On the Banks of the Pampa : A Novel

by Volga

'In her new poetic novel, Volga combines lyrical language and the love of nature with a fearlessly critical vision of timeless issues such as caste discrimination, territorial expansion, and the thoughtless destruction of nature. As usual, she has depicted classic characters from the Ramayana - Rama, Sabari, Kabanda and Hanuma, among others - from an original and surprising angle to create a deeply thought-provoking book.' - CHITRA BANERJEE DIVAKARUNI, author of The Palace of Illusions, The Forest of Enchantments and Independence

'This book is a deeply meaningful reimagining of the encounter between Rama and Sabari, full of questions that we need to ask ourselves today. In Volga's work, it is always women who hold wisdom and knowledge and here, her feminist perspective is as firm and confident as ever, without being strident. Purnima Tammireddy modulates this important voice beautifully so that its challenges and subversions ring loud and clear in English.' - ARSHIA SATTAR, author of Maryada: Searching for Dharma in the Ramayana

Genres: India, Fiction, Mythology, Retellings

164 pages, Paperback

Published July 25, 2025

About the author

Popuri Lalita Kumari, popularly known by her pen name Volga, is Telugu poet and writer well known for her feminist perspective. She was born in Guntur, Andhra Pradesh, India. She won the prestigious Sahitya Akademi Award in 2015 for her short story compilation 'Vimukta Kadha Samputi' in Telugu. Along with being a writer, she has also been a professor and head of scripting division in Tollywood. Her work initiated debates across the country about feminism, in times when the idea was hardly accepted. The Library of Congress has a collection of her most popular published works, including the English translations of selected short stories.

Reviews

[Gorab · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautiful retelling of a part of the Ramayana. Developing Sabari's character extensively - from her ancestors, to her upbringing, every aspect contributing to the books main theme!

What I Loved:
1. Super smooth translation.
2. Mindful questions raised in a short span - on disrupting/embracing nature, on "nagarikta" and its supposed progress, the real cost of developing cities and societies.
3. Ramayana is just a backdrop. Core concepts are pretty good, blending so well with the epic.
4. Calm and serene reading experience.
5. That last conversation where Sabari pours her heart out to Rama. Worth pondering over.
6. Excerpts from the interview between the author and the translator.

Overall:
Not to be read in silo if you aren't familiar with the Ramayana.
Recommended for its crisp story telling, blending mythology with thoughts on nature, patriarchy, caste, meaning of freedom and democracy.

[Ishita Mukherjee · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars rounded up! ⭐

An astonishing book from the inimitable Volga, yet again! Kudos to the translator Purnima Tammireddy for bringing Volga's gorgeous world around the Pampa river alive with her beautiful translation. You could almost visualize everything as you progress with the novel. I have no words to express my wonder at how intricately the author has connected environmentalism, societal hegemonic structures, feminism and war with a relatively lesser story from the 'Ramayana'. Trust Volga to never shy away from giving voice to the voiceless in her stories and critiquing the much venerated figures. This book is not for everyone. It challenges your knowledge and questions your belief in civilization. It can get ever so slightly preachy at times but it is sure to make you uncomfortable.

[Sahitya · Rating 4 out of 5]

I actually read the Telugu (original) of this translation, but GR doesn’t have that here, so I’m adding the English version to my Read pile. Been a long time since I read anything in Telugu so it took a while. A very interesting reimagining of the tale of Sabari from the Ramayana, and full of the author’s commentary on the rapid development in the name of civilization that is leading to many environmental and ecological disasters.

[Priyanka · Rating 4 out of 5]

On the banks of Pampa written by Telugu writer and poet P. Lalita Kumari is the reimagination of Sabari' encounter with Sri Rama. For the purpose of this story, Rama is imagined as a powerful prince rather than God incarnate. Sabari is a forest dweller who encounters him while on his quest to find Sita. The author has spun this tale around the idea of city dwellers and forest dwellers.

It talks about the dicotomty of development versus conservation through the eyes and views of these two prominent characters. It's a small book making it a quick read.

[Rendezvouswithbooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Indian Mythology has always been an integral part of my upbringing. From watching Ramayana on Doordarshan every Sunday morning 9 a.m. as a kid to dancing & evocating on those stories through my dance form, has been the way these stories got deeply embedded in my life

One of the most heart warming stories of Ramayana showcases love in its purest selfless form through the story of Sabari. She waits for the longest time to meet Rama & finely when she meets him, her devotion & love touches Rama deeply

While Rama has always been revered for his compassion, integrity, but as a society we have failed to acknowledge the extreme patriarchal side of him

But in Volga’s retelling, Sabari is the medium through which author shows us the side which as a society we should fight for

Here Sabari is not merely a symbol of an altruistic pious devotee. She decides to evolve with changing times. She just doesn't want to exist in symbolic form but rather wage a fight for caste hierarchies, emphasis the difference b/w Aranyavasis (forest dwellers) & Nagaravasis (city dwellers). Author's statements about ecological destruction of our earth are as scary as true. She very smartly juxtaposes Sabari with ecological reformists of our times

She doesn't believe in waiting for anyone anymore rather takes actions herself. She still reveres Ram but won't follow him blindfoldedly. She believes in taking rightful stance & fighting for it

Lyrics flow through the text, there are pauses to behold, prose that lingers, times where you feel sentences following your breathing pattern

Translation is delicious

The interview at the end of the book of Author & translator elaborates finely on the various subtexts

Fierce piece of ecofeminist writing with a fine commentary on politics, caste, this is a book not to be missed by any strata, culture, country. Every time that I read & re-read this book( which will happen quite a few times), I would be amazed by Volga's thinking skills, creative power & narration capabilities. She is one of those 'born once in a millennium' kind of author

I can't wait to read the rest of the books from this triptych. Madly in love with Volga's writing

Please READ IT NOW

QUOTES

- "You all have forgotten the basics. You act as if all of nature is one side and you’re on the other. Rama, aren’t we, too, a part of this infinite universe?"

- "The quivering water, blithely clinging on to the weightless specks of light begged them not to depart. 'No, we can't stay on,' said the light-streaks, adding enticingly, 'Instead, let us take you along on a journey, on the highways of the sky!"

- "I recommend a way of life that fosters nothing but love and compassion. Stop this relentless pursuit of the universe’s buried secrets. Instead, listen to its whispers. Our existence will find its meaning if we develop a keen ear for the subtle murmurs of the universe.”

[Shreenidhi R · Rating 3 out of 5]

Story Follows Sabari 🌿a sacred woman who played an important role in helping Shri Rama finding Sita through Hanuman and Sugreeva . The story explores Sabari’s childhood, her harsh life, and the circumstances that led her to live in the forest 🌳 near the banks of the Pampa River 🏞️. It also beautifully portrays her meeting with Shri Rama .

The writing is simple, poetic and beautiful ✨, capturing the essence of nature 🍃 in a very vivid way. This book made me reflect on who can truly be called “civilised” : those who exploit nature for their own benefit, or those who live in harmony with it 🌏. The book also touches upon strong themes such as caste discrimination, slavery, and the destruction of forests 🌳🔥.One aspect I didn’t like was the portrayal of Kabandha . In Ramayana he is depicted as a yaksha who was cursed and turned into a demon, who later attacks Rama and Lakshmana and is killed by them 🏹. However, in this book, he is shown as a good man who helps Sabari and is wrongfully killed by Rama and Lakshmana . This interpretation didn’t sit well with me.
Apart from that, I truly loved the book 🩷✨

[Nanditha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was introduced to Volga by a friend/mentor a few years ago and I fell in love with her feminist retellings of mythologies, particularly focusing on female protagonists and exploring angles that we usually don't think of/give importance to in the grand epics. "On the banks of the Pampa" does the same, centering Sabari's character from the Ramayana.

The book is gorgeously written, full of beautiful and vivid descriptions of nature and the forest, and is extremely relevant now with the whole "human versus nature" conflict which forms its crux. Volga manages to cover complex themes like deforestation, hunger for power, discrimination, hierarchies, and a lot more in under 150 pages. I wish more people knew of her works and read them.

[Natasha · Rating 5 out of 5]

