Shoorpanakha, a central figure in the Ramayana, emerges as the sister of Ravana, king of Lanka, born to the sage Vishrava and the rakshasi Kaikesi. Her early years saw a clandestine marriage to Vidyutjihva, a Danava prince, sparking Ravana’s wrath due to the ancient rivalry between Danavas and Rakshasas. After Ravana slew Vidyutjihva in battle, he spared Shoorpanakha at the urging of his wife Mandodari and brothers. She thereafter alternated between residing in Lanka and the southern Indian forests, dwelling under Ravana’s command with her Asura kin Khara and Dushana. Her portrayal shifts dramatically across regional retellings. Valmiki’s Ramayana depicts her as uncomely, with a swollen belly, copper-toned hair, and a grating voice, whereas the Tamil Kamba Ramayanam reimagines her as a solitary beauty endowed with shapeshifting abilities. In the Panchavati forest, she encountered Rama and Lakshmana, adopting an alluring guise to court Rama. Spurned for his loyalty to Sita, she approached Lakshmana, who tauntingly rebuffed her. Fueled by fury, she menaced Sita, inciting Lakshmana to disfigure her by severing her nose and ears. This mutilation ignited a chain of vengeance. Shoorpanakha rallied her brother Khara to assault Rama, culminating in the decimation of Khara’s army. She then manipulated Ravana by extolling Sita’s allure, stoking his obsession and indirectly triggering her abduction, which precipitated the epic war. Alternate readings posit her actions as a strategic ploy to harness Rama’s divine might against Ravana, avenging her slain husband. Post-war accounts vary. Valmiki’s narrative omits her later years, though some traditions assert she dwelled in Lanka under Vibhishana’s reign before meeting her end at sea alongside her half-sister Kumbini. Folklore and regional texts, like the Bhramavaivarta Purana, envision her rebirth as Kubja, a hunched woman wed to Krishna, symbolizing karmic reckoning. Shoorpanakha’s legacy intertwines agency and marginalization. Though traditionally cast as a lust-driven antagonist, contemporary analyses reframe her as a multifaceted figure responding to societal exile and personal anguish, subverting rigid moral dichotomies. The brutality of her disfigurement underscores the epic’s exploration of gendered violence and power structures.