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Walking Towards Ourselves: Indian Women Tell Their Stories
Walking Towards Ourselves is an anthology of autobiographical narratives based on the real, lived experiences of Indian women writers. The pieces explore what it means to be an Indian woman. Contributors write on issues such as love, sexuality, taboos, marriage, motherhood, literacy, career choices, dating and definitions of success for women. Walking Towards Ourselves represents multiple perspectives and a range of voices, giving readers insight into the richness and complexities of contemporary Indian women's lives.
Contributors include Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni , Deepti Kapoor, Ira Trivedi, Leila Seth, Sharanya Manivannan, Tishani Doshi, Annie Zaidi, Anjum Hasan, Margaret Mascarenhas, Tisca Chopra, Salma, Anita Agnihotri, Ambai, Pallavi Sharda, Mitali Saran, Urvashi Butalia, Rosalyn D'Mello and Nirupama Dutt.
Contributors include Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni , Deepti Kapoor, Ira Trivedi, Leila Seth, Sharanya Manivannan, Tishani Doshi, Annie Zaidi, Anjum Hasan, Margaret Mascarenhas, Tisca Chopra, Salma, Anita Agnihotri, Ambai, Pallavi Sharda, Mitali Saran, Urvashi Butalia, Rosalyn D'Mello and Nirupama Dutt.
288 pages, Paperback
Published January 26, 2016
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October 31, 2022That it took Catriona Mitchell, born in Switzerland, and raised in UK and Australia, to edit and publish this anthology - about and by Indian women - is perhaps a statement in itself. In any case, I am glad she did. The flap describes it as a kaleidoscope of distinct and varied real-life stories, and I think that is just about accurate. Just about because I don't know if it sufficiently captures the distinctness and the variety.
It covers just about every cross section that you can think of - language, age, geography, class, caste, skin colour, sexuality, and yes, circumstances and perspectives. The title is courtesy a renowned artist, feminist and environmentalist (and the niece of Sardar Vallabhai Patel) Chandralekha - a phrased she used to describe the connection between art and life. In the context of this book, I also see it as the journeys of the women who have been featured in it, and how they are all somehow connected in the struggle of just being a woman, and finding their own free expression of it.
I think it would be unfair to call them just stories - these are lives, some relatively privileged, some fighting for survival. Anita Agnihotri's protagonist Taramoni struggles for basic sustenance amidst the vagaries of nature. Nirupama Dutt's Devi becomes a victim of bad decisions (some by her, some by others) and regrets that she didn't have a life like her sister's. Salma just about manages to publish her writing while living with a husband who tries every trick in the book to get her to stop reading, let alone writing. An anonymous (and well-read) author has to deal with a physically abusive husband. Anjum Hasan's Manjula fights with pragmatism and tenacity, willing herself to rise above her circumstances, and help others while at it.
Urvashi Butalia continues the fight in the second generation. Annie Zaidi wonders when she can stop looking over her shoulder even in a relatively safe place such as Mumbai. Tisca Chopra does a BTS of old-school, patriarchal Bollywood. Deepti Kapoor's Mataji is a fascinating 'Iron Lady' who would brook no argument against her decisions, but shockingly believes in the country's patriarchal social structures! Tishani Doshi dwells on the complexities of not choosing motherhood with some superb points of view. Sharanya Manivannan showcases her way with words while using her choices of wardrobe and adornments as a metaphor.
Some write about their own lives, some do it on behalf of mothers, grandmothers, sisters or just the sisterhood. But all of them use the scimitar of words (a phrase used by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni) to telling effect, and in most stories, the inner steel of women is evident. But I continue to wonder how one half of us could deprive the other of something they deserve. Practically every problem humanity faces is 'man'-made, and I believe that many of its solutions will come from the empathy and intelligence that I have seen the smarter half of the species can provide.
It covers just about every cross section that you can think of - language, age, geography, class, caste, skin colour, sexuality, and yes, circumstances and perspectives. The title is courtesy a renowned artist, feminist and environmentalist (and the niece of Sardar Vallabhai Patel) Chandralekha - a phrased she used to describe the connection between art and life. In the context of this book, I also see it as the journeys of the women who have been featured in it, and how they are all somehow connected in the struggle of just being a woman, and finding their own free expression of it.