Volga is one of the foremost writers in India today, and most of her books tackle themes of social and political relevance. Both her earlier works translated from Telugu to English, "Yashodhara" and "The Liberation of Sita", are retellings of mythological stories through the lens of gender and social justice. The third book in the series, On the Banks of the Pampa, is probably her most ambitious to date. She uses the little known and largely misrepresented story of Sabari from the Ramayana to raise very pertinent questions on the nature of development and the true meaning of civilisation?
Sabari was born an 'aranyavasi', a forest dweller, and her community was largely wiped out when the 'nagarvasis' decided they needed more land to expand. She escaped with her life, and under the tutelage of Matanga Muni learns to question the very definitions of knowledge and civilisation. Who, she asks, is truly civilized- is it someone who bends nature to his will, or is it someone who lives in harmony with nature? These questions are as relevant today as they were thousands of years ago when human beings gave up hunting and gathering to become agriculturists, and started building cities. The book may be extremely slim, but the questions that the author asks will stay with you forever.
The translation of the book is almost lyrical, and seeks to capture the essence of the book. The author and translator duo took the call to retain many of the words which defy translation. Words like 'gyanam', 'agyanam', 'aranyavasi' and 'nagarvasi' contain multitudes which would have been lost had they been translated into English. The description of the lush banks of lake Pampa where Sabari lives are so beautiful you can almost smell the fresh earth and hear the bird calls.
This is, in my opinion, Volga's best novel to date, and that is a huge accomplishment given the fact that I loved both the other novels I read. I read the book during #WomenInTranslation month

[May · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good point on preserving nature and how tribal women fight for it. Very eloquent writing of forests.

[Remyalara Mohan · Rating 3 out of 5]

On the Banks of the Pampa is a reimagining of the story of Sabari in the Ramayana, Book III: Aranya Kanda (The Forest Trek), Chapter (Sarga) 74. Sabari is the female forest-dwelling ascetic who embodies bhakti—unwavering and single-minded devotion to her Supreme Being.

The figure of Sabari in the original text cannot be straitjacketed contextually as a victim of gender, varna, or any other bias. In fact, the original text portrays her as a powerful ascetic (tapasi) whose extreme penance is fulfilled when her guru's prophecy is actualized. Sage Matanga had prophesied that, in recognition of her supreme focus and devotion, she would be entitled to join the souls of her gurus in the afterlife upon meeting Rama. Sabari is revered and treated with respect and awe by Rama and Lakshmana. Through her medium, they witness the beauty and all-encompassing power of nature, expressed through the waters of the Pampa River and the dense forests in which her hermitage exists, where she used to serve Sage Matanga during his lifetime.

She treats her divine guests hospitably and with deference, offering them water and fruits.

The release of Sabari's soul in a blaze of fire is also a symbolic event. She explains that, upon seeing the manifestation of her sublime devotion in the form of Rama's long-awaited visit, she is finally freed from the human shackles of greed, lust, anger, delusion, ego, pride, and other frailties. She has attained truth and realization. The worship of the divine as a force that destroys these inner enemies is philosophical.

The story of Sabari offering tasted and therefore "polluted" fruits, which were graciously accepted by Lord Rama, appears to be a later accretion and finds no mention in the original text.

Similarly, any reference to Sabari being "lower-born," a hunter's daughter who runs away to Sage Matanga's hermitage to escape her marriage and the animal sacrifices associated with its celebration, or any indication that she is treated in a patronizing manner by Rama and Lakshmana, is absent from the root text.

She is an evolved soul who speaks in a confident, learned, yet humble tone with her guests. Rama and Lakshmana learn much from her.

Sabari is clearly:

A forest dweller

A woman

Spiritually evolved (siddha, tapasi)

Aged

Deeply devoted to her gurus and her divine inspiration

With this background, Volga's retelling redeems some of the universality and power associated with the Sabari of the original text and strips away many of the traits that subsequent writers and poets have interpolated into the story over the centuries—traits that now dominate the versions circulating in popular culture. The writer also gives the story a beautiful twist by juxtaposing the pressing priorities of our modern existence onto this ancient narrative.



Forests as Civilisation's Alternative


Volga imagines the forests inhabited by Sabari not as wilderness awaiting conquest, but as a living ecosystem luxuriant with flora and fauna, colour and vibrancy, and governed by its own ethics, freedoms, and rhythms.

Before the expansion of cities and centralized rajyams, life among the aranyavasis is portrayed as peaceful, egalitarian, and deeply intertwined with nature.

There is no rigid discrimination between men and women. Labour is not divided by gender. People are free to choose their partners. Birth and death are accepted as natural continuities rather than occasions burdened with ritual anxiety. Children grow up amidst rivers, trees, and animals, forming bonds with nature as an inseparable part of existence.

The forests become symbols of a decentralized and pristine world where community, emotion, and ecology exist in harmony.

Civilisation as Alienation/ Purported Knowledge as Ignorance
The novel launches a fierce critique of nagarikata—urban "civilisation" rooted in kingdoms, hierarchy, extraction, and conquest. The nagaravasis dismiss forest life as primitive and uncivilized, yet their own world is shown to be emotionally barren and spiritually estranged.

