Literature that preserves its cultural authenticity resonates with readers: Banu Mushtaq

In a literary journey shaped by resistance, rootedness and relentless honesty, Banu Mushtaq has consistently used her pen as a tool of social intervention, putting Karnataka on the global literary map. The 77-year-old writ er, activist, Booker Prize winner and one of the most com pelling voices in contemporary Kannada literature reflects on her work with purpose rather than triumph. The Bangalore Times’ Headliner says her greatest pride lies in giving voice to those who are often unheard. Excerpts:

ON WHY WOMEN’S STORIES MUST BE TOLD REPEATEDLY
“When I look back at my work in writing and social activism, I feel proud that I have had the opportunity to be a voice for the op pressed,” she says. For Banu, writing has never been a solitary artistic pur suit; it has always been a responsibility. “I believe we must continue to write about women because, for centu ries, they have been underprivileged in a patriarchal so ciety, and they continue to be so even today. Society rec ognises their oppression, yet very little is done to ad dress it. In fact, the oppression of women is becoming increasingly institutionalised. That is precisely why we must keep writing about their realities.” Her conviction is rooted in the socio-political climate that shaped her formative years as a writer. Banu began writing at 29, during a time of ideological churn and cultural activism in Karnataka. “Back then, writing was deeply experiential,” she recalls. “There were nu merous social movements unfolding around us.” Kanna da literature itself was undergoing a significant shift — from Navya (modernism) to Bandaya (rebellion). Theatre groups such as Samudaya, which focused on social caus es, were emerging. Cultural programmes centred on pressing social issues. “All of this shaped our writing,” she says. If she were starting out today, she believes the influ ence may not have been the same. “I don’t think my work would have evolved in the same way had I begun now. There seems to be less space for human values today,” she reflects.

ON WHY LOCAL IS GLOBAL
Despite the changing land scape, Banu’s advice to young writers remains clear and un wavering: stay rooted. “If I were to offer advice to young writers who want their work to reach people from all walks of life, I would tell them to remain grounded in their soil,” she says. Recalling her experience of receiving the Booker Prize, she adds, “The organisers used the phrase ‘Local is global,’ and I completely agree. Literature that preserves its local dialects, voices, emotions and cultur al authenticity leaves a powerful impact on readers, no matter where they are in the world,” she says. In an era dominated by digital media, Banu remains sceptical about the transformative power of social me dia trends. “Reels, videos and social media cannot bring about social change in the way literature can,” she says. “We rarely see reels that meaningfully raise awareness about serious issues. Yet we have seen people risk — and even lose — their lives creating content for likes and views.” She contrasts the fleeting nature of online fame with the enduring labour of literature. “Someone may go viral overnight, but that fame fades just as quickly. Literature works differently. It does not create sudden fame or instant change. It demands sus tained effort over years, but its impact is deep and long lasting,” she says.

BENGALURU’S CONTRIBUTION TO LITERATURE
Banu first came to Bengaluru at the age of 22, accompanied by her father after spotting a newspaper announcement for an announcer’s position at All India Radio. “I was called for an interview, and that was my rst experience of the city,” she recalls. While Bengaluru may not have de ned her personal life, she acknowledges its immense literary contribution. “When I travel abroad and introduce myself, I often say I am from a town four hours away from Bengaluru, as not many people recognise Hassan,” she says. “Many Kannada authors and poets, though originally from different parts of the state, have settled in Bengaluru for work. People from various elds — education, arts, sports and more — have also contributed signi cantly to Kannada literature,” she points out. She believes the debate around Kannada in Bengaluru stems from a fear of losing the city’s identity. Yet she rmly rejects the idea that cosmopolitanism erases cultural roots. “It is incorrect to say that Bengaluru has lost its identity because of its cosmopolitan nature. The city still retains its originality, tranquillity and cultural depth,” she says. Unlike other metropolitan spaces that may feel transactional, she believes Bengaluru continues to offer a sense of belonging. “There is still a feeling of calling it ‘Namma Ooru’ (our city), regardless of where one comes from. What Hassan means to me is what Bengaluru represents for many others,” she says.Get the latest entertainment updates from the Times of India, along with the latest Hindi movies, upcoming Hindi movies in 2026 , and Telugu movies.”