Writing From Lived Reality: Voices, Visibility, and the Quiet Power of Literature
Writing From Lived Reality: Writing does not start on a blank page; it grows out of lived reality, memory, and emotional truth. This idea formed the emotional core of a powerful keynote delivered by Banu Mushtaq at the opening of the 19th edition of the Jaipur Literature Festival on January 15. Speaking to a diverse audience of readers, writers, and thinkers, she reflected on why she began writing in the first place and why certain lives, often ignored or erased, demanded to be seen through literature.
Her words resonated deeply because they were rooted not in theory, but in experience. For Mushtaq, writing has always been an act of refusal: a refusal to accept invisibility, silence, and inherited inequality as permanent truths.
Writing Shaped by Inequality and Silence
Mushtaq explained that her literary voice emerged from observing the world around her, particularly spaces shaped by social imbalance, violence, and muted suffering. Growing up and working within such environments influenced not only what she writes about, but how she writes. Her stories do not seek spectacle; instead, they quietly challenge structures of power by centering everyday lives that are often overlooked.
According to her, literature resists domination in subtle ways. Rather than confronting authority head-on, stories question, unsettle, and expose realities that official narratives prefer to ignore. This form of resistance may be quiet, but it is persistent and deeply transformative.
A Conversation Beyond Awards
In a conversation with journalist Moutushi Mukherjee, presented by The New Indian Express, Mushtaq spoke candidly about her journey after winning the International Booker Prize. The discussion moved beyond celebration and focused on what the recognition truly means for her work, her routine, and her future plans.
The award was given for Heartlamp, a collection of short stories originally written in Kannada and translated into English by Deepa Bhasthi. The book explores intimate human experiences shaped by gender, faith, and social hierarchy, making it both deeply local and universally relatable.
An Airport, Lost Luggage, and a Singular Hope
One of the most memorable moments from the discussion was an anecdote that followers of Mushtaq’s journey may already know. While traveling to London for the award ceremony, she lost her entire baggage during transit. Faced with what could have been a stressful situation, she shared the experience on social media.
The response, however, surprised her. Thousands of messages poured in, but not one focused on the lost belongings. Instead, the message was consistent and heartfelt: forget the luggage, just bring the Booker home. The story highlighted not only public affection for Mushtaq, but also how collective hope can outweigh material concerns.
The Cost of Recognition on Creative Time
Despite the honor and visibility that came with the prize, Mushtaq admitted that the year following the award has been creatively challenging. Constant travel, public engagements, and conversations have left little room for the solitude required for sustained writing. Airports, cars, and event halls have replaced the quiet spaces where stories usually take shape.
She shared that most of her recent writing has been limited to brief poems composed while waiting in airport lounges. Longer projects, including her autobiography, were started before the award and now remain unfinished. Completing the autobiography is her immediate priority, followed by her seventh Kannada short story collection and a second English-language collection, both of which are currently works in progress.
What the Win Means for Vernacular Writers
The conversation also addressed the broader impact of Heartlamp’s success on writers working in India’s regional languages. Mushtaq observed a noticeable shift in attitude, particularly among younger writers and their families. She remarked that there is a growing awareness that writing in vernacular languages is not a limitation, but a strength.
Interestingly, she noted that parents have begun to play an active role in encouraging literary careers. They now see writing as a meaningful and viable path, capable of reaching global audiences without abandoning linguistic and cultural roots.
Literature as a Living Force
Mushtaq’s reflections reinforced the idea that literature is not created in isolation. It is shaped by movement, interruption, recognition, and struggle. Awards may bring visibility, but the heart of writing remains grounded in lived truth and social responsibility.
Her journey stands as a reminder that stories written from the margins can travel far, challenge dominant narratives, and inspire future generations to speak in their own voices, in their own languages, without fear.