| Natasha Sharma interviewed by Amita Basu |
Natasha Sharma is a storyteller with a unique voice, weaving humour, social awareness, and insightful observations into her narratives. By day, she works in IT; by night, she crafts worlds of her own. Her words have found homes in publications like MoneyControl.com, YouthKiAwaz, and eShe. A passionate advocate for community, Natasha co-runs a book club, ‘BookItUp’, fostering a space for readers and writers to connect. Her short fiction has appeared in eight international anthologies, earning accolades, including a Certificate of Excellence from York University, for her poignant story ‘Wind Beneath Your Wings.’ Her latest work, ‘The White Noise Lullaby,’ won the prestigious Asian Prize for Short Story 2024.
With her debut historical novel, Beneath Divided Skies, Natasha delves into the personal, untold stories of women during Partition, shedding light on their courage amidst chaos. The novel’s selection for the MAMI Word-to-Screen Market ’24 underscores its potential to engage audiences globally.
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AB: Beneath Divided Skies highlights an aspect of the Partition of India missing from mainstream historical accounts: the violence faced by women on both sides of the border during that period. You depict unflinchingly some of the numerous murders, rapes, kidnappings, coerced marriages, and beatings women experienced. Muslim women were kidnapped and abused by Hindu men; Hindu women were kidnapped and abused by Muslim men. Amidst all this, the Rescue of Abandoned Women (RAW) group operates cross-border in Skies to rescue, relocate, and rehabilitate women.
Tell us about your connection to Partition. How did you arrive at this particular story?
NS: My mother’s and father’s sides of the family lived in Western Punjab – Peshawar and Mianwali, respectively. My maternal grandfather ran a successful business packaging tea leaves into packets. My paternal grandfather was a farmer, but mainly worked as a headmaster in Jind, Haryana in unpartitioned India. The Direct Action Day on 16th August 1946 spiralled out of control, and I think that is when the two families independently made plans to move out of the soon-to-be-simmering Punjab.
Both set of my parents and their families moved into India. Ma moved to Shivpuri, and it was a rescue camp for my father. But this happened much before the actual violence escalated into rioting and killing.
My maternal grandfather spoke about advertisements being placed in newspapers or pamphlets that were ‘looking for lost women’ and how India was trying to address the issue. And I never took him seriously because, as a teenager, the pearls of wisdom that our parents and grandparents gift us appear fake and unwanted. It was when COVID struck and my IT-work slowed down that I Googled this episode and was gobsmacked for two reasons: (1) He was right, and (2) No one had written about it in the fictional world.
Of course, there are books that deal with a gendered view of the Partition (The Other Side of Silence by Urvashi Buttalia, being the first of its kind; there’s also a memoir, Torn from the Roots, by Kamla Ben, one of the social workers involved in the rescue work). But the fictional world didn’t have a story dealing with the Rescue and Restoration Act. I wanted to tell the story. While it was not personal – as in, none of the women in my family were abducted, but they did suffer. And I wanted to talk about how women can heal other women (and men) and give a voice to the rescued women.
So, with no idea of how to write a book or craft characters, I busied myself with just doing it.
“The cover was designed by me, and brought to life by Charumati Murali, a freelance artist who works for my publisher, Vishwakarma. It is based on a 100-plus year-old actual phulkari that was embroidered by my great-grandmother, which I still have.”
AB: Beneath Divided Skies is saturated with violence, as it should be, but it also features many moments of fun, friendship among the women and men engaged in rescue work, and beauty – the description of the process of phulkari embroidery comes to mind – and a love triangle. Some of the kidnapped women also make peace with their new families. How did you approach comic relief and, more broadly, the necessity of tonal contrasts for such a dark book?
NS: While I was researching my novel, a lot of my preconceived notions about Punjab and her people were proven to be hollow and/or biased. I had always perceived the region as non-serious or mostly dealing with fluff. But when I realised the depth of pain, misery, and hurt that lurked within Punjabi hearts, and how deftly they sidelined it to present a jolly side to the world, my misconceptions were brought down a peg (or multiple pegs).
