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Scroll.in
8 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Scroll.in
The JCB Prize for Literature has shut down. What else has ended with it?
One full month after the announcement of the 2025 International Booker Prize winner, it is difficult to enter a London bookshop without seeing the winning book, Kannada writer Banu Mushtaq's short story collection Heart Lamp, translated by Deepa Bhasthi, displayed in full glory. From the Foyle's shop window in Charing Cross to special tables in Waterstones and Hatchard's, not to mention dozens of independent bookshops, Heart Lamp is, quite literally, everywhere. While sales figures in the UK are yet to be disclosed publicly, publishers And Other Stories, whose decision to publish the book in the UK made it eligible for the prize, have been working hard to meet the demand from online and in-store buyers. In India, sales are believed to be closing in on the 100,000-mark, an incredible achievement by any standards for a work of serious contemporary fiction, and a translation, and a volume of short stories, at that. These figures are in the same orbit as the sales of Geetanjali Shree's Tomb of Sand, the English translation of Ret Samadhi by Daisy Rockwell, which won the International Booker Prize in 2022, and of the Hindi original. Clearly, when an Indian book wins the International Booker Prize for its English translation, readers – some regular, many more sporadic – in the country snap up copies. Earlier, we saw the same success for Indian or India-linked winners of the Booker Prize – Salman Rushdie, Arundhati Roy, Kiran Desai, and Aravind Adiga – for their books. The end of the story This is exactly what the JCB Prize for Literature had wanted, hoped and expected to achieve with its winning titles in India. Launched in 2018, the prize picked seven winners in seven successive years, awarding the writer Rs 25 lakh, and the translator, when there was one, Rs 10 lakh, before quietly disappearing. The prize that had positioned itself as the Indian Booker, and had definitive plans to make the same impact on the world of books in India, had the unlikeliest of endings – at least, in the form in which it had begun life – by simply ghosting the entire literary world. No announcement, no farewell, no summing up. Of course, the modest ceremony for the 2024 award, held not at a swank venue but at the sponsor's corporate headquarters in Faridabad, Haryana, held a clue. So did the near-total lack of marketing for the shortlisted books. Everyone in the literary establishment, especially in Delhi, had an inkling that this might be a swansong. There is still no formal acknowledgement, but with no announcements having been made for the 2025 awards, it is obviously the end of the prize as we knew it. The only official document in this context is a document that has been uploaded to the website of the JCB Prize for Literature, stating, among other things, that the 'Notice is hereby given that in pursuance of sub-section (4)(ii) of section 8 of the Companies Act, 2013, an application has been made by JCB Literature Foundation to the Registrar of companies, Delhi & Haryana at Delhi for revocation of the licence issued to it under section 8(5) of the companies Act, 2013. After the cancellation of license, the company will be required to add the word 'Private Limited' to its name in place of 'Foundation'. The same document, however, lists activities that are more or less the same as those involved in running the prize. The same mills that churned with the rumours of closure have also been suggesting that the JCB Prize might be back, in a different form. The organisers have commissioned a survey to assess the impact of the prize over seven years, and many people in the world of books have been interviewed for it. But whether the findings will form the basis of a newer version of the prize, or will feed into a closure report, is a closely guarded secret at the moment. Play Why, then, did the JCB Prize fold? Why, for that matter, did its big-ticket predecessor, the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature go the same way after its 2019 awards, the ninth in the series that gave $25,000 to the winning title (shared equally between the writer and translator in case of a translated book). The onset of the pandemic may have forced the hands of the sponsors, although there, too, no formal announcement was made. Still, the JCB Prize for Literature came on the scene with a grand flourish and with seemingly powerful intent, as exemplified by the extravagant marketing, advertising, and event-management that went into the first two years of the prize with Rana Dasgupta as the director. Dasgupta, for reasons never made clear to the literary community, was let go of immediately after the second year of the prize, and a few months later, Mita Kapur, founder of the literary agency Siyahi, took over, leading the prize over the next five years, including the difficult ones during the pandemic. To its credit, despite having to