Civilisation, according to the novel, distances human beings from nature, from other living beings, and ultimately from themselves. Religions, caste hierarchies, wars, massacres, untouchability, and endless greed are presented as consequences of systems built around power and domination.

The earth itself ceases to be a mother goddess and becomes instead a mine for extraction. Forests, islands, and hills are invaded in the name of progress. Nature is forced to yield beyond its capacity until it becomes barren.

Another binary position is the concept of Jnanam vs Ajnanam, where the modern tendency to value scientific knowledge and aggrandized notions of human endeavour which ends up destroying the rest of creation is contrasted with the more subtle forms of traditional knowledge and wisdom, where every form of life, every individual had value and was not just a cog in a merciless wheel.

The critique often feels startlingly contemporary—a commentary on ecological destruction, extractive economies, and the violence hidden beneath the language of development.

The Rejection of Rajya Dharma
One of the novel's most compelling ideas is its distinction between the dharma of individual beings and rajya dharma.

The universe does not revolve around human beings, nor does it privilege human existence above all else. Every species and every living being possesses its own way of being and therefore its own dharma.

This stands in opposition to the moral absolutism of kingdoms, which universalize their own codes as truth and the king as divinely anointed. The novel repeatedly questions the arrogance of centralized systems that impose singular notions of order, morality, and civilisation upon diverse worlds.

Sabari: Keeper of Memory
Storytelling Against Extinction
Sabari's desire to narrate the legacy of the late Matanga Muni to the wandering Sutapa stems from her longing to preserve a vanishing worldview and make it immortal through memory and storytelling.

Through Sabari's recollections, the reader encounters childhood memories of violent clashes between aranyavasis and nagaravasis—conflicts fought not merely over territory, but between fundamentally opposing ways of life.

Her family—Kannudu, Kabari, and Mannudu—roots her deeply within the forest world and its philosophy.

Nature as Mother
The Pampa as a Living Presence
The descriptions of the Pampa forests read like tributes to Mother Nature's maternal and all-encompassing embrace.

The forests pulse with birdsong, flowers, waterfalls, breeze, and colour. All six seasons seem to coexist harmoniously. Nature is not scenery here; it is sentient, nurturing, and emotionally restorative.

Even death is viewed differently among the aranyavasis. Death is not annihilation but a return to earth, fire, air, water, and sky. The dead continue watching over the living from the cosmos. Birth and death alike are accepted with gratitude and reverence as gifts of nature.

The Problem of Absolutism
When Critique Becomes Monochrome
For all its philosophical richness, the novel sometimes slips into stark binaries. The aranyavasis are often idealized as uniformly humane and egalitarian, while nagarikata is portrayed almost entirely through greed, hierarchy, and violence.

Similarly, the contrast between Matanga and his guru risks becoming overly simplistic. The novel itself acknowledges how humiliation and exclusion can psychologically wound individuals. If Sugreeva's rage and instability are explained through dispossession and humiliation, then the same interpretive lens can equally be applied to Matanga's rebellion after his humiliation by his mentor, who is shown chiding him for daring to question the rajya dharma of civilisation.

Yet Matanga's rage at being degraded as a person of lower birth is treated as self-evidently justified, while the author remains largely silent on the psychological complexities that might also have shaped his guru's actions and worldview.

The critique of caste, gender, and civilisation is powerful. Yet at times, the conflation of caste oppression, modern civilisation, and gender bias as being diametrically opposed to the idealism associated with traditional forest-dwelling systems renders the narrative somewhat monochromal, leaving insufficient room for the ambiguities and contradictions inherent in all human societies.

Human beings and civilisations rarely exist as purely oppressive or purely virtuous entities, and the novel is least convincing when it drifts toward moral absolutism.

Sutapa: The Necessary Doubter
Redeeming the Narrative from Unilateralism
Sutapa the weaver, wandering away from Ayodhya toward the sea and encountering Sabari, Hanuma, and Sugreeva along the way, becomes the novel's most important counterbalance.

Unlike many others, Sutapa remains questioning, sceptical, and intellectually restless. He refuses easy certainties and functions as the narrative's sceptic, though he achieves this with humility and openness.

His presence redeems the text from becoming entirely unilateral. Through him, the novel allows space for ambiguity, dialogue, and doubt amidst its otherwise uncompromising philosophical positions.

Final Reflections
Elegy for Vanishing Worlds
At its heart, On the Banks of the Pampa is less a retelling of the Ramayana than an ecological and philosophical lament for worlds erased by conquest, centralization, and the ideology of civilisation.

