Niranjana Prasad
Have you ever wondered what the world would look like if moms, daughters, and grandmothers were the powerhouses behind family names, land, and legacy? Plot twist—it already exists. Welcome to the lesser-sung, wildly fascinating corners of India, where matrilineal and matrilocal systems aren’t just folklore—they’re legit ways of life.
In a world that often paints patriarchy as the default mode of human existence, there are places—lush, rain-kissed Meghalaya and coastal, coconut-swaying Kerala—that challenge that script like absolute queens..
In this article, The One Liner will unravel matrilineal and matrilocal societies in the subcontinent. Let’s take a walk down winding mountain paths and ancestral courtyards, where women don’t just belong—they lead.
Let’s dive into the habits that make it possible, one day at a time, only on The One Liner.
Let’s set the vibe. Indian society is anything but monolithic. While patriarchy dominates many regions, tucked in the hills of the Northeast and the shores of the South, women call the shots—economically, culturally, spiritually. But wait—we’re not just talking “girlboss” vibes. We’re talking entire systems built on female descent, decision-making, and domestic power.
This is not a TikTok trend or an ancient myth. It’s real-life matrilineal and matrilocal systems—where the family name, home, and property are passed through the mother, and husbands, plot twist, move into the wife’s family home. And when that happens, it is mesmerising to read the stories of women as leaders, handling politics and social power into their own hands.
But what exactly do these terms mean? Let’s break it down without the headache:
Now let’s dive deep into three extraordinary communities that have these vibes coded into their social DNA and practice matrilocal life:
Welcome to Meghalaya, literally meaning “Abode of Clouds.” But this isn’t just cloud-core—it’s woman-core. The Khasi tribe, one of India’s largest matrilineal communities, flips the inheritance script like a plot twist in a K-drama.
In Khasi tradition, it’s the Ka Khadduh—the youngest daughter—who inherits the family property and becomes the caretaker of the household. Yup, the last-born girl becomes the legal queen of the legacy. Talk about birth order goals.
Marriage doesn’t mean moving out for her—her husband packs up and moves in with her family. Children? They take her surname. Property? She gets it. Family lineage? Follows her side.
But here’s where it gets nuanced. Despite this matrilineal setup, Khasi society isn’t fully matriarchal, meaning women don’t necessarily hold political or tribal power. Yet, their social and cultural influence is undeniably powerful, shaping community values and preserving oral traditions, rituals, and identity.
Also hailing from Meghalaya, the Garo tribe shares similar matrilineal traditions with a twist. The youngest daughter, or Nokna, inherits ancestral property. Think of her as the family anchor, the keeper of tradition, and—lowkey—the legacy boss.
The Garo clan structure ensures that lineage passes through the female line. And yes, like the Khasis, Garo husbands move into their wives’ homes post-marriage. The matrilocal setup creates tight-knit households where women often mediate key domestic decisions.
But again, it’s not all about ruling with an iron sari—Garo women hold influence primarily in the domestic and familial sphere. Cultural leadership and tribal councils are still largely male-dominated, although the dynamics are shifting slowly, thanks to modern education and activism.
At the southernmost state of Kerala, the Nair community has a pretty interesting history rich in matrilineal tradition. Known for being both warriors and aristocrats, they followed a matrilineal system called Marumakkathayam.
Under this system, inheritance and lineage flowed through the mother’s line, and the family lived together in extended households known as Taravad. These were not your average nuclear nests—they were sprawling, multigenerational matrilineal mansions where the eldest male (the Karnavathi) managed the household affairs, but power and property were in the name of the matrilineal clan.
Women didn’t just “belong to” the Taravad—they were the Taravad. They carried the legacy forward, with children belonging to their mother’s lineage. This social structure gave Nair women a sense of economic and familial security unheard of in most parts of the world.
Post-independence, Marumakkathayam was legally phased out. But its essence? Still lingers. You can see it in the way Kerala respects women, especially mothers. The cultural DNA didn’t forget who used to call the shots.
These communities prove that patriarchy isn’t the “default factory setting” of humanity. Instead, social systems are built from stories, soil, and centuries of practice, and some have brilliantly carved out space for feminine influence in ways the mainstream world is only now trying to catch up with.
They redefine gender roles, bend the idea of lineage, and show us that women can be the backbone of both family and identity, not just symbolically, but systemically.
2. Property, power, and lineage can belong to women—always have, in some places.
In these lush and legacy-rich corners of India, history is literally her-story. These matrilineal and matrilocal communities offer not just alternatives to male-centric social norms, but also blueprints for more balanced, empathetic, and inclusive societies.
If the world ever feels tilted too far toward inequality, the answer may be in the quiet strength of the Ka Khadduh, the protective wisdom of the Nokna, or the grounded elegance of a Nair Taravad.
So next time you hear someone say, “Women hold the future,” just know that in parts of India, they’ve been holding the past and present too.