When I read Punjabi literature – their barometer of grief – their words pierced my heart. Especially when I read Amrita Pritam’s Aaj Main Waris Shah Nu Akheya. In response to the bloodshed and violence of the Partition, she poured her emotions into writing a powerful poem. She questions Waris Shah, the celebrated Sufi poet of Heer Ranjha, in her poem, asking him to rise from his grave and capture the bloodshed and suffering in a new chapter. Amrita wondered how Waris, who wrote a chapter where one Heer sheds tears, would capture the suffering of so many of Punjab’s daughters being abducted harmed. Amrita, a renowned poet herself, also laments God’s silence as the horrors unfold in front of her. This powerful poem made me cry, and even now the memory of the reading upsets me.
About the ability to derive laughter in dire situations, and use it as a contrast with dramatic events – that is something that pre-existed in my roots and something I’d learnt while reading. As readers, when we read about unfortunate events happening repeatedly to a protagonist, after a while, a sense of apathy sets in. To counter the apathy, one needs to break the humdrum with some humour. A combination of these two facts – my Punjabi staple jocularity and the need to break the grief manacles – was the main reason why I included those light touches. I did my best to keep the humour light because the underlying aspect of the plot could not be trivialised. And I refused to make light of a situation so painful that the wounds are still hurting.
AB: One of Skies’ characters undertakes a massive research project, going around with a tape recorder, collecting stories about Partition from both sides of the border, decades after the fact. What kind of research did you do for Skies? Are any of the characters based on real people?
NS: Since this is a COVID baby, research was conducted from home. Archival records, old newspapers, white papers, and books formed the core. To add the human element, I spoke to several family members and parents of friends who had migrated over to India. I even spoke to people who had already been in India as I needed to get a handle on what the refugees/migrants would have experienced when they landed in India – a foreign country for them. Anecdotal research was very helpful as it brought to life the historical-based texts.
Certain bits of information like the name of the radio station, or whether these Muslim women wore burqas, which language people spoke, or how did Western Punjab’s Punjabi dialect differ from the one spoken in India (does it have more of an Urdu undertone?), what kind of food was available in India (mostly millets), and what did the migrants bring over (rice/wheat)? How did they travel? For me, while setting up a period, I want to know every minor detail. It makes the visualisation process richer and clearer.
I have learnt that we as authors use, maybe, just 10% of what we actually research. But that 10% is enough for me to create an atmosphere that may have existed in those days.
None of the characters is based solely on one person. They’re all a mishmash of people I’ve known. The names of the side characters are taken from my family. Krishnawanti Sharma was my maternal grandmother.
The main characters’ names are the first introduction to the reader. I always choose their names after a lot of research.
AB: Unsurprisingly, many of the rescued women found it hard to adjust back in their original homes, partly because of good old victim-blaming. A woman who’d been kidnapped and raped and/or forcefully married was damaged goods, often no longer welcome back with her natal family or original husband. Tell us about the subsequent lives and decisions of such women. Did RAW intervene in such cases, or take these factors into account in its relocation work in the first place?
NS: The social workers faced a massive dichotomy when dealing with the rescued women, who, unlike in my fictionalised version, were brought to a camp before being sent to India/Pakistan. Many women who had formed families begged to be ‘lost’ so they could return home. This presented a massive problem to the social workers. Being women, they could understand the rescuee’s plight, but they knew they had to follow the law. The blanket nature of the law precluded the possibility of divergent outcomes on a case-by-case basis. (Herein lies the major issue with the Rescue and Restoration Act; more on this later.) I could never verify if they did intervene in individual women’s lives, but a certain number of women were in fact ‘lost’.
But I do know that Gandhiji and Pt. Nehru reached out to the Indian diaspora via radio (the government-preferred means of communication), and, citing the example of Sita (a flawed one, again), begged Hindu and Sikh families to take the rescued women back, despite whatever had happened to them elsewhere. This fell mostly on deaf ears. For most of these women – who had in some cases been rescued against their will – to be denied entry back home and forced to stay in ashrams must have been a double blow. This is why the Rescue and Restoration Act is often termed as a second, official kidnapping. But the resilience of the women, staying afloat despite the horrors they’d faced, was commendable. Many women took things in stride and learnt new skills or utilised old ones. And they lived, some until their death, in the ashram as ‘war widows.’ (That term rankles me in this specific instance.) Because no one wanted them. Even families who placed advertisements in the newspaper for their information turned them away when they actually turned up. (Not all of them, but the number of women who were denied a chance to resume their former lives outweighs those who experienced a miracle.)
