Source of book: Audiobook from the library
This book won the International Booker Prize in 2025, which is when I added it to the list.
The author and the book warrant some explanation.
The stories were originally written in Kannada, a language mostly spoken in southern India. It is one of the Dravidian languages, related to Tamil, but not close to the best-known Indian languages of Hindi and Urdu. It is spoken by around 65 million people worldwide, according to the translator. It also was used as the official court language for dynasties of the past.
So, it is a significant and important language, even though it isn’t that well known in the United States. I mention this in part because it is the first work I have read translated from Kannada, and also because there are a number of untranslated words in the book that you just have to figure out from context.
Banu Mushtaq isn’t just a writer, although she has written quite a number of short stories and poems, a novel, and essays. She is also a lawyer and feminist activist. Both of these inform her writing, and the stories in this collection often involve the failures of the legal system to protect vulnerable women.
Mushtaq’s personal life is also fascinating. She apparently has a great facility in languages, speaking a half dozen fluently. She was born into a devout Muslim family, but defied expectations by waiting until age 26 to marry, and then doing so for love, not as an arranged marriage.
She has been involved in feminist activism for decades. In one case, she was boycotted and threatened for advocating for the admission of women to mosques. On the other side, she has also advocated for the right of Muslim women to wear the hijab in schools, in response to the Hindu majority in India suppressing minority rights.
So, quite the character, and an interesting writer.
Heart Lamp is a collection of twelve short stories, mostly about everyday life for working and middle class Muslim women in India. Many of them have feminist themes, but that undersells the richness of the stories. They are all about ordinary people, ordinary situations, family dynamics, social problems, the sort of things that all of us humans around the world have experienced and can understand.
The stories were selected by the translator from across the author’s career. Thus, they feel very much like a “greatest hits,” rather than an album, if that makes sense.
I also want to note at the outset that if you read them from the wrong perspective, you will miss the nuance that religion plays in this book. It is all too easy to lapse into islamophobia, and smugness about the supposed superiority of Western views of women.
This is problematic for a few reasons. First, and one that struck me immediately, the patriarchal attitudes of the men in this book are all too familiar to those of us who grew up in the Christian Patriarchy subculture. The idea that women are essentially property, to be owned by men, is endemic to that subculture as much as it is to conservative Islam. I noted so many direct parallels between the things said in this book and things I have heard over the years from the various theobros within our modern White Christian Nationalism movement.
Thus, if you aren’t paying attention, you will miss what this book has to say about our own version of patriarchy.
Second, and this was fascinating to me as well, Mushtaq pushes back against patriarchy by showing that the patriarchal power structures, legal realities, and social culture are actually in violation of the official teachings of Islam. It isn’t that Islam doesn’t protect the rights of women to be supported and not abandoned, it is that the mosques, the courts, and society refuse to enforce the rights granted to women in the Koran.
This is very much like the work of various feminist Christian advocates, who point out the many ways that patriarchy ignores everything from the teachings of Christ to the history of the early church, which had full leadership by women. The issue isn’t religion per se, but the way that patriarchy - and indeed hierarchies of power in general - have co-opted religion for its own ends.
Third, what this book brings out is the connection between power and oppression. In a society where, for a variety of cultural, legal, structural, economic, and religious reasons, one gender is denied meaningful power - social, economic, and political - that gender (or ethnicity, or religion, or other classification) will inevitably be oppressed. The power feeds the oppression, which then reinforces the power.
So, the better lesson is one that history has taught us, which is that power structures need to be changed. It isn’t enough to “fix” theology to be more “kind” to the powerless. You need to actually eliminate the power differential, and change will follow.
Just one way this works is that trying to change the theology of gender will never actually happen until you give women and gender/sexual minorities equal power in determining what that theology will be. And that goes equally for Christianity as for Islam.
Finally, if these stories show anything, it is that the power structures themselves determine what thought is even possible. Many of the men in these stories aren’t monsters per se, but they do monstrous things because of the culture that envelopes them: the expectation of what women are and how they should act, the beliefs about what men are entitled to have and do, how both fit into the social structure.
I should also add that while there are some definite villains, there are a lot more complicated people. Some of the women are pretty horrible too, some of the men are caught in situations where there is no good answer, most of the men are feckless and thoughtless, not intentionally cruel.
I should also mention that the audiobook has two narrators - a woman for the stories from the female perspective, a man for the ones from the male perspective. Mushtaq doesn’t write from a single perspective - the stories are from a variety of points of view, male and female, rich(ish) and poor.
With that, I want to look at each of the stories briefly.
“Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal”
This story is narrated by a young, educated woman - perhaps much like the author in her youth - newly married. Her husband gets a job out in the sticks, and she finds herself lonely, until she meets another, slightly older couple.
The husband, Iftikhar, seems devoted to his wife, Shaista, particularly by the standards of the culture. However, he seems to envision his daughters getting married off early, without any education.
Shaista already has six children, and the eldest daughter is tasked with helping to raise them, despite her obvious aptitude for academics.
Shaista intends to get sterilized after her pregnancy finishes, even though her husband doesn’t agree. This is a factor in multiple stories, by the way - the connection of contraception to women’s rights, particularly the right to their own bodies.
“Fire Rain”
This is a law-oriented story, from the perspective of the local mutawalli, who seems to be a civic functionary connected to the mosque. He apparently lends money and resolves minor disputes.
There are several interconnected issues of justice that arise. First of all, his sister has demanded that she receive her lawful share of the inheritance. Under Sharia Law, she is entitled to it (something islamophobes don’t realize about their favorite bogeyman), but “tradition” has tended to let the oldest son manage the money for everyone else.
The story, even with its heavy themes, turns humorous when the central issue ends up being a ne’r-do-well who goes missing, and it appears his body was buried in the Hindu cemetery, without the proper rights. This becomes a whole case, an exhumation, and the embarrassment when the “dead” man turns up. Oh well…
But throughout this story (which I thought was a particularly good one) is the question of how to do justice. There is always a tension between community expectations, the letter of the law, and what true justice would be, particularly for women.
Something to think about.
“Black Cobras”
Another law-related story, and one that is pretty heart-rending and infuriating. A young woman is abandoned with her three daughters when her husband decides to take a second wife. Because she only gave birth to daughters, of course.
Sharia Law is clear here: the first wife is to receive exactly the same as any subsequent wife, to the very letter of each item.
But the husband has no intention of providing anything. He totally abandons his wife and children to starvation, despite what Sharia actually says. And the local mosque leader looks the other way, claiming that the wife should have worked harder to satisfy her husband.
This one had so many trigger points from my own fundamentalist background, including that admonition that the woman bears the responsibility when she is abandoned, abused, or cheated on.
Another trigger was this: the first wife was raised in a super-devout family, deprived of sex education, and taught to repress her sexuality. So naturally, after three daughters in a short time, when her body shows signs of age and neglect, the husband trades her in on a younger, more sexually open woman. Yeah, this is pretty much what Fundie religious leaders do.
A fascinating result of the horrible events of this story is that the women themselves take action, including getting sterilized.
“A Decision of the Heart”
This is one of the more subtle stories, and involves two women, both of which have some issues, and a man caught in the middle.
Yusef was raised by his widowed mother, Mehaboob Bi, who he now cares for. His wife, Akhila, is absurdly jealous of this, and starts a fight over it. To be fair, mommy isn’t great at defusing things either, and poor Yusef can’t seem to do anything right.
Finally, fed up, he is baited into arranging a marriage for his mother, so that she will have a husband to care for her.
Ultimately, the situation is resolved in a reasonable manner, but one does have to wonder why the women - particularly the wife - had to be so horrible about it.
But here too, society plays a problematic role. Without a social safety net, all widows have is their sons to support them. And if there is only one son…
But likewise, a wife loses social status if she isn’t taken care of in style, and people talk when the mother looks like number one.
And Yusef, having little in the way of resources himself, has to balance the demands of his wife with the needs of his mother. There is no real way to win for him.
“Red Lungi”
This is another story with a certain amount of humor. Razia, a relatively wealthy woman, gets stressed out when relatives - including a LOT of young boy cousins - descend on her house for an event, decides to sponsor a mass circumcision ceremony - bankrolling the cost for a lot of poor residents of the town.
This story is a bit graphic, though, so be warned, particularly since in the Islamic tradition, this is done when boys are older, not infants.
In addition to the humor and the interesting slice of culture, there is also a subplot regarding wealth and privilege, and the duty we owe to the poorer members of our communities.
“Heart Lamp”
This story is openly feminist, with a look at the impossible pressures placed on women in a patriarchal society. I wonder if it is based on one of the author’s cases.
Yet again, you have a man who has largely abandoned his family for a new wife. In this case, the first wife attempts to flee back to her family, but they reject her. Again, it is her fault that she has been abandoned for a younger woman.
In this case, one feels particularly sympathy for the first wife, because she was forced to give up her education by her family, in favor of an arranged marriage that has clearly not worked out for her. And, as in the earlier story, her own family refuses to confront the man and demand what their own sister and daughter is entitled to under Sharia Law.
