What Does ‘Itihasa’ Really Mean? How Language Shapes Memory, Myth, and History

Why does the same word mean something entirely different in Hindi and Sanskrit? And what does that tell us about who we are, and how we remember?

In India, where languages are not just tools but vessels of civilizational memory, the word itihasa holds two sharply different meanings—one in Hindi, and another in Sanskrit. Understanding this difference is not a trivial academic exercise. It reveals how language filters our experience of time, truth, and tradition.

In Hindi: ‘Itihasa’ as Rational History

Hindi, a relatively young language shaped just 200 years ago during the colonial era, interprets itihasa as evidence-based history. It’s the version taught in schools and colleges—one grounded in archaeology, linguistics, and material proof.

This history tells us that horses were never native to India. They were introduced through waves of migration and conquest.

• Around 5000 years ago, horses were first bred for meat in the Eurasian steppes.

• By 4000 years ago, they were pulling spoked-wheel chariots, revolutionizing warfare.

• These chariots appear in Egyptian tombs, Shang dynasty graves, and—most controversially—in the Vedic hymns of India.

• A millennium later, horse-riding kings from Greece (Yavanas), Persia (Pahlavas), and Central Asia (Kushans, Hunas) brought with them not just cavalry, but also stirrups, saddles, and new religious ideas.

This version of itihasa is based on empirical evidence, separating memory from myth, faith from fact.

In Sanskrit: ‘Itihasa’ as Sacred Storytelling

In Sanskrit—an ancient language over 3000 years old—itihasa means something entirely different. It refers to epic storytelling by witnesses, not objective history. It’s not about what happened, but about what continues to happen, again and again, in the eternal rhythm of the cosmos.

Here, itihasa appears alongside purana—narratives of gods and creation, meant to pass down spiritual truths in homes and temples. Not to be confused with fiction or lies, these stories are vehicles of faith, not subjects of textbooks.

• The itihasa corpus includes the Mahabharata and Ramayana, where gods walk as men, and battles between good and evil unfold across cosmic time.

• Horses are divine symbols too—Ashwini twins, horse-headed sages, Kalki on a white steed, Hayagriva who saves the Vedas from destruction.

In this worldview, time is cyclical, not linear. Every age has its Ram, Krishna, and Kalki. This sanatan perspective cannot be measured in years or excavated with tools.

The Modern Confusion: Myth vs. Fiction

Today, we often dismiss myths as fiction, thanks to 19th-century rationalists who worshipped science and sought ‘objective’ truth. But science cannot measure insecurity, longing, or wonder. It cannot offer the emotional certainty that stories do.

All cultures have myths—not just India.

• Capitalism glorifies the lone hero who overcomes odds.

• Socialism celebrates the collective spirit, the ‘one true god’ called the state.

• Libertarianism mythologizes freedom itself.

These ideas are not universal. They are born of Greek and Biblical imaginations. India’s myths follow different patterns—less concerned with control and conquest, more with balance and rebirth.

Why It Matters for Spin A Yarn India

At Spin A Yarn India, we believe that every Indian language carries a unique way of remembering, imagining, and narrating the world. When children hear stories in Sanskrit, Tamil, Kannada, Assamese, Bhojpuri, or Meitei, they don’t just learn vocabulary—they absorb worldviews.

They learn that memory isn’t always linear. That truth can live in metaphor. That ‘itihasa’ can mean both history and myth—and that both are valid in their own space.

So the next time someone asks whether the Mahabharata is true, or if Ram really lived, consider asking back: What language are you asking in?

Because in India, the answer depends on the tongue that frames the question.