In historical literature, we often mention men like MDH Masala, CEAT Tires, etc. as men who made it despite the crippling blow of Partition. But we never focus on the women, who were assaulted, rescued, and abandoned again, who would borrow eight annas of wool from a shopkeeper, knit sweaters and the shopkeeper would give them one anna each for every sale. Or the ones who embroidered, made achars, stayed behind the scenes and helped the men to flourish. This gender-based whitewashing of their efforts really angered me. The women fought back, against wars not of their making, and made a life for themselves (and others). Yet it’s the women who committed suicide to preserve their ‘virtue’ whom we call heroes.
Well.
AB: Writing a novel is a long, hard, lonely, uncertain journey, especially as a debut writer. How did you decide to undertake this task? At what stage did you begin thinking about your book’s marketability?
NS: When I started writing Beneath Divided Skies, I had no goal in mind but a tearing need to narrate a story previously unheard. Because I wrote after I was done researching (as opposed to certain friends who research during/post the first draft), I had everything I wanted, save for a few Punjabi poems. At that point, I did not know if the book would ever sell, but naivete is very insular, and so I just wrote until I had a book ready. And wrote. I had a few avid readers and friends who read the book while I was writing it, and their contributions were peerless.
Meanwhile, a few of my stories were selected for anthologies and the one with eShe, Everything Changed After That, gave me the first taste of holding a book with my name (and others’) on its cover. That is when it dawned upon me that Beneath Divided Skies could have potential.
AB: How did you decide on Vishwakarma Press for Skies? How has your experience been with editing and revising, alone and with editors?
NS: My agent, Ms. Lalitha Ravindran from First Forays, had pitched my book idea to several publishers, and Vishwakarma Press (VP) was the one we chose. To close the deal, we – my uber-talented friend Monica Singh (Pronounced Guilty, Readomania, 2024) and I – met Mr. Vishal Soni and Ms. Nupur Jain in person to discuss my book vision with them. But it was Lalitha who had laid the ground for me.
My experience of working with Ms. Manjula Shukla from the VP editorial staff has been an enlightening experience. For someone to talk to you about your characters as living beings is a high every writer experiences, but the first time is always special. Manjula understood the people in Beneath Divided Skies, their motivations, their dreams, and their losses. And her input was very relevant, and it made perfect sense to me. This was my first interaction with an editor who provided development and line editing feedback to me, so it was overwhelming and exciting in equal parts.
When I self-edit, I vacillate a lot over certain plot points. Will a reader enjoy a certain scene or consider it fluff? Should a specific word be changed? But like writing, my editing is also fluid. There are days when I am more decisive of the overall picture I want to project via my words, and some days when the fog refuses to disperse.
All in all, I will always prefer to create rather than edit. However necessary editing is, it remains a devil to me.
AB: How did you approach marketing for this book – what worked and what didn’t?
NS: I am not very good at self-marketing. This is where a lot of my author friends chipped in with great ideas to help me. I relied mostly on Instagram reels to spread the word. And personal messages on WhatsApp or Facebook to convince people to pick up the book and review it.
My publisher was very supportive and created several opportunities for me to showcase my book, including book launches, felicitations, book festivals, etc. We had the common goal of selling as many copies as feasible. My agent, Lalitha, has also helped to highlight my book by inviting me to closed book-reading sessions and reading groups.
I have realised that smaller reading groups do wonders for sales and/or promotion by word-of-mouth. If the members like your book (and you, of course), then they spread the word, and it reaches an audience you couldn’t capture otherwise. Or even have access to.
Also, taking part in ‘book-to-movie’ events also provides an upward thrust for the popularity of one’s book.
AB: What does a week in your writing life look like?