I think it would be unfair to call them just stories - these are lives, some relatively privileged, some fighting for survival. Anita Agnihotri's protagonist Taramoni struggles for basic sustenance amidst the vagaries of nature. Nirupama Dutt's Devi becomes a victim of bad decisions (some by her, some by others) and regrets that she didn't have a life like her sister's. Salma just about manages to publish her writing while living with a husband who tries every trick in the book to get her to stop reading, let alone writing. An anonymous (and well-read) author has to deal with a physically abusive husband. Anjum Hasan's Manjula fights with pragmatism and tenacity, willing herself to rise above her circumstances, and help others while at it.
Urvashi Butalia continues the fight in the second generation. Annie Zaidi wonders when she can stop looking over her shoulder even in a relatively safe place such as Mumbai. Tisca Chopra does a BTS of old-school, patriarchal Bollywood. Deepti Kapoor's Mataji is a fascinating 'Iron Lady' who would brook no argument against her decisions, but shockingly believes in the country's patriarchal social structures! Tishani Doshi dwells on the complexities of not choosing motherhood with some superb points of view. Sharanya Manivannan showcases her way with words while using her choices of wardrobe and adornments as a metaphor.
Some write about their own lives, some do it on behalf of mothers, grandmothers, sisters or just the sisterhood. But all of them use the scimitar of words (a phrase used by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni) to telling effect, and in most stories, the inner steel of women is evident. But I continue to wonder how one half of us could deprive the other of something they deserve. Practically every problem humanity faces is 'man'-made, and I believe that many of its solutions will come from the empathy and intelligence that I have seen the smarter half of the species can provide.
August 30, 2020
There were some very powerful stories in this collection and it is well worth the read. One star demotion for regressive language (cis and cisgendered) in certain stories, and the time taken away from telling women's stories to discuss trans-identified males. That was very disappointing to see.
January 31, 2018
A tremendous book with great writing and diversity. I absolutely loved some of the chapters- they are going to stick with me forever.
I'd have just liked an addition of a perspective of an incredibly privileged (materially) woman but who doesn't necessarily have economic or true social independence. It would've been great to read that sort of an account, even anonymously written. It would've made the book come a full circle.
oH AND I'd also have likedone sportsperson writing in there to explain the myriad and unique challenges that Indian women face- maybe a Mary Kom or a Deepa or even a Mitali Raj!
I'd have just liked an addition of a perspective of an incredibly privileged (materially) woman but who doesn't necessarily have economic or true social independence. It would've been great to read that sort of an account, even anonymously written. It would've made the book come a full circle.
oH AND I'd also have likedone sportsperson writing in there to explain the myriad and unique challenges that Indian women face- maybe a Mary Kom or a Deepa or even a Mitali Raj!
January 5, 2017
"We are each other's stories."
This anthology of 20 real-life narratives by a range of Indian female authors gives entry into the minds, skins and situations of women as they 'find themselves'. As these women navigate through life, one glimpses vividly-hued and tangled strands of narrative, weaving a tapestry of shared vulnerabilities and common strengths. This collection held some familiar names for me and added to the list of Indian female authors on my to-read!
This anthology of 20 real-life narratives by a range of Indian female authors gives entry into the minds, skins and situations of women as they 'find themselves'. As these women navigate through life, one glimpses vividly-hued and tangled strands of narrative, weaving a tapestry of shared vulnerabilities and common strengths. This collection held some familiar names for me and added to the list of Indian female authors on my to-read!
January 22, 2017
An excellent collection of stories of women written by women. I had to pause, catch my breath, think over and over again, get out of the situations described in the book and try to come back to living my own life. They suck you in right from the beginning. These are our own stories intersecting with the writers in some place, at some point in time.
#popsugarreadingchallenge2017 #bookbymultipleauthors
#popsugarreadingchallenge2017 #bookbymultipleauthors
January 11, 2026
Excellent collection of stories, featuring Indian women in circumstances as varied and distinct as the cultures that span the nation. All stories here have a new perspective to add, making this an insightful read overall.
