In 2018, iconic Hollywood actor Morgan Freeman paid a visit to Nepal for his National Geographic documentary series ‘The Story of God,’ which featured the living goddess of Nepal. A tradition that has already received international limelight because of its uniqueness, the documentary amplified its popularity. In this Hindu-Buddhist tradition, a young girl is deified as Kumari (virgin or prepubescent girl). She will be worshipped until her prepubescent stage and be dismissed when she starts to menstruate.
Despite the significant reforms brought about by strong voices advocating for child and human rights, the issue of her dethronement after puberty continues to be downplayed and ignored. The intertwining of divinity with menstrual stigma triggers a couple of critical questions. If a living goddess is divine, how should we perceive and understand the eventual end of her divinity?
Biological Blood Kills the Divinity of the Living Goddess
With her first period this September, Trishna Shakya, a former living goddess who served between 2017 and 2025, has lost her goddess status—the death of a goddess, so to speak. Aryatara Shakya, a two-year-old girl, is the new Kumari for Kathmandu.
The famous 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche declared, “God is dead”—a metaphor used to describe the gradual rise of secularization in Europe. The philosopher attributes the advent of the Scientific Revolution, the Age of Reason, and critical Biblical studies to bringing an end to the existence of God. Unlike Nietzsche’s metaphorical death of God through secularization, the divinity of the Living Goddess of Nepal meets a literal death (end) at the hands of first menstruation. This remains the final verdict.
Proclaiming divinity’s end, as soon as Kumari reaches adolescence, she is replaced by another “virgin” child. Devotees who once bowed down to the deity for blessings are left baffled when simple biological fact strips their goddess of supreme divinity. Ironically, girls and women with menstruation problems visit the Kumari, but when the Kumari menstruates, she doesn’t have anywhere to turn to. Even though blood oozing from any part of the body due to cuts or wounds leads to the goddess’ dismissal, most cases are associated with their first period.
Matina Shakya (2008-2017) was replaced in 2017 by Trishna Shakya (2017-2025), after puberty ended her nine-year reign. When the same phenomenon hit Preeti Shakya (2001-2008) in 2008, she was shown the door to an anonymous life in the suburbs. Likewise, in 2010 the divine life for Chanira Bajracharya finished abruptly at 15, on the day she first menstruated, and Samita Bajracharya (2010-2014) was appointed the new Kumari of Patan City in her place. It is a pity that the once highly hailed all-powerful goddess, sooner or later, becomes a “nobody” and a mere mortal.
Samita and Preeti were left emotional, banished because of approaching menstruation—considered flawed. What must go through a young girl’s mind when the child realizes the imminent demotion? Arguably, gripped by trepidation, she would certainly not want menstruation—the antagonist—to come and rob her of the most treasured goddess status. Furthermore, it is highly likely that a false impression is left in the mind of a demoted child, including the collective consciousness of people. Impure blood is perceived as a nemesis of Kumari, a nasty thing that ends holiness.
Outlier Divinity: Rife with Contradiction and Inconsistency
God/Goddess’ existence is an unsolved theological riddle, yet the lives of many outstanding sages and mystics throughout the history of the Indian subcontinent—Gautam Buddha, Mahavira, Shivapuri Baba, Meera Bai, Lalleshwari, Anandamayi Ma, and others—convince us of the possibility of divinity attainment. With no single exception these humans share two things in common: years of spiritual endeavors and eventual mystical or godliness experiences.
On the contrary, a girl child is just expected to fulfill 32 physical qualities before being worshipped as a living goddess. Just perform some ritual, and magically yet perplexingly, a human girl is transformed into an embodiment of the goddess. Whether the girl child reaches the same transcendental state as the other divine beings shall always remain a debatable issue. At the same time, it is challenging to accept that a temporary biological phenomenon is capable of ending divinity permanently. Divinity is imperishable and not subject to reversal.
Therefore, enjoying the prerogatives of a goddess on chastity grounds is not the same as embarking on a spiritual journey and achieving godliness. One might skeptically conclude that the living goddess’ divinity stands in stark contrast to the lifelong spiritual striving of other revered figures. The Living Goddess does not embody divinity, as strongly believed and emphatically claimed, because what fizzles out at puberty’s touch must be something artificially conferred and thus easily revocable.
By contrast, a girl child is literally transformed into a goddess for real, so real that supposedly ridiculous and unrealistic claims, like that she can foresee the future (the royal massacre), can be lent some credence. But insofar as Nepalese society is accustomed to finding the coexistence of divinity and impure blood unbearable, it must have convinced us of the period’s seemingly antagonistic role.
Redressing the Verdict and Dispensing Menstrual Stigma
Challenging the popular yet pernicious existing belief that first menstruation ends divine power, it is advocated that puberty be acquitted from a “crime” it never committed, so to speak. Needless to say, since the inception of Kumari custom and up until the 21st century, Nepalese society’s fervent endorsement of the period myth, coupled with their reluctance to vilify it, consolidated the menstrual stigma for many centuries.
Communities might be entitled to preserve long-held old traditions and worship girl children as goddesses. But we are not at liberty to mercilessly dethrone them on completely false or trifling grounds. In doing so, a natural, harmless biological process is depicted as impure—as a result of deep-rooted menophobia. Such apparent obsession with purity transcends one individual or goddess, with far-reaching implications for all menstruating girls and women.
How many more years or decades will it take before we realize that menstruation is by no means impure, inauspicious, and unholy? Tellingly, the apotheosis of a girl child (woman) to a living goddess status is undermined by the fact that the Kumari practice explicitly promotes menstrual stigma and period restrictions. Our goddesses, including common girls and women, will continue to be prisoners of blood until this link between purity and divinity is broken.