go online for everything, the prize did not falter in its commitment during this period, returning to something like the grandeur of its pre-pandemic version from 2022 onwards. What changed, then, forcing the decision to close down? Maybe it is important to accept and acknowledge here that the corporate entity behind the prize, JCB, has had its own inadvertent image problem in India with its bulldozers being pressed into service for demolition of private property as a means of punitive administrative steps undertaken by several state governments. This even led to an open letter criticising the prize, signed by over 120 writers, translators, and publishers in 2024. But the company, of course, has not gone public with its reasons for stopping – or, at the very least, pausing – the prize. Did the prize make an impact? Perhaps the more important question, however, is what sort of JCB-Prize-shaped hole there will be in India's literary world now. To make even informed guesses, it is, of course, necessary to consider the achievements of the prize over its seven years. And the very first question here is, are seven years long enough for a literary prize to have made significant effect? The JCB Prize for Literature was by no means the first high-profile literary prize in India. The Crossword Book Award was instituted by the bookshop chain back in 1998 and continues to be run despite a brief break. The Hindu Literary Prize began life in 2010, continuing the till the outbreak of the pandemic in 2019. The Sahitya Akademi awards were established as far back as in 1954, and continue to be given out. And there was, of course, the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature. Stepping as it did into a space already primed for literary awards, the JCB Prize had the luxury of being able to hit the ground running. Given this backdrop, seven years was long enough to build on an impactful beginning. For comparison, remember that Tomb of Sand won the International Booker in its seventh year. The greatest opportunity for the prize was to create interest – and, by extension, a return to a reading culture – in not just the winning book but the entire list of shortlisted and even longlisted titles. Over seven years, these numbered 71 (in 2019, two of Perumal Murugan's novels were considered as a combined work) and 35, respectively, amounting to a fine showcase of fiction from India. And yet, despite efforts ranging from special films, appearances at literary festivals, and bookshop partnerships, none of the novels could be said to have gained a boost because of their appearance on the longlist or shortlist. Why, even the winning books have not reported anything remotely close to the kind of sales that India's two International Booker Prize winners did. Consider the seven fine novels that have won the JCB Prize between 2018 and 2024. 2018: Jasmine Days, Benyamin, translated from the Malayalam by Shahnaz Habib. 2019: The Far Field, Madhuri Vijay. 2020: Moustache, S Hareesh, translated from the Malayalam by Jayasree Kalathil. 2021: Delhi, A Soliloquy, M Mukundan, translated from the Malayalam by Fathima EV and Nandakumar K. 2022: The Paradise of Food, Khalid Jawed, translated from the Urdu by Baran Farooqi. 2023: Fire Bird, Perumal Murugan, translated from the Tamil by Janaki Kannan. 2024: Lorenzo Searches for the Meaning of Life, Upamanyu Chatterjee. While official sales figures are not available, the informal response from publishers was that none of these books became break-out successes among book-buyers. Play Arguably the most important actual achievement of the prize, therefore, was to create expectations of winning, among writers and publishers. For the first time, both of these groups thought actively about the possibility of winning the prize when they put out a title. Perhaps the great change in publishing programmes came because of the decision of the prize to consider translated books as well as those written in English. As many as 19 of the 36 shortlisted titles over seven years have been translations from various Indian languages. While it might be an exaggeration to state that publishers looked at translations with greater intent because of the chances of one of them winning the prize, there was undoubtedly a renewed focus on translated because of the prize. The impact of the end of the prize, then, will be felt mostly by the publishing community. Most of all, probably, by the writers and translators who will not win the Rs 25-lakh and Rs 10-lakh purses. With serious writing being a monetarily dismal practice in India, awards like these can go a long way towards supporting future work by prize-winning authors. For readers, unfortunately, the closure of the prize may have very little impact. Still, the JCB Prize for Literature has create a model. The literary community will certainly be hoping for a second version of the prize – or a new one to replace it.
The Hindu
21 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Beyond Heart Lamp's success: Are translators getting the credit that's due?