The ending is very nearly tragic, and in fact is still somewhat tragic, even if not as horrid as it threatens to be.
The thing here, once again, is that what is needed is no so much a religious change as a legal one. If an abandoned wife could get instant child support and spousal support, she wouldn’t be in this awful situation.
I should also mention that we Westerners shouldn’t be smug about this. It wasn’t that long ago - my parents’ lifetime - that marital rape was legal, that men could take the children from a woman who left an abusive marriage, and when a woman couldn’t even file for divorce on the grounds of mental abuse.
As I pointed out years ago in a post (that got me on the bad side of my former pastor), it wasn’t “Christianity” that made the difference - it was Feminism. It was the demand by women that the law and society change.
“High Heeled Shoe”
Another humorous story. Nayez has inferiority issues with his younger brother, who has become wealthy, while Nayez is stuck in a low bureaucratic position. At the same time, his brother is unhappy that Nayez has managed their modest inheritance without consulting him.
At the center of the story is a ridiculous pair of high heeled shoes that the younger brother’s wife wears, that Nayez has become obsessed with, despite the fact that his own wife is pregnant and doesn’t like that kind of shoe.
There are some echoes of Mma Makutsi in Alexander McCall Smith’s books in this story.
“Soft Whispers”
This story is both a present-day story, and a nostalgic look back at childhood events in the life of a young girl. There is also the question as to whether a childhood nemesis has grown into a decent man - and if he even remembers the past.
This one has careful detail, and memorable incidents. A very well-written story.
“A Taste of Heaven”
Probably the most hilarious of the stories. It contains an edge of social commentary inside - the problem of a woman widowed at a young age, who never had children, and whose family has essentially failed to facilitate a remarriage.
But the woman in question, Bi Dadi, also has some, well, issues. The inciting incident is one where a young and feckless nephew uses her ancient and frayed prayer mat to wipe off his motorcycle, causing her to essentially go on hunger strike no matter how many apologies she receives.
Oh, and she probably is in the early stages of dementia, which doesn’t help at all. After several failed attempts to get her out of her funk fail, including a change of residence, what ends up working is unexpected and indeed accidental.
The children give her a drink of Pepsi, and claim it is aab-e-kausar, the sacred water of heaven. Believing that she has died, and that her late husband is there with her (even though she cannot see him), she suddenly has a zest for life again. As long as the Pepsi keeps on flowing…
“The Shroud”
This story is a commentary on class, on promises, and on carelessness. When an old servant requests that Shaziya bring back a burial shroud for her when she goes on her Haj pilgrimage, Shaziya starts off with good intentions. But then she gets distracted, and ends up with too much luggage for the return journey, and the shroud is forgotten.
Shaziya’s guilt will haunt her after her servant’s death.
“The Arabic Teacher and Gobi Manchuri”
Another humorous story, but also rather weird. Because the narrator is a lawyer much like the author, I wonder if there is a personal connection.
Because of social norms, despite having the better job, the lawyer is expected to do all the childrearing. And that includes finding an Arabic teacher for the children.
The one the narrator ends up with though, has a bizarre obsession with Gobi Manchuri, an Indo-Chinese food commonly sold from street stalls - and perhaps an analogue to french fries here in the US.
Anyway, total junk food, and not something a self-respecting Indian wife would cook.
But he teacher is obsessed, leading to a compromising situation with the daughters he is supposed to be teaching. Not that he was doing anything bad - they were trying to cook Gobi Manchuri.
Things spiral out of control from there, leading the poor lawyer trying to figure out if she can save a marriage….with a simple recipe.
“Be A Woman Once, Oh Lord”
This isn’t so much a story as a prayer. A prayer from an abandoned and abused woman to Allah, which ends with the title as the final line.
And it really is a tour-de-force of the toxic combination of theology, power, and dehumanization.
This is the inherent problem when the Divine is envisioned as being male. Women are inevitably seen and treated as sub-human.
The specifics of the events in this story/prayer may be rooted in the culture described, but they are a sad refrain wherever women are seen as less-than men, where power is vested in males, and where the Divine itself is seen as phallic.
***
Heart Lamp is an interesting collection, and worth the Booker prize.
I want to note that the translator, Deepa Bhasthi, includes an extensive note at the end, which is also very good. In it, she talks about everything from her conversations with the author - they grew up fairly close together, although the translator is Hindu - to why words in various languages are left untranslated. It’s quite fascinating.
The narrators of the audiobook are Deepti Gupta and Vikas Adam, and they did a good job of capturing the nuances of the untranslated words, as well as a certain cadence that (in my experience) captures a certain region of India - we have a lot of Indian immigrants and their descendants where I live.