The story that really hit home for me personally was "Over My Shoulder" by Annie Zaidi. She makes a subtle yet important point - that having more women employed across all walks of life make our public spaces feel safer for all women.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'd be a better writer if I ran into more female professionals. Would it make me bolder? Would I have deeper, more spontaneous conversations with strangers? Would I give out my phone number more easily? What stories would I tell if the auto-rickshaw driver, bus driver, mechanic, cobbler, plumber, packer and mover, deliverer of newspapers, fixer of gadgets, mason, gardener, carpenter and house painter were women? Would there be stories of pretend-talking on a mobile phone and pepper spray? And would I finally stop looking over my shoulder?"
Zaidi puts it eloquently well, about how our public spaces feel to a lot of women:
"I was off on a train or bus, meeting new people who were - men as well as women - patient, generous and respectful for the most part.
However, I did look over my shoulder when I was out after sunset. I did cross the street to avoid a parked car with more than two men sitting inside it. I learned to gauge the safety quotient of a bar, restaurant, movie theatre, based on how many women were visible. Zero was not good. One was better than zero, but it still meant being in a state of high alert. Two was a relief. It meant I could stop exchanging nervous smiles with the only other woman present. Five was almost normal."
This is a great collection of stories, would recommend to all.
The story that really hit home for me personally was "Over My Shoulder" by Annie Zaidi. She makes a subtle yet important point - that having more women employed across all walks of life make our public spaces feel safer for all women.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'd be a better writer if I ran into more female professionals. Would it make me bolder? Would I have deeper, more spontaneous conversations with strangers? Would I give out my phone number more easily? What stories would I tell if the auto-rickshaw driver, bus driver, mechanic, cobbler, plumber, packer and mover, deliverer of newspapers, fixer of gadgets, mason, gardener, carpenter and house painter were women? Would there be stories of pretend-talking on a mobile phone and pepper spray? And would I finally stop looking over my shoulder?"
Zaidi puts it eloquently well, about how our public spaces feel to a lot of women:
"I was off on a train or bus, meeting new people who were - men as well as women - patient, generous and respectful for the most part.
However, I did look over my shoulder when I was out after sunset. I did cross the street to avoid a parked car with more than two men sitting inside it. I learned to gauge the safety quotient of a bar, restaurant, movie theatre, based on how many women were visible. Zero was not good. One was better than zero, but it still meant being in a state of high alert. Two was a relief. It meant I could stop exchanging nervous smiles with the only other woman present. Five was almost normal."
This is a great collection of stories, would recommend to all.
December 23, 2016
There but for the grace...(etc)
This is an important and well-written anthology of personal stories from a broad selection of Indian women writers and feminists. Each of the essays is memorable in its own way, but as a collection I don't feel that it had quite the impact that I was expecting.
The most haunting tale was that of Anonymous, who describes the relentless terror of rape within marriage.
The man who rapes me is not a stranger who runs away. He is not the silhouette in the car park, he is not the masked assaulter, he is not my acquaintance who has spiked my drink. He is someone who wakes up next to me. He is the husband for whom I have to make the morning coffee.
The funniest was that of Tisca Chopra who describes her rise in the Indian TV and film industries and her near-miss casting couch experiences.
But for me the most touching was Nirupama Dutt's story about her sister, 28 years her senior, and the vastly different lives they have led as their country hurtles towards a higher level of development.
This is an important and well-written anthology of personal stories from a broad selection of Indian women writers and feminists. Each of the essays is memorable in its own way, but as a collection I don't feel that it had quite the impact that I was expecting.
The most haunting tale was that of Anonymous, who describes the relentless terror of rape within marriage.
The man who rapes me is not a stranger who runs away. He is not the silhouette in the car park, he is not the masked assaulter, he is not my acquaintance who has spiked my drink. He is someone who wakes up next to me. He is the husband for whom I have to make the morning coffee.
The funniest was that of Tisca Chopra who describes her rise in the Indian TV and film industries and her near-miss casting couch experiences.
But for me the most touching was Nirupama Dutt's story about her sister, 28 years her senior, and the vastly different lives they have led as their country hurtles towards a higher level of development.
March 5, 2016
Most feminist writing (like any -ist writing, from buddh- to chem-) is a thicket of shared cliches, obscuring the content for the non-initiated, even if that content is good, and necessary to know.
These very varied stories are all fresh, vivid, memorable, accessible to a non-Indian non-woman like me, and as close to truth as written words can come. I am richer for having read it.
These very varied stories are all fresh, vivid, memorable, accessible to a non-Indian non-woman like me, and as close to truth as written words can come. I am richer for having read it.
