Latest news with #Bhasthi
Hindustan Times
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Behind the scenes of Deepa Bhasthi's new book
Deepa Bhasthi — who won the International Booker Prize this year along with Banu Mushtaq whose short stories she translated from Kannada into English — has a new book out. Titled Champi and the Fig Tree, it is a picture book for children that celebrates what human beings share with various other species through the story of a girl named Champi who loves figs. A page from Champi and the Fig Tree (Courtesy Pratham Books) 14pp, ₹70; Pratham Books The protagonist is awe-struck when she discovers that her favourite fruit has many other fans, including squirrels, hornbills, porcupines and civet cats. Without being didactic, the author signals a gentle shift from an anthropocentric view of the universe to a more holistic and inclusive vision that respects the place of all sentient beings in the vast web of life. Anna, Champi's elder brother, is a storehouse of knowledge about animal behaviour. He joins her in all her adventures. 'Porcupines cannot climb trees, Champi,' he tells her. 'This must be a civet cat's droppings. Both eat figs. But they are both very shy animals, and come out only at night.' He encourages her curiosity, and answers all her questions patiently. 'Champi, in fact, is the name of one of my dogs, and the fig tree is my best non- human friend on the farm I live on,' says Bhasthi. 'Of course, we also have all those animals that I mention on the farm. They are a big menace, but I wouldn't have it any other way,' she adds. Bhasthi lives with her husband and her dogs in a 'small, sustainable open brick cottage' built on a former coffee plantation in Kodagu, Karnataka. This land, which has belonged to her family for close to a century, has jackfruit, mango, fig, bakul, mahogany, 'and loads of other shade-giving trees'. Alongside, they have mongooses, porcupines, wild boars, and 'some 50-odd kinds of birds that live in and around'. Her parents live on the other side of the farm. The author's intimate connection with nature comes through in the way she has envisioned the protagonist and plot but she is also embarrassed about how her 'Instagram-y' her life sounds. While her husband has recently turned into an avid beekeeper, she does not work on the farm as much as she would like to. 'The idea was to slow down and be a farmer when we moved back here but the writing career kind of blew up, not that I am complaining at all!' she says. 'I don't find the time to do much. It is mostly my husband who works on things.' The story was originally written in Kannada as Anjoora, Anjoora, Yaara Anjoora and published in 2024 on StoryWeaver, a multilingual digital library of children's stories, created by Pratham Books. Since the platform is geared towards development of reading skills, stories are published using a Creative Commons license and they can be downloaded free of cost as well as translated into numerous languages. While other translators have worked on the Marathi, Gujarati, Odia, Hindi, Tamil, French and Bahasa Indonesia translations, Bhasthi translated it herself into English. It came into being as a printed book in English this year. Bijal Vachharajani, Commissioning Editor at Pratham Books, says, 'I met Deepa during the British Council Art X International Publishing Fellowship 2022 in Jaipur. It was just so wonderful listening to her talk about all the work that she has done in translation.' When Pratham Books got a grant from Parag — an initiative of Tata Trusts — to develop and publish 'Kannada-first books', the editorial team at Pratham Books reached out to Bhasthi. Radhika Shenoy from Pratham Books, who edited the book, says, 'Working with Deepa Bhasthi was a great experience. This is her first picture book and she was very enthusiastic about the process. She had clear ideas about how she wanted to write and translate the story, and at the same time she was open to conversations so it was a very smooth process.' The publisher also brought in Thejaswi Shivanand as a guest editor to work on the Kannada story with Bhasthi. With his wealth of experience as a librarian and educator, and his immersion in the world of picture books, he was able to help Bhasthi think more clearly about the possibilities of the format that she was working with and the target audience. He says, 'The initial draft was text-heavy. Over time, Deepa was able to figure out what was absolutely essential to say in words, and what could be conveyed through images. These are parallel forms of storytelling. Deepa was new to it but she embraced it.' He wanted to ensure that his feedback was not overwhelming and her voice came through. Working on this title was a special joy because of his familiarity with the flora and fauna of the Western ghats. A page from Champi and the Fig Tree (Courtesy Pratham Books) The book is illustrated by Joanna Mendes, who says she was delighted to take on the assignment as her son had just begun to learn Kannada at school. She hoped that he would be 'thrilled to read a Kannada language book illustrated by his mum'. In order to get into the spirit of wonder and playfulness embodied by the protagonist, Mendes 'tuned out the noise of city life in Bangalore and delve into the memories of childhood holidays in Goa'. The strong visual appeal of the book comes from the illustrator's use of the stippling technique, which involves 'meticulously marking dots with a pen on paper to create shading and texture'. She drew inspiration from the diverse colours and textures that exist in nature. