Acclaimed writer, editor, publisher, and co-director of the Jaipur Literature Festival [JLF], Namita Gokhale was given the Sahitya Akademi Award for her 2016 novel Things to Leave Behind in Delhi on Friday.
She was among 20 other writers who received the prestigious award for their invaluable contribution to Indian literature. With over 20 works of fiction and non-fiction to her credit in the last 38 years, Gokhale has established herself as an important voice in the Indian writing scene, facilitating literary voices old, new, regional, and diverse.
Hours before the scheduled Sahitya Akademi Award ceremony which she could not attend because of her indispensable role at the JLF and her delicate health, she sat down with me at the festival and talked at length about her literary career, Things to Leave Behind, which is getting her acclaim and love from all over, the women that people her books, the emergence of regional translations, and JLF’s future. Edited excerpts below:
What does it mean to win the Sahitya Akademi Award at this stage in your career?
It means all the world to me because the Sahitya Akademi is a great repository and memory keeper of Indian literature. It has tracked, sustained, and nurtured Indian literature in different languages ever since its inception in 1954. It has always had a degree of autonomy and independence. It has sought out some of the best names. It is a tremendous resource, rewarding writing in English, Hindi, and other Indian languages. We always call it many languages, one literature.
The Sahitya Akademi is quite adventurous in the people it rewards. They do it with great discrimination. Take for instance earlier recipients, Jeet Thayil and Arundhathi Subramaniam. So I’m very honoured to be with people who belong both to Indian literature and to English writing. I deeply respect the Sahitya Akademi, and the cohort of people it gives me access to because of being a part of it.
You have been writing for many years now. But the scope, the scale, and the ambition of Things to Leave Behind are unlike any other book that you have written so far. How did this book to you? Where did it all start from?
It all started many, many years ago. David Davidar [novelist, publisher] told me, “Namita, it’s time to write your big book.” This was in 2002. He said it should be about my family, the people I know in the mountains. The idea stayed with me, took root, and I started taking notes. I wrote the first 10,000 words. Then my daughter got married. That distracted me.
Once you get distracted from a book, you pick up other ideas. So I carried this book around, writing bits and pieces for it for almost 12 years. Then finally in 2014 or 2015, I gave it to Penguin. And then my editor Rajni George took another two years to make me work on it because it had become too sprawling. I used to carry it around like a piece of knitting everywhere. It was all over the place, and needed a good editor to hold the pieces together.
I wrote Things to Leave Behind because I knew its world, and that world has changed. Another generation of pahadis and Kumaonis value it as a memory of a homeland which they all feel attached to wherever in the world they may live.
Writing it must have required extensive research?
Not really, because it was all there in my memory. In 1998, my book of oral biographies, called Mountain Echoes: Reminisces of Kumaoni Women, was published. In it, I wrote about my grandmother and three great aunts’ memories of the mountains and the memories of their mothers. It had 100 years of domestic history. Because I transcribed and edited that book, I had learned so much about the history in a very intimate way, like Tilottama [the central character in Things to Leave Behind] is always drinking banar tea. I don’t know what banar tea is but all of them used to talk about their mothers drinking it. I got so many stories out of that. It was an archive that I didn’t consciously use but which informed every bit of the book.
Then there was Atkinson’s Himalayan Gazetteer which gave great accounts of the mountains. My great grandfather Kumaon Kesari BD Pandey had written Kumaon Ka Itihaas. I used that as a resource also.
[caption id=“attachment_10464801” align=“alignnone” width=“640”]  Cover of Things To Leave Behind[/caption]
How did the title Things to Leave Behind come about?
The title can be interpreted in two ways. You can look at it as things you move on from or as positive things that you leave behind as a legacy. I felt this was things to leave behind in a positive way. It’s something that I am leaving behind as a gift for future generations to remember, one little corner of the Himalayas that used to be our collective home. The title, therefore, gives me an immense sense of satisfaction.
What was the most difficult bit about bringing together a story as expansive as this one?
The editing. Because there were so many different storylines and jumps in time, it was difficult to see which narrative to follow. The book has several characters each with their own story, so to keep a thread through it was a challenge.
From Paro in your debut book to Tilottama of Things to Leave Behind, you are known for writing strong, independent women. Has it been a conscious choice?
It’s the way I grew up. Women who grow up in the mountains have some degree of physical fortitude in their genes. They have to be strong to carry the firewood, water, to fight off tigers, panthers. It’s a tough life. If you are physically strong, you feel stronger mentally too. A certain amount of mental fortitude and confidence builds in. Women in the mountains are tough. I have not met any weak, sniveling, feeling sorry for themselves women there. They just do it and move on.
Though a lot of work has been happening, what do you think can be done to make regional translations popular?
Since we began the Jaipur Literature Festival 15 years ago to now, I’d say the importance of translations has gone up at least 10 times.
Take for instance Tomb of Sand, the English translation [by Daisy Rockwell] of Geentajali Shree’s Hindi novel Ret Samadhi. It has been shortlisted for the International Booker Prize. It’s the first-ever Hindi novel to have found a spot on this prestigious list. It is a big deal.
Or Arunava Sinha getting the Vani Foundation Distinguished Translator Award this year. He’s not just translated over 65 books [from Bengali to English and vice-versa], he’s also now set up a new department of literary translations at the Ashoka University. Chuden Kabimo is another fantastic example. He wrote Song of the Soil in Nepali. Ajit Baral translated it into English, which Rachna Books has published. Vani has published the Hindi translation. It’s also out in Bengali. Now, Balestier Press is about to publish it in the UK. This is when Chuden Kabimo doesn’t know a word in English. So things are happening.
Over the years, the JLF has gone international, the fabled venue of the on-ground festival has changed, and now after the pandemic, it has become hybrid too. What does the future look like?
I have no idea. This festival has always had a mysterious life of its own, and it is literally taking me for a ride along with it. I follow where it goes. It’s taking us to the Maldives in May. All of us just try to follow the spirit of the festival. And that spirit is spontaneous, inclusive, and democratic. By inclusive, I mean inclusive of different and often conflicting ideas. This year, especially, with the new venue and with complete uncertainty, we were groping in the dark. We had no idea what would happen and then, out of the blue, this does.
When not reading books or watching films, Sneha Bengani writes about them. She tweets at @benganiwrites. Read all the Latest News , Trending News , Cricket News , Bollywood News , India News and Entertainment News here. Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.