May 3, 2024
Really good collection of stories. Made me realise the situation for women in India is simultaneously much more optimistic and much worse than I had been taught in school. And most importantly, much more complex and diverse - like India itself.
October 23, 2016
It felt as if every story included in this deeply cherished and magnificent anthology with enormous care was chosen for you.
Every personal account, narrative, theme explored and translated resonates. Not with a meek bellow but like a loud, unyielding YAWP. Never imagined that I would regard this compendium or any for that matter with such respect, affection; recommending it to each and every being I bump into.
'The history of women is left to us in folklore and tradition, in faintly remembered lullabies and the half-forgotten touch of a grandmother 's hand..' (& this brillant collection of stories)
Every personal account, narrative, theme explored and translated resonates. Not with a meek bellow but like a loud, unyielding YAWP. Never imagined that I would regard this compendium or any for that matter with such respect, affection; recommending it to each and every being I bump into.
'The history of women is left to us in folklore and tradition, in faintly remembered lullabies and the half-forgotten touch of a grandmother 's hand..' (& this brillant collection of stories)
February 28, 2017
A wonderful anthology of essays that answers the question of what it means to be an Indian woman through a plethora of perspectives befitting the vastness of the very experiences they describe. A personal favourite was Tishani Doshi's stunning essay 'Tick Tock', which tackles a generation's growing ambivalence towards motherhood with disarming honesty and refreshing candour. Can't wait to devour the other works by the women featured in this collection.
April 11, 2018
Doing justice to this collection feels just as hard as capturing all the intensity and richness of India itself through one tourist jaunt. The writing is very good, the content absorbing.
Namita Gokhale writes in her Foreward that India is a land where “gods and goddesses are alive… and we encounter them at every stage and step of daily life.” But the epic Mahabarata was forbidden to her as a child, lest the “self-willed strength” of its goddesses set a bad example.
The oppression of Indian women remains horrendous. Female infanticide. Child brides. Women imprisoned in their homes. Defiant women having acid thrown on their faces. Widows who burn on their dead husband’s funeral pyres. All these grim facts are described, but the book is leavened by vivid settings and well-drawn lively characters. The collection describes huge contradictions, tumult, and uneven but inspiring progress as the developing economy opens new vistas. Politically there are women pushing forward and men supporting them.
Ira Trivedi discusses the brutalities of the bridal market. As traditional lines of caste and class blur, whiteness has become almost an obsession, fed by the mass media. Trivedi says that almost two thirds of Indian women use “fairness creams”. Better to give your daughter to a paler-skinned wife-beating drunk than to a wealthy dark southerner.
Urvashi Butalia survives as a reporter within a stifling culture where women are almost excluded from public life. “None of the budget hotels in small towns had a woman at the front desk…. there weren’t even any female cooks at highway eateries. Certainly no waitresses.” Even women’s underwear is sold by men. The few women evident in the street melt away by nightfall. Women face attack from drivers, security guards, delivery men. Public toilets for women are almost non-existent. Only in the last 15 years is this beginning to change in the cities, as a new work culture expands, thanks partly to work outsourced from foreign companies.
Mitali Saran describes how women are using these new conditions to push back – reporting attacks more often, “calling out workplace sexism, wearing what they want to wear, marrying the people they want to marry or not marrying at all… not just refusing to cede space but actively expanding it”.
These are just three of many contributors. The book includes brief bios of the contributors and the editor at the end. For me the collection will be a launching place into contemporary Indian writing.
Namita Gokhale writes in her Foreward that India is a land where “gods and goddesses are alive… and we encounter them at every stage and step of daily life.” But the epic Mahabarata was forbidden to her as a child, lest the “self-willed strength” of its goddesses set a bad example.
The oppression of Indian women remains horrendous. Female infanticide. Child brides. Women imprisoned in their homes. Defiant women having acid thrown on their faces. Widows who burn on their dead husband’s funeral pyres. All these grim facts are described, but the book is leavened by vivid settings and well-drawn lively characters. The collection describes huge contradictions, tumult, and uneven but inspiring progress as the developing economy opens new vistas. Politically there are women pushing forward and men supporting them.
