Matrilineal Heritage in Modern India: How Khasi, Nair, and Garo Communities Redefine Mother's Day

In a world predominantly structured around patrilineal systems, several indigenous communities in India stand as remarkable exceptions. The Khasi, Nair, and Garo communities have preserved matrilineal traditions that trace lineage, inheritance, and family identity through the maternal line—cultural frameworks that offer profound insights into alternative conceptions of family, power, and identity.

However, as we talk to the people from the community ahead of Mother's Day these legacies invite us to reconsider the complex interplay of gender, tradition, and modernity in contemporary India.

Sarti Marak, a 72-year-old Garo grandmother from Tura, reflects on her experiences of passing down matrilineal traditions: "In our 'A·chik' belief system, the youngest daughter, the nokna, carries the heaviest responsibility. When I became nokna, my mother taught me to manage not just our land, but our clan's rituals and stories. Today, my granddaughter asks why she must stay when her brothers move away. I tell her that to be a keeper of the home is to be a keeper of our people's hearts. This is not a burden—it is the power of a different kind."

For many Khasi women, the inheritance is not just of property, but of lineage, memory, and duty. Laddem Thabah, a mother of two and part-time school librarian in Shillong, puts it simply: "I didn't just get a house. I inherited a story. My grandmother told me, 'This roof shelters more than bodies—it shelters names.' I think about that every time I open the doors during Beh Dienkhlam."

Beyond Romanticisation: The Patriarchy within the Matrilineal Legacy

Joel B Kyndiah, a native of Shillong, Meghalaya, who belongs to the Khasi community, explains: "Understanding the role of mothers and matrilineal women in my community necessitates engaging with the intricacies of Khasi kinship structures. While mainstream discourse often paints an idealised picture of women's empowerment in Meghalaya owing to matriliny, I believe we must de-romanticise this narrative. The lived realities are more complex, with pressing issues such as domestic violence, adolescent pregnancies leaving young girls socially and economically vulnerable, and the economic vulnerability of single mothers." 

Kyndiah, who is also a law student at NUJS, Kolkata, further says, "These are not marginal; they are pervasive and often evaded in public discussion. Yet, Khasi mothers are resilient and often serve as breadwinners, navigating both cultural expectations and structural inequality in deeply complex ways."

The nuanced reality of matriliny extends beyond the Khasi communities. Dr Prerana Roy, who teaches history at Shaheed Bhagat Singh College, Delhi University, whose research focuses on gender relations in early Indian history, observes that even historic examples of matrilineal systems operated within broader patriarchal frameworks: "Coming to matrilineality, this is a system where lineage and property relations—or patterns of succession—are traced through kinship terms that derive from the maternal line. However, the catch is that this lineage often stems from the mother’s brother, where the bloodline is the basis for the perpetuation of the lineage. He is referred to as the Matula. The Matula—or maternal uncle—typically has authority over how the household is run and how property within the family is structured. So, in essence, this isn’t truly matrilineal in the sense of being entirely governed by a female figure."

Sanjana Menon, a 48-year-old Nair woman from Kerala, offers a lived perspective: "People from outside look at our community and think women have all the power. The truth is more layered. Yes, the property comes through my mother's line, and my daughter will inherit our family home—but the decisions have traditionally been guided by the karanavar [maternal uncle]. Even today, with legal changes, we're navigating between tradition and modernity."

Inheritance Practices and Colonial Interventions: The Evolving Framework

The inheritance traditions within these communities reveal fascinating variations. "A common perception is that inheritance in Khasi society automatically and exclusively passes to the youngest daughter," Kyndiah notes. "However, this requires contextual clarification. The youngest daughter typically inherits the ka iing -- the ancestral property, not as a right of ownership in the modern legal sense, but as a custodian. The home becomes the locus of matrilocality, housing family rituals and ancestral spiritual observances (for those who continue to follow the indigenous faith). Her role is to care for her parents and often provide residence for unmarried siblings or estranged male relatives - such as maternal uncles who may be separated or divorced."

These customary practices faced significant disruption during colonial rule, particularly among the Nair communities of Kerala. Professor Roy highlights this historical intervention: "The Travancore families—or the Tharavad family unit found within Nair communities—were subjected to deeper scrutiny and intervention by colonial jurists, especially in comparison to the relatively untouched matrilineal systems of the Garos and Khasis. The discomfort that colonial administrators felt towards matrilineal structures led to these gradual systemic shifts"

The discomfort of colonial administrators with matrilineal systems led to gradual systemic changes. “There were a lot of interventions, right?” Roy explains. “In some cases, property rights were reassigned to a senior member of the family, who might have been a woman. At other times, rights were transferred to other kin members of the family, preferably males. Since the princely states were still functioning and interacting with the British, there was considerable negotiation around how these states would coordinate with the colonial government. This led to significant interference in the internal dynamics of these communities.”