'Against Italics' - Deepa Bhasthi's translator's note for Heart Lamp, which won the International Booker Prize 2025, made headlines. The translator's note section, which is usually skipped, drew attention this time. 'Setting aside the futile debate of what is lost and found in translation', Ms. Bhasthi talks about her deliberate choice to not use italics for the Kannada, Urdu, and Arabic words that remain untranslated in English. Ms. Bhasthi ends the translator's note saying, 'Italics serve to not only distract visually, but more importantly, they announce words as imported from another language, exoticising them and keeping them alien to English. By not italicising them, I hope the reader can come to these words without interference, and in the process of reading with the flow, perhaps even learn a new word or two in another language. Same goes for footnotes – there are none'. While talking to The Hindu, Ms. Bhasthi says this translator's note has been met with a lot of love and care, and attention by readers as well. One of the reasons why words are italicised in translated texts is that there may be no exact equivalent in the target language of translation ~ seen as untranslatability. Until some years ago, this idea of untranslatability was the prominent discourse in translated literature, viewed negatively. Conversations about translated texts have, however, become more nuanced now, and translation is coming to be seen as a creative process as much as writing. As translators claim creative agency and push back against conventions like italicisation, the way a translator's role is perceived is evolving. From what's lost to what's found Ms. Bhasthi prefers the term writer-translator over just translator, which reduces the translator's job to one less than the writer. She says translation is as much a creative practice as writing, and autonomy in translation is important, as without it, her job would be no different than ChatGPT. 'That said, of course, if the author is living, it is always nice to be in conversation with them about their stories and, you know, get insights', she says. Moutushi Mukherjee, Commissioning Editor at Penguin Random House India, states that translators are now able to talk more about the tremendous impact a translation can have on expanding a literary heritage to wider audiences. She notes that there is a growing number of enthusiastic and resourceful translators in the country, which she sees as a very positive development. Ms. Mukherjee adds that the translators themselves are now more vocal about their role, putting themselves out there, so to speak, and emphasizing their contributions. According to Ms. Mukherjee, wins like Tomb of Sand (for Daisy Rockwell) and Heart Lamp (for Deepa Bhasthi) have also, obviously, changed the way readers perceive the translator. Translator visibility on book covers The book cover for Heart Lamp, published by Penguin, features an artwork at the top, followed by the book title and subtitle in red and sky blue-colored fonts, respectively. The next prominent feature is the author's name, Banu Mushtaq, spaced across the centre of the cover. It is then followed by Ms. Bhasthi's name in a smaller font, highlighting her 'Winner of the English PEN Translates Award 2024' achievement. A similar pattern of book covers is visible in the Perennial translation series by Harper Collins, and their back covers provide a brief introduction to both the author and the translator. This wasn't always the norm. Ms. Bhasthi says this visibility on the book cover is much better than until a few years ago, as translators' names would be somewhere inside the book and not on the cover. But now nearly all publishers put the translator's name on the cover. In a 2016 opinion piece for The Hindu, translator S. Krishnamurthy writes, 'Except on the title page and the cover, nowhere else will you see your name or any other details about you (translator). If your name is an ubiquitous sort, as is mine, nobody will even know you are the translator, unless you tell them'. Ms. Bhasthi says there still needs to be a lot of awareness about this, and it needs to start with the media. She states that there is an attitude that continues to persist in the media, especially, where somehow it is enough to just name the writer of the original work and not name the writer-translator who has brought the work into English or whatever other language. Ms. Bhasthi says we have certainly come a long way, but she thinks we still have a very long way to go before writer-translators are also seen on an equal footing with the writers in the original languages as well. Stepping aside from India, the research paper, 'Examining Intersemiotic translation of book covers as a medium of culture transfer,' was published in 2018. Among other aspects, it attempts to concentrate on the elements and criteria that are directly related to the visibility of translators. It takes into account five translations of Ernest Hemingway's, 'The Old Man and the Sea', in Iran, one of the most translated books in the country. The research paper finds that the title is designed with the biggest font, and then the name of the author in a quite smaller font, and lastly, the name of the translator is printed in the smallest font. 