Ira Trivedi discusses the brutalities of the bridal market. As traditional lines of caste and class blur, whiteness has become almost an obsession, fed by the mass media. Trivedi says that almost two thirds of Indian women use “fairness creams”. Better to give your daughter to a paler-skinned wife-beating drunk than to a wealthy dark southerner.
Urvashi Butalia survives as a reporter within a stifling culture where women are almost excluded from public life. “None of the budget hotels in small towns had a woman at the front desk…. there weren’t even any female cooks at highway eateries. Certainly no waitresses.” Even women’s underwear is sold by men. The few women evident in the street melt away by nightfall. Women face attack from drivers, security guards, delivery men. Public toilets for women are almost non-existent. Only in the last 15 years is this beginning to change in the cities, as a new work culture expands, thanks partly to work outsourced from foreign companies.
Mitali Saran describes how women are using these new conditions to push back – reporting attacks more often, “calling out workplace sexism, wearing what they want to wear, marrying the people they want to marry or not marrying at all… not just refusing to cede space but actively expanding it”.
These are just three of many contributors. The book includes brief bios of the contributors and the editor at the end. For me the collection will be a launching place into contemporary Indian writing.
July 1, 2021
Mitchell has made a praiseworthy effort of collecting 18 mini memoirs of unrelated but distinct women. The collection is an apt representation of women across geographical, class and educational boundaries. As Namita Gokhale puts it 'They bring alive a revelatory panorama of struggle and survival, sorority and resistance, and remind us that we are each other's stories'.
Two stories stood out for me. One by an anonymous writer who reveals her harrowing tale of sexual abuse by her husband, who she not only had to live with but also tend to. The beast resolved to leave his wife so tattered, loose and unusable that she could never offer herself to any man. What level of whimsical insecurity gives a man a right to exploit his wife and leave her wholly devastated, body and soul?
Another narrative by Anita Agnihotri is set in the fragile ecosystem of the Sunderbans. Waves have uprooted homes, destroyed crops and killed any prospect of employment. Even after a year of the havoc, there is not enough aid to restore some semblance of normal life. Men have left the area in search of work, often being employed as cheap labourers in far off areas. Sometimes news and money come from them, sometimes it doesn't. No one knows when they will return and sometimes no one knows where they have been taken to. The women languish and wait and hope. Cannot they be compared to the half widows of Kashmir?
The book stands out in the range of stories it covers. It takes you on a journey of struggle, resistance, horror, hope, assertions as well as depression. One take away that I gathered - it is only you who can resolve and hustle to make a mark for yourself.
Recommended if you are passionate about women plight in India.
Two stories stood out for me. One by an anonymous writer who reveals her harrowing tale of sexual abuse by her husband, who she not only had to live with but also tend to. The beast resolved to leave his wife so tattered, loose and unusable that she could never offer herself to any man. What level of whimsical insecurity gives a man a right to exploit his wife and leave her wholly devastated, body and soul?
Another narrative by Anita Agnihotri is set in the fragile ecosystem of the Sunderbans. Waves have uprooted homes, destroyed crops and killed any prospect of employment. Even after a year of the havoc, there is not enough aid to restore some semblance of normal life. Men have left the area in search of work, often being employed as cheap labourers in far off areas. Sometimes news and money come from them, sometimes it doesn't. No one knows when they will return and sometimes no one knows where they have been taken to. The women languish and wait and hope. Cannot they be compared to the half widows of Kashmir?
The book stands out in the range of stories it covers. It takes you on a journey of struggle, resistance, horror, hope, assertions as well as depression. One take away that I gathered - it is only you who can resolve and hustle to make a mark for yourself.
Recommended if you are passionate about women plight in India.
December 31, 2018
A fantastic read. Each story has its own distinguished appeal. An appeal that sometimes breaks your heart. The stories on skin colour and what women face from childhood is still prevalent in India. I should say its only prevalent in India. Its sad how much the comments faced by young girls on their skin colour can rip them off their confidence amd securtiy. Stories of people who work towards the society to eliminate child marriages are commendable. For them its their whole life. This book is no fiction but the true facts of what Indian women face daily in their life. No matter what caste colour or creed you are in India. Somewhere a woman is being abused or taken advantahe of. A must read.
October 13, 2016
The story of India's #Braveheart appears across many stories in this book~ I know that gruesome event has wrung many hearts across the globe. I read each story in this compilation with delicate care but with a ferocious empathy for all the women who poured out the tales from their heart.
