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Time of India
24-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
‘The courtroom became the birthplace of my stories'
By: Payyannur Kunhiraman How do you maintain the demanding balance between your legal career and writing? My father wanted me to become a doctor, but I chose to study law instead. While appearing in court is part of a lawyer's daily routine, for me, the courtroom became the birthplace of many stories. I can't always give enough attention to household matters, so I've hired someone to help manage them. Though I practice law, it is my writing that has truly brought me recognition. Your stories frequently portray the lives of women who are forced to submit to their husbands. We encounter many societal conflicts that reflect these dynamics… Marriage is not solely a contract between two individuals; it's also a loving bond between two communities. There should be no compulsion for a wife to live submissively to her husband, despite the common saying that one should regard the husband as a God. Unfortunately, gender equality is still lacking in married life, with male dominance persisting at home. Certain ideas within the Muslim community are particularly unacceptable, such as the notion that women should not work and support the family. You've also made a mark in the film industry. We know that one of your stories was adapted into a film by Girish Kasaravalli My stories likely gained national prominence thanks to cinema. Girish Kasaravalli adapted my story 'Karinagangal' into the film 'Haseena', and its national recognition brought more attention to my work. What was the public reaction when you were shortlisted for the Booker Prize? 'The Booker Prize is considered the most prestigious literary award after the Nobel Prize. When my story was shortlisted, I was surprised to receive a congratulatory call from the Karnataka govt. It proved to me that no matter how long you write, your work only truly gains attention when someone recognizes its value, like gold or a diamond.' You've often stated that writing is a weapon in your struggle. Because of your sharp critiques of traditionalism's flaws, you've also faced backlash… 'For me, writing is a form of struggle—a fight for the liberation of suffering women. A woman's life should not be confined to the kitchen like a household pest or consumed by male dominance. Her life belongs to her, and her dreams and desires deserve equal respect. This is the message I strive to express through my stories.' You once shared a story about learning to ride a bicycle in your youth, which sparked quite a stir… I grew up unaware of religious restrictions during my childhood. While in school, I would visit temples with friends without hesitation. Watching others ride bicycles sparked a desire in me to learn as well. A relative eventually taught me how to ride. But in our community, it was considered a serious offense for a Muslim girl to ride a bicycle. The community gathered and assaulted my relative for it. I couldn't stand by and watch—it compelled me to step forward and defend him. My reaction, as a girl, caused a major uproar. But through it all, my father stood firmly by my side. You wrote a story titled 'A poor man's daughter is not a girl.' When a community's honor is placed above all else, it is often women who are silenced or oppressed. Was this story written in response to that reality? Yes, I wrote that story after a long period of silence. As you know, I'm also a lawyer, and to me, the courtroom often feels like a stage—where the judge, lawyers, and parties all play their roles. Those experiences and reflections gradually transformed into stories. This particular story tells of a poor young woman who is humiliated by the wealthy. They feign love and closeness, but when it comes to marriage, they seek alliances only within rich families. The story is, in many ways, a declaration of freedom for Muslim women—an assertion of their dignity in the face of class and gender discrimination. Tell us about your first story… I wrote my first story while working as a teacher after completing college. I had a friend named Sukanya, an unforgettable character. During that time, I heard news of a young woman who set herself on fire. This incident deeply affected me, and I based my first story on her. The story is titled 'Am I Guilty?' Get the latest lifestyle updates on Times of India, along with Brother's Day wishes , messages and quotes !
Time of India
24-05-2025
- General
- Time of India
Heart lamp burns bright
By: Payyannur Kunhiraman Banu Mushtaq, who won the International Booker prize for her book 'Heart Lamp', gave voice to the burning, often unheard life stories of Muslim women in South India. From a young age, she stood up against religious fundamentalism, and that resistance became the foundation of her identity as a writer. Her stories shine with clarity and courage, cutting through the darkness of silence, injustice, and gender oppression. Rooted deeply in the landscapes of Karnataka, her narratives reflect the raw, lived realities of young Muslim women, told with unflinching honesty and profound emotional depth. They are not just stories—they are powerful philosophical reflections on life and struggle. 'There is always a veil of darkness over women,' she says. 'Writers have to tear it away and lead them into the light. Life may come with a thousand hardships, but it should not be spent in misery. Women must reclaim the rights long denied to them. A woman's life,' she adds, 'is not meant to be spent sighing at the stars blooming in the vast sky—but to rise, and become one.' She says the human values instilled by her mother and father have played a vital role in shaping both her writing and her life. Her parents taught her lessons of equality and offered crucial support during her childhood, a period she describes as a time of trial and error. She grew up free from gender or caste distinctions, and these life philosophies and ideals nurtured in her youth were what guided her as she embarked on her writing journey. Mushtaq wrote her first story while she was working as a teacher after completing her studies. It offered a powerful and intimate portrayal of a young woman's lived experience. Since then, her writing has been marked by deep philosophical insight, with each story reflecting the complexities of life. A strong sense of anger and resistance runs through her work, as she sheds light on the harsh realities faced by Muslim women—women who are often burdened by relentless hardships, denied freedom of expression, confined within their homes, and silenced from sharing their thoughts and aspirations. Mushtaq sees life with an independent mind and connects it to a deeper sense of human compassion. Yet, she doesn't hold back when criticizing young men, parents, and religious leaders who still treat women as property—no different from gold or money. Kannada literature has a strong legacy, and her writing belongs among its notable works. Her focus on exposing the long-standing oppression of women also makes her an activist. Through her stories, she doesn't just narrate lives—she stirs awareness. Rooted in everyday realities, her writing pushes for change. In interviews, she has said she always speaks for women, especially moved by the pain they endure. She notes how religion and God are often used to help men succeed, while women are expected to suffer quietly. Years ago, I visited her home in Hassan, on the city's west side. A well-known lawyer in Karnataka, she has also been a two-time member of the Hassan Municipal Corporation. But it's her writing that has earned her the most recognition. Across Karnataka and beyond, Mushtaq is celebrated as a bold literary voice and a symbol of women's resilience. She believes every writer must engage with a society built on inequality and silence, where women's unheard sighs of sorrow exist from birth. When a writer truly sees and listens to this pain, their work crosses boundaries and speaks to the world. 'The heart itself is the field of study,' she explains. Her themes emerge from intense personal and observed experiences rather than academic research. This authenticity gives her stories their revolutionary edge, transforming literature into a tool of liberation that challenges readers to confront uncomfortable truths about society's treatment of women. Mushtaq's outspoken views and actions often challenged traditional norms within her Muslim community, drawing the ire of religious fundamentalists. In 2000, she faced a fatwa after stating, 'Islam has never prohibited women from entering mosques and praying there.' This comment angered some mosque authorities, who responded by declaring, 'You are not among Muslims; you cannot socialize with Muslim people,' she recalls in an interview. The fatwa was eventually lifted after three months. Mushtaq is also an accomplished journalist, widely recognized for her sharp, fearless writing. Drawing from firsthand experiences in the field, her journalism is grounded in truth and empathy. However, her bold reporting also led to backlash, including personal attacks. She warns that we are living in a time marked by the rise of communalism and fascism—forces that threaten the fabric of society. In such a climate, she argues, silence is not neutrality but surrender. Remaining quiet in the face of injustice only empowers the aggressors. The growing tide of religious hatred, she says, is deeply alarming and must be confronted with the unwavering strength of secular values. (The writer has translated several of Banu Mushtaq's works from Kannada into Malayalam & is the recipient of Karnataka Sahithya Academy's award for translation) Get the latest lifestyle updates on Times of India, along with Brother's Day wishes , messages and quotes !
