INTERVIEWEE: SHIKHANDIN, POET AND NOVELIST
INTERVIEWER: KABIR DEB, INTERVIEW EDITOR
Kabir Deb: Hello ma’am! I hope you’re doing well. In my first question, I want to address the equator of the book. How’s death different for a man and a woman in a patriarchal society?
Shikhandin: Hello Kabir! Hope December is going well for you and everybody at USAWA!
Thank you and Usawa for your support.
You have posed interesting questions that require careful pondering.
Now to respond to your first question:
India is such a multi-layered nation, with each layer having its own set of layers. It is not easy to provide straightforward answers. By and large, women are not perceived to be the primary breadwinners nor regarded as heads of the family. Sons are preferred and daughters are still considered as burdens. So, on the surface, a man’s/boy’s death will cause more reaction as against that of a woman/girl. That said, the tragedy of death and bereavement is closely linked with the economic, social and educational status of the family. The scale of difference varies according to that status. Grief has no boundaries, and yet how the bereaved are treated depends on the status of the family in our patriarchal society. The death of a rich family’s matriarch for example, as against a poor homeless man cannot be compared on the basis of their genders. Ditto for the bereaved families. In my novella, the characters are middleclass Indians, they represent the common people, which means the bereaved and the dead are both tied down to the norms laid down by our society.
KD: The invitation of happiness is our fundamental subject or craving. How does the idea of happiness vary with gender and most importantly, with the permanence of oppression?
S: Yes, it is true. The invitation of happiness is our fundamental subject or craving. And rightfully so. Happy humans create a happy, conducive and crime-free society. And humans are social animals. Here, too, there are no straightforward answers. I don’t think it has to do with gender. Rather it is the person’s upbringing. I know many men who put themselves last and others first, in their pursuit of happiness. And the reverse as well. Likewise with women. Nonetheless, in a
son-craving society, boys are coddled much more and therefore likely to grow up to be self-centred and self-serving adults. I would like to emphasise that it is not rooted in the chromosomes. It is a learned behaviour. Taught, sadly but true, first and foremost by the mothers.
Oppression has existed for so long, it seems embedded in our DNA. It is written into the human society. But while women are always at the receiving end of the oppression stick, I need to point out that women are oppressors as well. When they perpetuate ideas of toxic patriarchy, and discriminate against their daughters and daughters-in-law, their female staff (domestic workers especially), and members of underprivileged communities, they are no less than male aggressors. The idea of happiness varies according to the individual’s sense of humanity, self-worth and self-fulfilment. It is not gender specific.
KD: What’s the primary responsibility of a woman to maintain a homeostasis between the mind and her body when chaos is something most women have to acquire in her day-to-day life?
S: You’ve raised an interesting point. It makes me wonder how many women are actually aware of the chaos around them. When you have been submerged in something for centuries, you no longer see it as something disruptive and chaotic. It becomes the order of things. That is the tragedy.
For women to find that homeostasis, they must first have the knowledge and the ability to comprehend that the very notion of women requiring a separate route to reach this goal is itself a fallacy. Women must understand that they have equal right and equal duty towards themselves.
We have learned differently during the past few decades, but this knowledge still is beyond the grasp of ordinary women, like Mamma in my novella, unlike the woman who lays on the red oxide floor lost in contemplation even as she remains a voyeur.
Once women possess the knowledge, they will also understand that the responsibility to maintain homeostasis between the mind and the body has the same weight and authority, the same right and same quality, as that of men, no less.
As humans we pursue happiness, which comes from a balance of spiritual, psychological and physical needs fulfilled. The process of acquiring this balance is the same for both genders, without discrimination or gender tags, and therefore the hurdles are also the same. Women need to realise this. There are no separate paths for men and women. That wall must be smashed.
KD: By your observation, how is the literary community, or to be more precise, readers of the present time approaching woman writers of India?
S: Aren’t we becoming too west-centric these days in our literary thinking, especially in the Indian-English literary scene? As a girl, I do not recall women writers in any of our regional languages being cloistered as “Women” writers. Writers were writers. A Gulshan Nanda book, the stuff of Bollywood movies, did not carry the intellectual weight of work by Mahadevi Verma or Shivani, etc. I don’t remember our mothers and locality aunties, who read voraciously and listened to the radio as well, and nor our fathers and uncles and granddads etc. judging a writer according to his/her gender.
I need to point out here, that while the published work was not dissed or lauded based on the writer’s gender, most women who wrote often faced unsurmountable pressures, and very little support from community or family, as they struggled to balance their creativity with their responsibilities.
The writers writing in English, and Shashi Deshpande comes immediately to mind, did face discrimination and condescension; often being ‘waved away’ as women writers. And, yes, all the English books we read, somehow managed to impress us with the writer’s gender.