May 15, 2017
In one of the world’s most patriarchal societies, Indian women break their silence by sharing their most intimate stories. This powerful collection features diverse experiences of womanhood and motherhood in India, to educate and empower with raw honesty. Walking Towards Ourselves is the most moving and enriching book I’ve had the privilege to read this year.
Although these 18 memoirs can’t represent every woman in India, they unite to form a rich narrative that shows many shades of the female experience, from the inner workings of marriage bureaus and dating sites, to the normalised abuse and oppression in many marital homes. The overarching message about individualism and empowerment is loud and clear.
Walking Towards Ourselves highlights self-love narratives in which women come to terms with their appearance and their sensuality. When discrimination against dark skin destroys many young people’s marriage prospects, these writers reclaim their bodies. For some, the decision to stay single or childless is to accept a life of judgment, harassment, or familial ostracism. To these women, being seen as an individual with a valid voice is more important than cultural acceptance.
Possibly my greatest praise for Walking Towards Ourselves is its clarity and flow. Each story is told in the simplest words possible, allowing the emotion of each woman’s experience to speak through empathetic connection. The flow from story to story is natural and compelling, building to what I felt was its emotional peak with Scenes From a Marriage by Anonymous, a story of marital rape that endangers its author in the telling. This collection has an overall unity that makes each story fit into one beautiful whole.
However, what I believe makes this book most powerful and unique is its positivity. At no point is it hateful or aggressive. It doesn’t put others down in the process of raising its voice. It bears its own “lightness”.
I strongly recommend Walking Towards Ourselves to men and women, young and old. Open yourself to this offering of wisdom, pain, beauty, and hope. As a woman, this book makes me feel connected and no longer alone.
This review can also be found on my blog Paige's Pages.
India is a land where women are worshipped as goddesses … But the real strength of Indian women, those unsung heroines who hold up more than half the sky, comes from the disadvantaged, the indigent and marginalised, the often-silenced majority who till the soil, graze their cattle, work in menial domestic jobs, and look after and sustain their immediate and extended families – Foreword by Namita Gokhale page 4
Although these 18 memoirs can’t represent every woman in India, they unite to form a rich narrative that shows many shades of the female experience, from the inner workings of marriage bureaus and dating sites, to the normalised abuse and oppression in many marital homes. The overarching message about individualism and empowerment is loud and clear.
In a world full of women who lacked a place in society but were unaware of this deprivation, no one was ready to accept me as a woman who was aware of her existence as a distinct individual – Beyond Memories by Salma page 125
Walking Towards Ourselves highlights self-love narratives in which women come to terms with their appearance and their sensuality. When discrimination against dark skin destroys many young people’s marriage prospects, these writers reclaim their bodies. For some, the decision to stay single or childless is to accept a life of judgment, harassment, or familial ostracism. To these women, being seen as an individual with a valid voice is more important than cultural acceptance.
My body will continue to be my instrument, my blackness my deliverance, my skin my muse – Black by Rosalyn D’Mello page 67
Possibly my greatest praise for Walking Towards Ourselves is its clarity and flow. Each story is told in the simplest words possible, allowing the emotion of each woman’s experience to speak through empathetic connection. The flow from story to story is natural and compelling, building to what I felt was its emotional peak with Scenes From a Marriage by Anonymous, a story of marital rape that endangers its author in the telling. This collection has an overall unity that makes each story fit into one beautiful whole.
However, what I believe makes this book most powerful and unique is its positivity. At no point is it hateful or aggressive. It doesn’t put others down in the process of raising its voice. It bears its own “lightness”.
I strongly recommend Walking Towards Ourselves to men and women, young and old. Open yourself to this offering of wisdom, pain, beauty, and hope. As a woman, this book makes me feel connected and no longer alone.
This review can also be found on my blog Paige's Pages.
April 11, 2018
Doing justice to this collection feels just as hard as capturing all the intensity, richness and diversity of India itself through one tourist jaunt. The writing is very good, the content absorbing.