Meena Sangma, a 65-year-old Garo grandmother from Meghalaya, reflects on these changes: "When I was young, our Nokma [matrilineal clan head] system was stronger. The nokna [heiress] would inherit the family property, and her husband would move into our house. Now, with modern education and migration to cities, many young people see our traditions as outdated. But I tell my granddaughters, this system preserved our identity when outside forces tried to change us."

Contemporary Challenges: Gender, Power, and Evolution

Despite matrilineal inheritance patterns, political representation and decision-making power often remain male-dominated, revealing the complex coexistence of matriliny with patriarchal elements. Kyndiah astutely observes: "Beyond the household, political representation remains starkly unequal. Meghalaya, though matrilineal, fares poorly in terms of women's participation in formal politics---only 3 out of 60 members in the current Legislative Assembly are women. In the District Councils, institutions under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution, only 4 women out of 30 serve in the Khasi Hills Autonomous District Council and 3 in the Jaintia Hills Autonomous District Council."

The young student further notes that "at the village or locality level, while other Indian states have institutionalised women's leadership through the Panchayati Raj system, such as women sarpanchs, and quotas for women representation, here, women are still largely excluded from becoming Rangbah Shnong (headmen), a position historically and structurally reserved for men. Even the executive committees of the Dorbar Shnong often leave women out, relegating them to parallel but non-decisional spaces such as the Seng Kynthei (women's wing)."

These observations align with Profssor Roy's broader analysis of how matrilineal systems operate within patriarchal frameworks: "I’ve lived in Meghalaya on and off for a couple of years, and while some systems there are distinct—for instance, property is passed down to daughters, and when a couple marries, the husband often moves into the wife's household—these customs do still persist. However, the broader patriarchal framework within which these relationships operate isn’t all that different. It's more than a particular way of life continues over time, and within that, certain matrilineal patterns remain. Yet, a larger structure of patriarchy continues to influence these communities."

Lakshmi Menon, a 36-year-old teacher from a Nair family in Thiruvananthapuram, describes the contemporary tensions: "My mother and grandmother lived in traditional joint families where the oldest women had significant authority over household matters. But this authority was carefully bounded—economic decisions often still required male validation. For my generation, we're trying to blend the strength of our matrilineal heritage with modern feminist values. It's not always an easy balance."

The impact of urbanisation and inter-community marriages represents another dimension of change. Roy notes, "Of course, the general layperson’s view is that with increasing inter-community marriages and the rise of urbanisation, many traditional taboos are being erased and modernity is taking hold. But when examined through a more nuanced lens, the reality is more complex. While the mechanisms of patriarchy may be evolving, they are not disappearing—they are simply taking on new forms."

As Kyndiah thoughtfully reflects, "Among younger Khasis, such as myself, I see a growing reflexivity about the role of tradition in everyday life. Matriliny continues to shape kinship and caregiving responsibilities, but its structures are being increasingly interrogated."

This Mother's Day offers an opportunity to contemplate these complex legacies. As Kyndiah eloquently states, "This Mother's Day, I hope readers will reflect on matrilineal legacies not as romanticised cultural artefacts, but as living systems, albeit flawed, dynamic, and deeply instructive. In Khasi society, matriliny is not just about inheritance; it is about obligation, care, memory, and continuity. And yet, matriliny alone does not guarantee equity. Celebrating our mothers also means confronting the social realities they bear, often quietly."

Professor Roy's closing thoughts remind us of an often-overlooked dimension of motherhood: "When we talk about Mother's Day, women are often viewed primarily through the lenses of care and affection. There’s a prevailing tendency to frame their roles within the soft narratives of care and love, rather than recognising them through the lens of labour. For example, when a mother prepares a meal for her children or keeps a fast for them or her husband, it is more commonly perceived as an act of love rather than acknowledged as a form of labour. In doing so, we end up undervaluing the real work involved in that act."

These matrilineal communities, despite their evolving challenges, offer valuable lessons in reimagining gender relations and family structures—not as perfect alternatives, but as complex cultural systems that continue to adapt to changing times while preserving distinctive identities rooted in maternal lineages.