'It is also worth mentioning that in two works, the name of the translator is not even printed on the front cover, i.e., Manzoori and Parsay translations. In other words, the mentioned pattern prioritises the importance of each item: first the work, then the author, and last the translator. These covers also don't provide specific information in the book for introducing the translator or his/her other translated works to the interested readers', the paper says. In the Indian publishing industry the scene has changed. Urvashi Butalia, publisher, teacher and activist, says, 'There is greater acknowledgement and this is evident in all the things such as larger fonts, better placement, and also in including translators in media events. By contrast, I've not seen many reviews that mention names of translators, although again I could be wrong'. Ms. Mukherjee says credit is very important. She states that a simple act of giving credit to the translator on the cover of the book, and yes, equal weightage inside the book, has gone a long way, in her personal experience. Ms. Mukherjee also says we should expand that credit in a broader sense: include the translator in all marketing and publicity details, retail campaigns, and general discussion about the book. She emphasizes giving the translator the visibility they deserve across festivals and awards. According to Ms. Mukherjee, if we want to give visibility to translators, we must do so collaboratively, across all stakeholders. Promoting translated literature Translators are being acknowledged as co-creators in the literary process and not as secondary personas. There is a drive for better visibility of translators through book publicity campaigns, panel discussions, and other media. 'However, broader industry support and consistent credit across marketing, media, and events are still needed. I do think it's not enough for a few publishers and award ceremonies to promote translation literature. We need more publishing groups, more juries, and certainly, more of the mainstream media, supporting and recognising the significance of literature in translation', says Dharini Bhaskar, Associate Publisher, Literary at HarperCollins India. It helps to keep translation central to all conversations to do with books and literature. For instance, on World Book Day, Harper Collins had a full translation panel—which included Mini Krishnan, Sheela Tomy, Jayasree Kalathil, and Ministhy—and they spoke about the challenges faced by translators and the space translation literature occupies in the literary firmament. On how they bridge this gap, Ms. Bhaskar says, 'For one, we give literature in translation as much prominence as the poems and novels, and non-fiction originally published in English. Translation literature not only gets equal editorial care and attention but also has the full support of both the sales and marketing teams. We promote our works of translation—and not just when they're nominated for awards—and back translator and author equally. For they're a team. The book belongs to both of them'. Ms. Mukherjee says their publicity campaigns include the translator along with the author; this is without exception, and they will never have it any other way. She states that they make it clear at the outset to the author as well as the agent that the translator is going to be equally involved in the editing process, in planning publicity, and even on decisions pertaining to the cover of the book. Ms. Mukherjee says the translator has equal space (and equal say) on the journey of the book, both during and after its publication. Zubaan recently began a translation collaboration with Ashoka University called Women Translate Women. Every event for the books in this series has had translators present. Ms. Butalia says, 'This is also the case with many other publishers – in fact, several mainstream publishers now employ editors whose main task is to source translated manuscripts. This is a very positive development'. Are readers more willing to buy translated books? Publishers say winning the International Booker does drive sales of translated works. Though publishing houses have been increasingly taking steps to highlight the work of the translator alongside the author, the media lags in giving translators due credit. Readers, too, are increasingly open to buying translations, though Western approval still influences Indian buying habits. Ms. Bhasthi says there has been a lot of love that the translation of Heart Lamp has received, apart from the stories, and she is very grateful for that. She highlights the importance of the International Booker Prize giving equal emphasis to both the writer-translators and the writers from the original language. 'So, I think that attention is very important for translations and writer translators as well', she says. Talking about the media coverage Heart Lamp received, Ms. Bhaskar says there is immediate media coverage once a book is longlisted or shortlisted for a prestigious award, and such coverage doubles if the book wins. She adds that this kind of visibility has a direct impact on sales. 'This, in turn, has a direct impact on sales', she says. Ms. Bhaskar says they have seen sales numbers of books spiralling the moment they win prestigious awards. She notes that the ripples spread far, and that major wins typically benefit all literature coming out in a certain language. She emphasizes that such recognition also helps literature in translation overall, and sometimes even specific genres like poetry or short fiction. It also bodes well for literature in translation (as a whole), and sometimes, it bodes well for certain genres. Ms. Bhaskar points out that very often, in India, readers look for approval abroad before buying a book published locally. She stresses the need for Indian readers to start recognising the wealth of literature already available in the country—in English, in translation, and in regional languages—and to start supporting these books without necessarily waiting for validation from the West. Ms. Butalia says readers are more willing to buy translated works in general, perhaps this is because translated books are also more visible now, both in offline and in online bookshops. And they are better marketed, as books in their own right and not as poor cousins of an original. Ms. Bhasthi says that compared to other literary fiction, translated fiction is still not as widely read as it should be in a diverse country like India. She expresses hope that readers show more interest in translated fiction, and specifically mentions Kannada as one of the more under-translated languages in South India. Ms. Bhasthi says'I hope more translators bring forth some of the extraordinary works that we have in my language.'