Namita Gokhale writes in her Foreward that India is a land where “gods and goddesses are alive… and we encounter them at every stage and step of daily life.” But the epic Mahabarata was forbidden to her as a child, lest the “self-willed strength” of its goddesses set a bad example. The oppression of Indian women remains horrendous. Female infanticide. Child brides. Women imprisoned in their homes. Defiant women having acid thrown on their faces. Widows who burn on their dead husband’s funeral pyres. All these grim facts are described, but the book is leavened by vivid settings and well-drawn lively characters. The collection describes huge contradictions, tumult, and uneven but inspiring progress as the developing economy opens new vistas. Politically there are women pushing forward and men supporting them.
Ira Trivedi discusses the brutalities of the bridal market. As traditional lines of caste and class blur, whiteness has become almost an obsession, fed by the mass media. Trivedi says that almost two thirds of Indian women use “fairness creams”. Better to give your daughter to a paler-skinned wife-beating drunk than to a wealthy dark southerner.
Urvashi Butalia survives as a reporter within a stifling culture where women are almost excluded from public life. “None of the budget hotels in small towns had a woman at the front desk…. there weren’t even any female cooks at highway eateries. Certainly no waitresses.” Even women’s underwear is sold by men. The few women evident in the street melt away by nightfall. Women face attack from drivers, security guards, delivery men. Public toilets for women are almost non-existent. Only in the last 15 years is this beginning to change in the cities, as a new work culture expands, thanks partly to work outsourced from foreign companies. Mitali Saran says that women are using these new conditions to push back – reporting attacks more often, “calling out workplace sexism, wearing what they want to wear, marrying the people they want to marry or not marrying at all… not just refusing to cede space but actively expanding it”.
These are just three of many contributors. The book includes brief bios of the contributors and the editor at the end. For me the collection will be a launching place into contemporary Indian writing.
Namita Gokhale writes in her Foreward that India is a land where “gods and goddesses are alive… and we encounter them at every stage and step of daily life.” But the epic Mahabarata was forbidden to her as a child, lest the “self-willed strength” of its goddesses set a bad example. The oppression of Indian women remains horrendous. Female infanticide. Child brides. Women imprisoned in their homes. Defiant women having acid thrown on their faces. Widows who burn on their dead husband’s funeral pyres. All these grim facts are described, but the book is leavened by vivid settings and well-drawn lively characters. The collection describes huge contradictions, tumult, and uneven but inspiring progress as the developing economy opens new vistas. Politically there are women pushing forward and men supporting them.
Ira Trivedi discusses the brutalities of the bridal market. As traditional lines of caste and class blur, whiteness has become almost an obsession, fed by the mass media. Trivedi says that almost two thirds of Indian women use “fairness creams”. Better to give your daughter to a paler-skinned wife-beating drunk than to a wealthy dark southerner.
Urvashi Butalia survives as a reporter within a stifling culture where women are almost excluded from public life. “None of the budget hotels in small towns had a woman at the front desk…. there weren’t even any female cooks at highway eateries. Certainly no waitresses.” Even women’s underwear is sold by men. The few women evident in the street melt away by nightfall. Women face attack from drivers, security guards, delivery men. Public toilets for women are almost non-existent. Only in the last 15 years is this beginning to change in the cities, as a new work culture expands, thanks partly to work outsourced from foreign companies. Mitali Saran says that women are using these new conditions to push back – reporting attacks more often, “calling out workplace sexism, wearing what they want to wear, marrying the people they want to marry or not marrying at all… not just refusing to cede space but actively expanding it”.
These are just three of many contributors. The book includes brief bios of the contributors and the editor at the end. For me the collection will be a launching place into contemporary Indian writing.
October 19, 2018
A highly underrated book in my opinion! This book contains excerpts from books of 20 different women writers. All these stories broaden our perspective and gives a new look at life. At least one story will definitely trigger some memories from the past. I would categorize this book among those you miss out a lot in life if you haven’t read it.
My personal favorite is ‘Beyond Memories’ by Salma, a Tamil poet and writer. She starts with a touching poetry (translated to English by Kalyan Raman)
“The monkey, sitting placidly on the tiled overhang with her sagging, distended belly and scratching her head, isn’t at all nervous about having to to find her own food, about the safety of the burden in her womb, or even about whose child it might be.”
Salma writes about different stages of her life, under the subheadings: My father, Preparing for marriage, The library and the cinema, A poet is born, Betrothal, Writing in secret, Betrayal and then, Freedom.