The novel is at its strongest when it interrogates power, greed, and the violence embedded within "progress." Its forests breathe with astonishing beauty and moral force.

Even so, the book lingers—like the sound of a river after dusk—as a haunting meditation on nature, memory, power, and the worlds sacrificed at the altar of empire and corrupt power structures.

[Bijoyini Ganguly · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first book of 2026 for me, so I will review it here. A strong narrative fable highlighting the oppression of the original dwellers of the land by freeloading expansionists, a practice as old as the Ramayana. Relevant today as our greed continues to displace people to dig mines, setup factories and what not.

[Kakoli · Rating 5 out of 5]

A retelling and a different take on Sabari and Lord Rama's encounter. A steady narration  relevant to present times with themes of power, caste, oppression and the pursuit of harmony of mankind with nature.

[Rahul Vishnoi · Rating 5 out of 5]

-Magnificent Piece of Work-
Review of 'On the Banks of the Pampa'

Quote Alert
"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧; 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬."

Everyone knows the story of Sabri. It's taught in schools and told by the grandmothers/mothers to their kids. Years ago, I read it in my Hindi prose 'Subodh Bharti' in ICSE curriculum. On the Banks of the Pampa tweaks the story a little bit and gives an intriguing backstory to the protagonist who has just been reduced to a footnote in the larger scheme of things.

Sabari's encounter with Rama is an important episode in the Ramayana. But who was Sabari, a forest-dweller who became Rama's ardent devotee? This is what Volga answers in her retelling of the legend of Sabri. In this story, Sabri is a forest dweller, an aranyavasi, who was once forced into slavery by an authoritarian state. She breaks free and the story then follows the journey of her liberation and awakening. She morphs into a voice of dissent for the ones considered lesser by others.

The story unfolds near the banks of Pampa and like a river, it flows gently. When it encounters huge boulders, it splashes against them, never breaking, never stopping. In that, it is as much the story of the river and the forest as it is of Sabri.

Giving her traditional twist to the narrative, Volga writes that the people who followed Ram into the jungle didn tto back but embarked upon their own journeys. Sutapa had ventured into the woods following his wronged prince, driven solely by sorrow. In time, he became a wanderer because he fell in love with the forests. Prince Ramachandra was not his priority any more. From starting the journey out of loyalty to his prince, Sutapa's ambition evolved into crossing the rivers and forests to reach the sea. His journey was no longer materialistic but spiritual.

Similarly, Volga has a strong dissenting voice. Her words weigh against authoritative regimes. She writes: "Everything on the banks of the Pampa was peaceful and serene until the menace called rajyam invaded their lives. In nearby jungles, the formidable built their centres of dominion. They began building cities. They stripped the forest for miles on end--cutting down the old, strong trees. Levelled the land, blasted through rock, carved out stones."

This is the final part of Volga's trilogy of feminist retellings of the Indian epics. It leaves many questions in mind: should the meaning of dharma be reconsidered? When will we reject ideologies that legitimize conquest and the exploitation of nature? Masterfully translated into English by Purnima Tammireddy, the story doesn't read like translation at all and I feel that's the biggest win for a translator. To be invisible and yet have a strong hand over the story, providing it shade to grow.

Pick it up today.

[Divya Shankar · Rating 5 out of 5]

On the Banks of the Pampa by Volga (pen name of author P Lalita Kumari) translated from Telugu by Purnima Tammireddy takes an episode from the epic Ramayana, extrapolates it and fashions an imagined retelling that's brilliantly packaged with socio-political messages that are the need of the hour. Dwelling upon Sabari, an old tribal woman’s encounter with Rama in the forests south of Vindhyas, this book critically analyses important issues like caste discrimination, man’s gluttony for greater power & control resulting in wars & massacres, his unending greed for land & natural resources that cause mindless & savage destruction.

Sabari, an aranyavasi (forest dweller) resides in the beautiful & bountiful forests on the banks of river Pampa in the hut of sage Matanga. How or why did Matanga Muni, an untouchable, come to these forests, what is his message to the world seeking enlightenment through penance? How did Sabari, the daughter of a happy aranyavasi couple, sister to two elder brothers find herself separated from her family and land up orphaned in the lap of nature in Pampa forests? Why is Sabari so intent on meeting Rama once before she dies? And who is Kabanda who finds refuge in Matanga Muni’s ashram? These questions find answers as Sabari recounts stories, heard, lived and experienced to Sutapa, a weaver from Ayodhya who follows his wronged and exiled crown prince Rama. As Sabari’s stories flow, a world caught in a tug of war between opposites unravels.