The Hindu
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Literature Across Borders
Published in the wake of the International Booker Prize win for Heart Lamp by Kannada writer Banu Mushtaq and translator Deepa Bhasthi, this special digital edition from The Hindu explores how Indian literature travels across languages—and what gets transformed along the way. In a country where language is identity, culture, and memory, translation is not just a literary act; it is a bridge. This collection brings together some of the most insightful voices in the field: writers, translators, publishers, and scholars reflecting on the art, politics, and emotion behind Indian writing in English translation. What's Inside Explore 11 essays and interviews that decode the invisible yet powerful force of translation in Indian literature: · Lost and found in translation By Urvashi Butalia · Discovering the world of Kannada in English By N.S. Gundur · I made it a point to translate with an accent Interview with Deepa Bhasthi by Preeti Zachariah · How Perumal Murugan broke the glass ceiling By Kannan Sundaram · Cross-cultural currents and literary inventions in Malayalam literature By Navamy Sudhish · From 'anuvad' or translation to 'samvad' and dialogue By Anuj Kumar · Two-way bridge: The Journey of Marathi literature By Prathmesh Kher · Stories from unheard corners of the Northeast By Sudipta Datta · The art of assembling a glossary By Mini Krishnan · Catching the nuances of original texts By Ramya Kannan · The anxieties of the Indian translator By Arunava Sinha Each chapter offers a unique perspective, revealing how translation shapes what we read, how we understand it, and who gets heard. Literature Across Borders is available free for all digital subscribers of The Hindu Group. Non-subscribers can also purchase the e-book on Amazon To download a sample of the e-book : To buy the e-book from Amazon: To download the PDF version for the book, subscribe here:
Free Malaysia Today
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Free Malaysia Today
Petals and thorns: India's Booker prize author Banu Mushtaq
Indian author Banu Mushtaq won the coveted literature prize for her collection of 12 short stories titled 'Heart Lamp'. (AFP pic) HASSAN : All writers draw on their experience, whether consciously or not, says Indian author Banu Mushtaq – including the titular tale of attempted self-immolation in her International Booker Prize-winning short story collection. Mushtaq, who won the coveted literature prize as the first author writing in Kannada – an Indian regional language – said the author's responsibility is to reflect the truth. 'You cannot simply write describing a rose,' said the 77-year-old, who is also a lawyer and activist. 'You cannot say it has got such a fragrance, such petals, such colour. You have to write about the thorns also. It is your responsibility, and you have to do it.' Her book 'Heart Lamp', a collection of 12 powerful short stories, is also her first book translated into English, with the prize shared with her translator Deepa Bhasthi. Critics praised the collection for its dry and gentle humour, and its searing commentary on the patriarchy, caste and religion. Mushtaq has carved an alternative path in life, challenging societal restrictions and perceptions. As a young girl worried about her future, she said she started writing to improve her 'chances of marriage'. Born into a Muslim family in 1948, she studied in Kannada, which is spoken mostly in India's southern Karnataka state by around 43 million people, rather than Urdu, the language of Islamic texts in India and which most Muslim girls learnt. She attended college, and worked as a journalist and also as a high school teacher. 'Confused' But after marrying for love, Mushtaq found her life constricted. 'I was not allowed to have any intellectual activities. I was not allowed to write,' she said. 'I was in that vacuum. That harmed me.' She recounted how as a young mother aged around 27 with possible postpartum depression, and ground down by domestic life, had doused petrol on herself and on the 'spur of a moment' readied to set herself on fire. Her husband rushed to her with their three-month-old daughter. 'He took the baby and put her on my feet, and he drew my attention to her and he hugged me, and he stopped me,' Mushtaq told AFP. The experience is nearly mirrored in her book – in its case, the protagonist is stopped by her daughter. 'People get confused that it might be my life,' the writer said. Explaining that while not her exact story, 'consciously or subconsciously, something of the author, it reflects in her or his writing'. Books line the walls in Mushtaq's home, in the small southern Indian town of Hassan. Her many awards and certificates – including a replica of the Booker prize she won in London in May – are also on display. She joked that she was born to write – at least that is what a Hindu astrological birth chart said about her future. 'I don't know how it was there, but I have seen the birth chart,' Mushtaq said with a laugh, speaking in English. The award has changed her life 'in a positive way', she added, while noting the fame has been a little overwhelming. 'I am not against the people, I love people,' she said referring to the stream of visitors she gets to her home. 'But with this, a lot of prominence is given to me, and I don't have any time for writing. I feel something odd… Writing gives me a lot of pleasure, a lot of relief.' 'Patriarchy everywhere' Mushtaq's body of work spans six short story collections, an essay collection and poetry. The stories in 'Heart Lamp' were chosen from the six short story collections, dating back to 1990. The Booker jury hailed her characters – from spirited grandmothers to bumbling religious clerics – as 'astonishing portraits of survival and resilience'. The stories portray Muslim women going through terrible experiences, including domestic violence, the death of children and extramarital affairs. Mushtaq said that while the main characters in her books are all Muslim women, the issues are universal. 'They (women) suffer this type of suppression and this type of exploitation, this type of patriarchy everywhere,' she said. 'A woman is a woman, all over the world.' While accepting that even the people for whom she writes may not like her work, Mushtaq said she remained dedicated to providing wider truths. 'I have to say what is necessary for the society,' she said. 'The writer is always pro-people… With the people, and for the people.'
