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Interview with ‘Heart Lamp’ author Banu Mushtaq author and translator

‘Heart Lamp’, a collection of short stories by Banu Mushtaq, translated by Deepa Bhasthi, has won the International Booker Prize 2025

Updated - May 21, 2025 10:02 pm IST

Banu Mushtaq

Banu Mushtaq | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

This article was originally published on April 30, 2025 when ‘‘Heart Lamp’ was shortlisted for International Booker Prize 2025. The book won the coveted literature prize on May 21, 2025.

In a landmark moment for Kannada literature, Heart Lamp, a collection of short stories by Banu Mushtaq translated by Deepa Bhasthi, has been shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2025 — the first Kannada book ever to do so. Rooted in the textured lives of Muslim women and written over five decades, the stories are remarkable for their lyrical resistance, linguistic play, and quiet political charge. As the author and translator reflect on their collaboration, the journey to global recognition has become a powerful statement; not just of literary merit, but of language, identity, and survival.

For Banu, who began writing in the 1980s, the recognition has come with a mix of pride and pressure. “I am elated,” she says, “But also overwhelmed by the sudden attention. It’s been hard to celebrate fully.” Still, she acknowledges the significance of the moment — not only as a personal milestone, but as a breakthrough for Kannada literature. “This has made history,” she says. “While Kannada has always had immense literary value, it has lacked exposure. This opportunity opens many doors.”

Banu’s stories are deeply embedded in the everyday lives of Muslim women, often navigating themes of faith, gender, and resistance. Her storytelling is colloquial and candid, using a multilingual register that shifts between Kannada, Urdu, Arabic, and Dakhni — a challenge Deepa was aware of when undertaking the translation.

Translation philosophy

“My translation practice is instinctive rather than theoretical,” says Deepa, who read over 50 of Banu’s stories before selecting the final 12. “I looked for stories that covered a range of subjects — those with humour, subtlety, or universality — and avoided ones too reliant on specific cultural knowledge that might require heavy footnoting.”

This avoidance of footnotes was not accidental. Deepa is a critic of “exoticising” regional literature for Western readers. “Writers from the global south have made it too easy italicising terms like rotti or dosè (in Kannada we don’t pronounce it as roti) as if they’re foreign. But these are everyday words. If a reader doesn’t know what rotti is, they can look it up or learn it through context. That’s how language evolves.”

Banu’s embrace of colloquial storytelling similarly hinges on linguistic authenticity. “Being multilingual, I naturally use various languages in my stories. In our daily lives, these languages blend together, and I bring that same sensibility to my writing. It enhances relatability.”

Deepa Bhasthi

Deepa Bhasthi | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Faith, feminism, and fiction

This unfiltered style also amplifies the political charge of her stories, particularly those examining the intersection of religion and women’s lives. “Faith can be a source of comfort,” Banu explains, “But when weaponised, it becomes oppressive. My stories attempt to capture that duality.”

Deepa was drawn to this subtle complexity. “What I love about Banu’s writing is that it shows rather than tells. The humour is dry, cheeky, clever and easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. That kind of subtlety is rare and refreshing.”

The process of translation was also marked by trust and collaboration. Banu gave Deepa complete freedom in curating and translating the stories. “She would note down her questions, and we met a few times to discuss context and meaning,” says Banu. “But I never interfered with her choices.”

This was important to Deepa, especially as someone outside the cultural community Banu writes about. “Linguistically, southern India is already multilingual, so the real challenge was understanding the cultural nuances of Islamic life. I had to be especially careful and responsible.”

Heart Lamp cover

Heart Lamp cover | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

On the world stage

As the first Indian translator to be shortlisted the International Booker Prize, Deepa views the recognition as a much-needed spotlight on Kannada literature. “People are now learning how to pronounce ‘Kannada’. That’s a start,” she laughs. “We have a 1,500-year-old literary tradition, but we haven’t seen the same attention as Malayalam or Bengali. I hope this moment leads to more Kannada books being translated, and more people choosing to become translators.”

For Banu, this broader visibility arrives after decades of quietly challenging both literary and social norms. A Muslim woman writing about women’s lives from within the community, she has faced her share of resistance — both external and internal. “My identity makes me answerable for every word I use,” she says. “I often have to censor myself. There’s always the fear that a story might be misinterpreted or spark controversy even when it’s just about women’s experiences.”

She notes that the tone of her writing shifted after the Babri Masjid demolition in 1992. “I realised that it wasn’t enough to question just the internal hierarchy of the Muslim community. I had to address state oppression too. Ultimately, it is always women who suffer under these broader structures.”

Despite these challenges, Banu has remained prolific. With over 60 stories published across six collections — and a seventh on the way — she has established herself as a vital chronicler of Muslim womanhood in India. Her story Black Cobra, included in Heart Lamp, was adapted into the award-winning film Hasina by Girish Kasaravalli.

While the Booker nod has thrust her work onto a global stage, Banu remains grounded in her commitment to Kannada literature and community storytelling. “There’s a tradition here that began with the Bandaya movement in the 1980s — a tradition of protest and marginalised voices including Muslims and Dalits finding space. That tradition continues.”

Her advice to young writers, especially women from marginalised communities, is simple: “Just write. Don’t wait for perfection. Observe your surroundings and speak from the heart. Your stories matter.”

Banu Mushtaq and Deepa Bhasthi were were in Bangalore International Centre, Domlur, for a conversation about their book.

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