Who defines what is jnanam (knowledge)? What is nagarik (civilised) - living with less wants and more gratitude or treating nature like a commodity and plundering it to fuel one's sophisticated lifestyle? What is dharma (righteous path), is it right to violently force people out of their natural way of life to keep a promise made to someone else? What is it about human nature that breeds such animosity towards another? Sabari shares all the above questions in her conversation with Rama when they meet, a beautiful instance of how important dialogue is, not just when parties in it have the same opinion but actually when they have opposing thoughts/ideologies.

Sabari stands tall as the protagonist in this tale. Her ideology puts nature first in its entirety, in a state of harmony and delicate equilibrium, over man who is just a speck on Earth. That said, the lush forests on the bank of Pampa described in a lyrical language, the home to herds of tuskers, peacocks, ponna flowers and so many beautiful forms of life that shares a camaraderie with sun, moon and rain is just as important (maybe even bigger) a character. When you close this little gem, Sabari's question will stay with you forever - “But what does the universe lose if we don't exist?”

A slim & thought-provoking novella that shimmers with a firm feminist stance and reverence for Mother Earth, On the Banks of the Pampa boasts of a translation that's smooth with choices that ensure fidelity to the original. The insights section at its end is a superb treat.

[Vidhya Thakkar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having loved The Liberation of Sita, I was drawn to On the Banks of the Pampa the moment I came across it. I knew it would be another masterpiece, and it truly is, soulful, lyrical, and deeply moving. Volga once again breathes life into a forgotten voice from mythology, this time giving us the story of Sabari – not just as a devotee, but as a thinker, a seeker, and a powerful presence in her own right.

We all know the name Sabari — the devoted woman who waited years for Rama, offering him berries she first tasted herself. We’ve all heard stories of Sabari and Lord Rama, from various retellings and interpretations. But in this book, Volga offers a reimagined lens, a compelling new perspective. Who was Sabari, beyond that act of devotion? What was her story before she met Rama? What made her wait, and who was her guru, Matanga Muni? Volga dares to go deeper. She reimagines Sabari not as a footnote in Rama’s story, but as the centre of her own universe. This novel doesn’t just ask these questions; it answers them with grace and wisdom.

Sabari, a child of the Aranyavasi, is uprooted and relocated with her parents. But what they encounter is a horrific city governed by harsh rules, cruel systems and a life that feels more like imprisonment. When Sabari finds a moment to flee, she escapes, unsure of her parents’ fate, but determined to reclaim her freedom. She wakes up on the banks of the Pampa, where she reunites with her guru, Matanga Muni. From that moment on, the forest becomes her world, not just a shelter, but a place of spiritual liberation. In the calm of the forest, in the wisdom of her guru, she rediscovers herself. She listens, she learns, and she transforms.

Read full review here https://vidhyathakkar.com/book-review...

[Rose · Rating 5 out of 5]

Inspired by the characters from Ramayan, On the Banks of Pampa is the back story of Sabari. Starting from the struggles of her grandfather all the way to her final moments and her encounter with Rama. This little novella surprised me in the best way. The writing is so poised and gentle, yet somehow filled with emotion. The first 20–30 pages felt like stepping into a painting with lush forests, rivers, the quiet rhythm of the wilderness. I didn’t expect such simple prose to make me feel so much, but it did. There’s a love for nature woven through every line that mirrored my own.

The book has two very distinct parts. The first is just pure description, it's beautiful, almost meditative, an ode to the forest and the people who live in harmony with it. The second half becomes more conversational, almost like a debate between two ways of living: the “civilized” world of the city-dwellers or nagrikta and the life of the aranyavasis, the natives or tribals, who seem to understand community and coexistence far better than the people who claim to be more evolved.

And honestly, that contrast hit hard. The hypocrisy of the so-called civilized world is so clear here. The book doesn’t preach, it just quietly shows you how arrogance destroys and how gentleness survives. It feels, in a way, like a condensed version of everything that has been forgotten about the Hindu way of life: that we’re meant to live with nature, not above it, and that our wellbeing is tied to everything around us.

Even in such a short book, I felt a lot: sadness, admiration, frustration, hope. And somehow Volga manages to fit a conversation about colonization, belonging, inclusivity, culture and the cost of development into such a tiny space without ever making it feel heavy.