Khaleej Times
08-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Khaleej Times
Petals and thorns: India's Booker prize author Banu Mushtaq
All writers draw on their experience, whether consciously or not, says Indian author Banu Mushtaq — including the titular tale of attempted self-immolation in her International Booker Prize-winning short story collection. Mushtaq, who won the coveted literature prize as the first author writing in Kannada -- an Indian regional language -- said the author's responsibility is to reflect the truth. "You cannot simply write describing a rose," said the 77-year-old, who is also a lawyer and activist. "You cannot say it has got such a fragrance, such petals, such colour. You have to write about the thorns also. It is your responsibility, and you have to do it." Her book "Heart Lamp", a collection of 12 powerful short stories, is also her first book translated into English, with the prize shared with her translator Deepa Bhasthi. Critics praised the collection for its dry and gentle humour, and its searing commentary on the patriarchy, caste and religion. Mushtaq has carved an alternative path in life, challenging societal restrictions and perceptions. As a young girl worried about her future, she said she started writing to improve her "chances of marriage". Born into a Muslim family in 1948, she studied in Kannada, which is spoken mostly in India's southern Karnataka state by around 43 million people, rather than Urdu, the language of Islamic texts in India and which most Muslim girls learnt. She attended college, and worked as a journalist and also as a high school teacher. 'Confused' But after marrying for love, Mushtaq found her life constricted. "I was not allowed to have any intellectual activities. I was not allowed to write," she said. "I was in that vacuum. That harmed me." She recounted how as a young mother aged around 27 with possible postpartum depression, and ground down by domestic life, had doused petrol on herself and on the "spur of a moment" readied to set herself on fire. Her husband rushed to her with their three-month-old daughter. "He took the baby and put her on my feet, and he drew my attention to her and he hugged me, and he stopped me," Mushtaq told AFP. The experience is nearly mirrored in her book -- in its case, the protagonist is stopped by her daughter. "People get confused that it might be my life," the writer said. Explaining that while not her exact story, "consciously or subconsciously, something of the author, it reflects in her or his writing". Books line the walls in Mushtaq's home, in the small southern Indian town of Hassan. Her many awards and certificates -- including a replica of the Booker prize she won in London in May -- are also on display. She joked that she was born to write -- at least that is what a Hindu astrological birth chart said about her future. "I don't know how it was there, but I have seen the birth chart," Mushtaq said with a laugh, speaking in English. The award has changed her life "in a positive way", she added, while noting the fame has been a little overwhelming. "I am not against the people, I love people," she said referring to the stream of visitors she gets to her home. "But with this, a lot of prominence is given to me, and I don't have any time for writing. I feel something odd... Writing gives me a lot of pleasure, a lot of relief." 'Patriarchy everywhere' Mushtaq's body of work spans six short story collections, an essay collection and poetry. The stories in "Heart Lamp" were chosen from the six short story collections, dating back to 1990. The Booker jury hailed her characters -– from spirited grandmothers to bumbling religious clerics –- as "astonishing portraits of survival and resilience". The stories portray Muslim women going through terrible experiences, including domestic violence, the death of children and extramarital affairs. Mushtaq said that while the main characters in her books are all Muslim women, the issues are universal. "They (women) suffer this type of suppression and this type of exploitation, this type of patriarchy everywhere," she said. "A woman is a woman, all over the world." While accepting that even the people for whom she writes may not like her work, Mushtaq said she remained dedicated to providing wider truths. "I have to say what is necessary for the society," she said. "The writer is always pro-people... With the people, and for the people."
