferior, and guilt-laden aspects of the personality. He emphasized that the inability to confront these shadow elements often lies at the root of personal struggles. On a broader scale, this unresolved tension might fuel conflicts between minority groups or escalate disputes into anything from minor altercations to full-blown wars.

Shadow Self and Projection

Projection, an ego defense mechanism, occurs when individuals unconsciously attribute their own suppressed thoughts or emotions to others. When people fail to integrate these feelings into their conscious psyche, they “project” them outward. In essence, the shadow self acts as the catalyst for such projections—what we perceive in others often mirrors what we refuse to acknowledge in ourselves.

This dynamic is illustrated when Panchali gazes into the mirror and sees Arjuna, the embodiment of beauty, valor, and chivalry, rather than Bheema, who symbolizes impulsivity and indulgence. What she desires diverges from her reality, creating an internal conflict the mirror lays bare—one that transcends her outward role as a dutiful wife.

Chayamukhi symbolizes a journey of self-discovery. It reveals hidden layers of desire, fear, and insecurity, exposing the psychological intricacies that underpin relationships. Beyond themes of love and betrayal, the narrative explores how individuals project subconscious emotions. By weaving in Jungian concepts of the shadow self and projection, the story delves into the complexities of suppressed feelings, urging characters (and audiences) toward emotional honesty and autonomy. As portrayed in Sri Prasanth Narayanan’s play of the same name, the mirror reflects far more than mere surfaces—it unveils truths we bury, desires we deny, and the uncharted terrain of who we might become.

(Dr Aparna S is a consultant psychiatrist and an Assistant Professor at the Believers Church Medical College Hospital, Tiruvalla, Kerala. Views expressed are her own and not of an organisation or company.)