NS: I am not a structured writer, unfortunately. It is my biggest folly that I cannot devote time to my craft. Despite my best attempts, work and other mundane activities, steal me away from writing. As a person who doesn’t watch television or OTT, my biggest recharge activity is reading. Sometimes I read for the joy of reading, sometimes I read a meh book for the author’s technique, and on rare occasions it is a mix of the two – where learning and enjoyment co-exist.
Music provides the soundtrack to my writing bursts. An eclectic collection, ranging from ghazals to mantras, to rock to ballads, and pop songs. I often listen to it in the background, turned down very low. And it is an excellent mood-setter. Want to write romance? Put on the love songs. Something sad? Break out the heartbreak collection! Music is also a wormhole via which I can peek into my past and sometimes choose certain incidents, which I then fictionalise.
I practice Reiki and meditation to keep me sane. And, of course, the best therapy is a chat with a friend, whether face-to-face or online.
AB: Tell us how you approach reading as a writer.
NS: This is a tough question to answer. Even as a passive reader, you are always absorbing what you read. And when you set off on the writing path, initially your writing reflects what you’ve consumed because not everyone finds their voice immediately. For some of us, it takes time. And it’s during this time, when you are still searching for your voice – that the risk of fan-girling is the highest. My work has also been affected by my favourite writers, especially my sentence formation or my usage of synonyms to push a point across. Over time, through ups and downs, I finally settled on a version that is mine. It may not be 100% pure Natasha, but a more-or-less a cobbled-together version of me. So, getting to your question: I pick up whatever suits my mood at that given point in time. I don’t pursue any specific writer or genre. I enjoy reading almost everything except self-help. I don’t have a method to my madness. It is pure unadulterated insanity.
AB: Do you belong to writers’ groups, reading clubs, and/or critique groups? I met you via a mutual friend from a writing group. Then you introduced me to another writers’ group, the Ink and Quill Community (IQC).
NS: I am part of a few writing groups, but I am yet to fully consume their excellent offerings. IQC is one of them, but their sprint timings do not suit me as I am more of an ad hoc writer. Aiming to be more disciplined, but miles before I sleep.
Penmancy, an online community of writers and readers, has been crucial in shaping me as a writer. It is a group where writers take part in monthly contests and hone their skills. I have received so much support from Team Penmancy and its authors. And it will be the reason I have evolved as a writer. Thanks, Penmancy!
Having said that, I am part of a smaller group of five women writers who have each other’s back and provide encouragement and kicks in equal quantities. Being part of a sisterhood where one can discuss ideas without fear is very freeing, and so is being told that the current crop of ideas you have germinated is crap. And that grounds me when needed and lets me fly when required. A lot of good work has come out with the blessings of my clique and each day, I thank God for it. And their excellent beta reading skills!
AB: What lessons from writing, revising, and publishing your debut book will you be taking to your next? What are you working on now, and when can we expect your next book?
NS: My debut book was one where I was still struggling to become a better writer. And the learning never stops, really. So if I compare my first work with the current one, there is a difference. And it exists because I have grown in those years since I wrote it. I have learnt different techniques, read more books, got critiqued, and also educated myself more.
Having completed a book, my knowledge of the publishing world, marketing strategies, pitching skills, and efficient editing has significantly improved since I started. And what I will take with me to my next book is getting it beta-read while I am still writing. A lesson I have already learnt is it is very difficult to add fillers to a book once you have finished. Not only do they have to be organic, but one has to maintain the characters’ personality threads consistently. And therefore getting pertinent feedback at regular intervals is integral. Of course, many authors do not follow this and that is also alright. As writers, we need to understand and cultivate what works for us best.
What I am working on is another toughie because, much like you, I work on multiple pieces and genres simultaneously. But I have shortlisted what is going to be my next book. A mystery series starring an ex-policewoman in Bombay. And I am very excited about it because I already have the next book in the series planned.
My one suggestion to everyone: please take backups of your work in whatever medium works for you!
Read Natasha’s published stories in MeanPepperVine
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Amita Basu is a Pushcart-nominated writer whose fiction appears in over 75 venues including The Penn Review, Bamboo Ridge, Jelly Bucket, Phoebe, and The Bombay Literary Magazine.
She is the Interviews Editor and Columnist of MeanPepperVine.
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