It’s beautiful, meaningful, and quietly powerful. I’m really glad I read it.

5/5

[Paree Punnj · Rating 5 out of 5]

On the Banks of the Pampa was such a beautiful surprise.

This was originally written in Telugu, and I genuinely think this is one of the finest translations I have ever read. Not once did it feel like I was reading something translated. The lyrical quality, the emotional depth, the imagery, everything flowed so naturally and gracefully. Usually, something gets lost in translation, especially when the original writing is rooted so deeply in culture and poetry, but this book retained all its soul.

The story is based on Sabari from the Ramayan, a character I admittedly did not know much about before picking this up. But this book gives her such depth, tenderness, and humanity that it subtly changes the way you look at the larger epic itself. It takes someone often placed at the margins of mythology and gives her a voice that feels intimate and unforgettable.

What truly stayed with me was the writing style. It is delicate and immersive without trying too hard. There is a certain stillness to the prose, yet the book remains incredibly engaging and fast-paced for such a short read.

I also really appreciated the conversations between the characters. The conflicts never felt black and white. Nobody was entirely wrong, but there was often a gap in lived realities and understanding, which made the interactions feel nuanced and painfully human.

And the women in this book were written with so much care. Strong, vulnerable, tender, resilient, all at once. I especially loved how the story resisted reducing female characters into simplistic archetypes. It offered a far more compassionate and layered perspective instead.

A deeply moving read that felt both mythological and incredibly human at the same time.

[Sheetal Bahl · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Liberation of Sita was a very interesting reimagining of some of the women in the epic Ramayana - their inner thoughts, their outward dialogues, their questioning and rejection of the many patriarchal norms of the times. But in this book, Volga's reimagining becomes both much more specific and expansive at the same time. She takes one marginal character - Sabari (immortalized through the phrase "sabari ke ber"), who represents "bhakti", and uses her to question not just the idea of devotion but also to talk about a whole bunch of eternal and contemporary themes.

Plot summary: Sabari lives in an ashram near the Pampa river after fleeing a brutal life in the city. She spends her time reflecting, caring for others, and comes to symbolize harmony between man and nature unblemished by modern trappings. She hears of Rama and his renouncement of the Ayodhya throne, and waits for years to meet and discuss this with him. They meet eventually, but the meeting is unlike what happens in the original story (avoiding spoilers here).

The book was sweeping in its scope - covering everything from knowledge and spirituality through feminism and patriarchy to ecology and environmentalism, and wove all those into a beautiful tapestry with great clarity and depth. This is all the more remarkable given that it's merely 100-odd pages long. And at no point did it feel didactic or stitled - her prose is easy and graceful.

And finally, the book just feels important - intended to make you think and question one's choices and the status quo in general. Strongly recommended.

[_booksagsm · Rating 4 out of 5]

On the Banks of the Pampa by Volga (Popuri Lalita Kumari) came to me as my very first introduction to this celebrated Telugu writer, thanks to HarperCollins. Volga is a powerful voice in Indian literature, known for her bold feminist outlook and her ability to question long-held ideas through storytelling. Winner of the Sahitya Akademi Award, she has been shaping debates on women, identity, and freedom for decades. This book gave me the chance to finally experience her work in English, beautifully translated by Purnima Tammireddy.

The novel reimagines Sabari from the Ramayana, not as a silent devotee but as a woman with her own thoughts, choices, and voice. Through Sabari’s journey, Volga shines a light on caste discrimination, the destruction of nature, and the meaning of civilisation. The conversations between Sabari and Rama are striking because they are not just about devotion but about questioning dharma, power, and humanity’s place in the world. What I loved most was how nature is treated as a living, breathing force—sometimes more important than humans themselves. The writing is lyrical, poetic, and makes you pause to think about the balance we often lose in our modern lives.

Reading this book also made me curious about Volga’s other works, especially The Liberation of Sita, which is often spoken about in the same breath as this one. I now understand why her stories are called both radical and soulful—they give space to voices we rarely hear in mythology. For me, On the Banks of the Pampa was not just a retelling but also a mirror, asking difficult questions about society, nature, and justice. It was a moving and unforgettable first encounter with Volga’s writing, and I am grateful HarperCollins brought this book into my hands.