Have women really attained freedom to make their own choices? If yes, are they making the right choices? The authors give you some perspective.
This book is a kaleidoscope of reflections of those in Bollywood to marital homes to survivors of cyclone in the Sunderbans. What is it like to walk in their shoes? What is it like to be a woman in India? The book tells you this and more.
My personal favorite is ‘Beyond Memories’ by Salma, a Tamil poet and writer. She starts with a touching poetry (translated to English by Kalyan Raman)
“The monkey, sitting placidly on the tiled overhang with her sagging, distended belly and scratching her head, isn’t at all nervous about having to to find her own food, about the safety of the burden in her womb, or even about whose child it might be.”
Salma writes about different stages of her life, under the subheadings: My father, Preparing for marriage, The library and the cinema, A poet is born, Betrothal, Writing in secret, Betrayal and then, Freedom.
Have women really attained freedom to make their own choices? If yes, are they making the right choices? The authors give you some perspective.
This book is a kaleidoscope of reflections of those in Bollywood to marital homes to survivors of cyclone in the Sunderbans. What is it like to walk in their shoes? What is it like to be a woman in India? The book tells you this and more.
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March 12, 2016This is a fantastic anthology of personal narratives by contemporary Indian women, all accomplished writers. There’s Margaret Mascarenhas’ exploration of sexual identity in today’s India, a short personal piece on marital rape by Anonymous, Salma’s narration of her personal struggle against her husband and his family’s persecution of her ability to write poetry and Tishani Doshi’s experience of accepting childlessness in her life and integrating herself into a blended family. This book would make great textbook reading for any college institution teaching Feminist studies or even just in Literature classes exploring personal narratives of strong Indian women today. Gets my recommendation. It’s great for summer reading and a book to dip easily into and out of when you don’t have time to read a novel but are looking for short excerpts.
February 27, 2021
I read this over some time because, as with most stories about anyone who's not cisgender male, the stories of their lived experiences neither are nor should be quick and easy reads. To pick up this book each time, to start a new story, was difficult and only possible when I had the mental space to read about truths that I myself have had the privilege not to experience, for the most part.
This is a solid collection of important voices sharing their hardest challenges in an unforgiving world, in each of their own unique storytelling styles. Thoughtfully curated and edited.
This is a solid collection of important voices sharing their hardest challenges in an unforgiving world, in each of their own unique storytelling styles. Thoughtfully curated and edited.
July 13, 2023
READ THIS BOOK!!!!
A brilliant collection of short stories by women describing the misogyny that rears its ugly head throughout every layer of south Asian society. Armed with an incredible amount of candour and even more raw emotion, this book is absolutely unputdownable.
Particularly enjoyed the short stories by Salma and Sharanya Manivannan.
I love this book so much that I cannot wait to gift copies of it to all my favourite people!
A brilliant collection of short stories by women describing the misogyny that rears its ugly head throughout every layer of south Asian society. Armed with an incredible amount of candour and even more raw emotion, this book is absolutely unputdownable.
Particularly enjoyed the short stories by Salma and Sharanya Manivannan.
I love this book so much that I cannot wait to gift copies of it to all my favourite people!
October 29, 2016
Engrossing personal insights into the lives of Indian women, in a series of self contained chapters, in a collection edited by the woman who set up the Ubud literary festival. Reading a chapter a night and dreaming of travelling there.
April 23, 2024
The range of these essays have brought on a new understanding of my mum's way of thinking when she raised me (she grew up in India). I always thought it was backwards and sexist but it was the only way she knew how.
January 19, 2017
Read whilst travelling in India. The perfect companion.
March 24, 2017
Moving, engrossing, insightful.
September 19, 2016
A great introduction in nowadays India !
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 9, 2017
Insightful collection of real stories about Indian women, by Indian women that portray the positive and negative aspects of life for women in India. Their stories focus on sexuality, gender preferences, identity, poverty, education, motherhood and what it means to be a daughter or a sibling. The writing is superb. Highly recommend for this interested in contemporary accounts of women's lives in a country that is still governed by patriarchy.
April 15, 2017
A great collection with good representation of every shade of indian woman writer. It gave me great insight on various issues faced by Indian women. It also shows a slow but definite improvement happening in our society about the woman. Barring one or two pieces which I partially read , I read the whole book in a day.
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