“Come to think of it, for us, that is, for us Muslims, it is said that, other than Allah above, our pati is God on earth. Suppose there comes a situation where the husband’s body is full of sores...It is said that even if the wife uses her tongue to lick these wounds clean, she will still not be able to completely repay the debt she owes him. If he is a drunkard or a womaniser, or if he harasses her for dowry every day— even if all these ‘ifs’ are true, he is still the husband. No matter which religion one belongs to, it is accepted that the wife is the husband’s most obedient servant, his bonded labourer.”
—Heart Lamp, Banu Mushtaq (translated from Kannada by Deepa Bhasthi)
Banu Mushtaq has always been a ‘critical insider’, rejecting religious conservatism , shattering stereotypes. Her works trace the trajectory of lives lived on the margins and offer readers an insider’s perspective on Muslim women’s struggles and aspirations in southern India. A native of Hassan, Karnatka, Mushtaq has been ostracised by many in her own community for her ‘outspokenness’. Unfazed, the 76-year-old keeps writing the stories she feels need to be told. Kannada is the language she thinks, writes and dreams in. Though her mother tongue is Dakhni Urdu, she struggled when she was admitted to an Urdu-medium school as a child. When her father, a government employee, was transferred to Shimogga, he enrolled her in a Kannada-medium convent school next to his office. That acceptance was conditional, too. She could stay on only if she learnt to read and write Kannada in six months. Mushtaq was a natural; it only took her days to pick up both skills.
With her short story collection Heart Lamp being longlisted for the International Booker Prize this year, Mushtaq has become the first Kannada writer to be nominated for the prestigious prize. The 2022 winner, Geetanjali Shree’s Ret Samadhi (originally written in Hindi; translated into English by Daisy Rockwell), is the first book in an Indian language to be awarded the International Booker Prize.
Mushtaq spoke to Vineetha Mokkil about her eventful journey as a writer, lawyer, activist and politician. Excerpts:
You shine a spotlight on marginalised women’s lives in your writing and you have been fighting for women’s rights as a lawyer and an activist. Why are women your central focus?
🌟Women are a vital part of society, but society silences their voices. I want to talk through my women characters. I want to scream and shout through them. I write about the injustices meted out to women and men in our society. I feel a sense of duty to keep writing women’s stories. From a very young age, I couldn’t tolerate any injustice. I raised my voice against it. Being outspoken is considered the greatest disqualification for a woman. Growing up, I was often blamed for ‘talking too much’. I was warned that it would bring dishonour to my family. Men, on the other hand, are encouraged to speak up. They are appreciated for it.
After the publication of your short story collection Benki Male (1999), you faced severe criticism from Muslim community leaders. You were also attacked by a knife-wielding assailant. How hard has it been to be critical of religious conservatism and patriarchy in your writing?
🍬I am a critical insider—the most dangerous position for a person to occupy. I’ve been ostracised by many within my community because I express my views frankly. There have been threats. The physical assault I suffered left me traumatised. I couldn’t write anything for quite a while after that attack. But eventually, I got back to writing about people who misuse their power; leaders who mix religion and politics; and about women who are denied their rights and find the strength to fight for them.
Are there strong autobiographical elements in your fiction?
☂It is natural for autobiographical elements to seep into your creative writing. Elements of my own experiences do find a place in my stories. But these are not limited to me personally, There is a universal aspect to most of them. They reflect the reality of many women; their dreams and hopes; the tensions in their relationships with family and community. I’m a wife and a doting mother. I’ve also worked closely with resistance literature and people’s movements, including farmers, Dalits, environmentalists and feminists. For me, participating in these movements was the best way to sharpen my intellectual prowess. I’ve seen, at close quarters, how women and men are oppressed by powerful forces. I enjoy meeting people, talking to them, hearing their stories. All of it shapes my writing. Women should be at liberty to be active members of civil society. They should not be confined to gender-based roles and denied their freedom.
What is a writer’s role in an increasingly polarised world where authoritarian leaders wield divisive rhetoric?
ꦆI believe that a writer’s task is to register injustices. Record them in an artistic way. If you see a way forward, mention it. But never preach. Never force-feed people any solutions. Record the injustices you observe and leave the rest to the discretion of readers. It’s true that we live in a divided world. In our country, with the rise of the rightwing, there is more and more policing of women today. Some politicians ask women from the majority community to give birth to more children for the sake of the community as if women are simply breeding machines. There is hate speech, name calling and so many instances of malicious prosecution. Vote bank politics capitalises on hate; not on development and people’s welfare. But history teaches us that dictatorial regimes eventually fall. There are ups and downs, tragedies and celebrations...I’m hopeful that change will come. Nothing is permanent.
You’ve written six short story collections and you’re working on a seventh. Short stories still don’t get the attention they deserve when compared to novels, do they?
𝔉I love the short story form and I’m delighted my story collection has been longlisted for the Booker Prize. I’ve written a novel as well. The short story is my ‘first darling’. The canvas is small, but the challenge is to be poetic as well as precise within that framework. To include as many twists and turns as possible, to create flesh-and-blood characters. I think there is a place for every literary form. It’s unfair to say the novel is superior to the short story and create an artificial hierarchy.
You write about serious issues, but there is always a dry wit at play in your work. Is humour a useful tool for every writer?
♔When you write about serious issues, you are full of anger. I was very agitated when I started writing. Hunger for justice consumed me, but I didn’t have a clear notion of justice. What exactly constitutes it? At what point do you say that justice has truly been done? Humour clears my head. It gives me clarity on the page and I would be lost without it.
Deepa Bhasthi has translated your collection Heart Lamp into English. What’s the experience of working with her been like?
⛄Deepa is a wonderful young woman and she had all the freedom in the world to work on the translation. I helped her to select the stories included in the collection. I’m delighted we’ve made it to the Booker long list. The whole world seems to have woken up and taken notice of the book after the nomination. English carries a history of colonialism of course, but it has opened up many possibilities since it is considered the universal language now. It will expand my readership and bring more attention to Kannada literature.
This article is a part of Outlook's March 21, 2025 issue 'The Pilgrim's Progress', which explores the unprecedented upsurge in religious tourism in India. It appeared in print as 'Writing Rebellion'.