[Sanjana Das · Rating 5 out of 5]

On the banks of the Pampa is a short but impactful book you can finish in a day! Consisting of only 125 pages, it beautifully describes the life of Sabari, from the famous epic The Ramayana.
But that is not all!
The book also highlights the lives of forest dwellers and how they were treated by the city dwellers during that era, who justified slavery and colonization. Although the descriptions are not graphic, they are heartbreaking. Sabari, a forest dweller, was brought up by her guru Matanga Muni and spent her life as a spiritual and wise woman. When she meets an Ayodhyavasi ( citizen of Ayodhya) and hears the praises of Prince Rama, she looks forward to meet him and become the voice of the forest dwellers.

The novel is written by Volga and translated by Purnima Tammireddy, and both have done an excellent job. The book has marvelously portrayed the essence of life during that time, but it feels so relatable even to the modern world, where nature is being exploited in the name of development. Although it is the third and final book in Volga’s powerful feminist retellings, I read this one as a stand-alone. I'm definitely looking forward to read more books by the author.

[Dipankar Bhadra · Rating 4 out of 5]

On the Banks of the Pampa is a story about an old woman named Sabari who lives in the forest by a river. She meets a prince named Rama and shares her life story with him. Through her tales, we learn about her past, her love for nature, and her wish to meet Rama before she dies. The book also introduces a mysterious man named Kabanda who finds shelter in the forest.

The story touches on important topics like fairness, civilization, and the impact humans have on nature. Sabari's deep connection to the environment and her respect for the Earth are highlighted in the book. The descriptions of the beautiful forest by the river add to the story's charm.

Overall, On the Banks of the Pampa is a short and powerful tale that teaches us to value nature and treat each other with kindness. It is an engaging read that leaves us thinking about the important lessons Sabari's story has to offer.

[Shweta · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first page itself hooked me, the description of Sun and the forest was very mesmerising.

I never had any such feeling of anger towards civilisation and cities but the event that occurred for their development, the slavery in a brain numbing camp, using untouchability to discard a whole community enraged me through and through.

Stories of Matang Muni and Sabari opened a different perspective and happy to learn that

At times the translation failed to evoke any emotion and i don’t know about the original text but i feel there might be something lost in between, the words just didn’t hit and felt more of a fillers than something decided

But regardless happy to have learned this story and to get to know Sabari.

[Parvathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A retelling of the Sabari story from the Ramayana. Valmiki had just four stanzas in his epic about Sabari, but Volga turns it into a slim novella about the relationship between humans and nature, about the power of the state and who it benefits, about the spread of Arya dharma across the South. The messages are powerful but they are told gently, and the last dialogue between Rama and Sabari is especially lovely.

Volga's retellings always come with an angle of dissent. They make you look at our stories differently, with a contemporary viewpoint. And they make you think.

This is not my favourite Volga, it is a bit too simplistic for my liking. But it definitely is worth a read. Recommend.

[Karthika · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a book! Concise, simple yet so thought provoking. Taking a part of mythology and bringing in her ideology as a totally different thought process or flaw in understanding of the main character commendable.

The question that lingers in my mind at the end of this book is, "What is civilization? Does it have an saturation limit at some point? And all these at what cost?" If the answer is to live a comfortable life, without dying from diseases and growing with technology, dont people exist even today who die due to illnesses and have no access to technology due to poverty or other reason?.

A wonderful book to re-read all over again

[Nandini Pradeep J · Rating 4 out of 5]

I must say that I am a tad bit biased to the writer. That being said, I felt that the text sounded pedantic at times. I wonder if it's because of the translation? The poetry is lost in places. But the general premises of the retelling makes it a compelling read. That's precisely what prompted me to pick up the text. Characters such as Sabari and Sulabha (Mahabharata) are interesting, important aspects of these texts and we do not talk about them enough. I wish the retelling did more with it, but I appreciate the attempt nevertheless.

[Kiran Reddy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I am not sure what this book is supposed to be! For whom!

It's a soft fiction around mythological figures. If young adults would like it? Not sure. Would it add any perspective to the well read? No!

I am truly at a loss to miss the good words that Ms. Arshiya Sattar and Ms. Namita Gokhale have for this writing!

[Aki · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've read the Telugu version of the book and oh. my. god. what beautiful writing! the character building, the setting of the scenes, the description of nature, too good! easily one of the best reads this year!

[Aruna Kumar Gadepalli · Rating 4 out of 5]

A wonderful story about Sabari and Matanga muni with nature and Pampa river description.

[Sneha Pathak (reader_girl_reader) · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

[Smitha Murthy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had loved The Liberation of Sita but this was a bit flat compared to that. Bear in mind that I approached this with no idea of Shabari. Somehow, the story didn't pick up for me.