These days, we first look at a writer’s gender and then the work. There seems to be a notion that if a writer is a woman the work will be of a certain “type.” This is a western attitude. Which was one of the reasons why I switched to “Shikhandin.” I felt it best suited my thinking and the way I write and what I write. I am comfortable in my gender-fluid writing persona, even though in my personal life I am proud to be a woman. Another thought here, honestly speaking, if you remove the names from the books, can you really tell the writer’s gender from the text?
KD: In a market of big presses, why did you approach a small press like Red River? Also, what do you think is the MVP of small presses operating in India?
S: Thank you for asking. I did not approach Red River. Rather, they approached me. I accepted gladly, because I respect Dibyajyoti Sarma and Sucharita Dutta-Asane.
Dibya had published my poetry book After Grief a couple of years earlier. Apart from being a talented poet and writer himself, he is also a fabulous artist and it was his sensitive and unusual cover design of After Grief that made me rethink my original manuscript and include poems that would do greater justice to the theme. And here I must add, that the last poem ‘Laughter’ was written especially because of the cover design. Working with Dibya was smooth and open. I count on him as a friend, and respect his professional judgement.
I was familiar with Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s writing, having read her first book and other stories published in journals and anthologies. But only after I interacted with her when she was editor of KITAAB, did I realise that she is not only a gifted writer but a talented editor as well. Working with Sucharita on this novella has been an enriching experience for me. She is meticulous and dauntless in her search for perfection. This is an important quality in an editor, because writers tend to love their own work overmuch. Sucharita is also able to see the micro and the macro in a manuscript, so the story is never lost in her capable hands. To me Sucharita is a friend I cherish, an editor I respect and a writing colleague I admire.
Regarding the MVP of small presses, I doubt it is very different from that of large presses. Moreover, these days, it is increasingly the responsibility of the author. Unless you are a huge literary name, in that case your MVP is already made in gold.
KD: Women publishers and editors have been growing exponentially. How do you think literature and art grows differently under a male centric and a woman centric publishing house?
S: Yes. And I am glad to see this growth. The Indian publishing scene has come a long way. Having more women editors and publishers means that the gems that hide in plain sight are getting noticed and polished. Marginalised non-male (female and members of the LGBTQ communities) voices are getting greater exposure, though even more is needed. These voices were glossed over earlier. I must add here though, that the male centric publishing world in the west is different from that of India. I think, despite the limitations of the stereotypical male publishing gaze, there was and is greater sensitivity towards literary voices in our country. But to respond to your question specifically, feminist presses and presses helmed by women who are looking to publish more marginalised voices are different from the general presses in their ethos and publishing programmes, even when the latter is headed by women. So, it is more a case of feminist and marginalised-voice-centric presses versus general presses, instead of women publishers and editors versus male that one needs to think about.
KD: Could you kindly recommend five of your favourite books from the past ten years?
S: Very happy to share this list. Thank you for asking. My list has more than five, but I will stick to your number! 😊
1/ The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
2/ The Trotternama by I Allen Sealy
3/ Piranesi by Susanna Clarke
4/ Unlondon by China Mieville, also Railsea by same author
5/ The Testaments by Margaret Atwood
KD: What do you think about our magazine, the Usawa Literary Review?
S: Great question! I have been reading Usawa Literary Review from its inception. It was unusual in its stance, and in a way a pioneer. I love how it has retained its core values and managed to grow and include a diverse range of voices without losing any of it. Many journals begin with good intentions but falter midway or close. Usawa has stayed true to its mission and vision, like a movement. I wish Usawa a very, very long journey ahead, and look forward to future issues.
Shikhandin is the pen name of an Indian author of seven books, including, “Impetuous Women” (Penguin-Random House India), “Immoderate Men” (Speaking Tiger), “The Woman on the Red Oxide Floor” (Red River Story, India), “After Grief – Poems” (Red River, India), “Vibhuti Cat” (Duckbill-Penguin-Random House India). In 2024 she was shortlisted for the Asian Prize for Short Fiction. She is a two times Pushcart nominee – Aeolian Harp 2019 (USA) and Cha: An Asian Literary Journal 2011 (Hong Kong), and a Best of the Net nominee – Yellow Arrow Publishing 2023 (USA). Her other honours include, runner up – George Floyd Short Story Contest 2020 (UK), winner – Children First Contest curated by Duckbill in association with Parag an initiative of Tata Trust in 2017, first prize – Brilliant Flash Fiction Contest 2019 (USA), runner up – Erbacce Poetry Prize 2018 (UK), winner 35th Moon Prize (Writing in a Woman’s Voice: USA), first Runner up – The DNA-OoP Short Story Contest 2016 (India), second prize – India Currents Katha Short Story Contest 2016 (USA), first prize winner Anam Cara Short Fiction Competition 2012 (Ireland), long list – Bridport Poetry Prize 2006 (UK) and finalist – Aesthetica Poetry Contest 2010 (UK). Shikhandin’s prose and poetry have been widely published in India and abroad in online and print journals and anthologies.
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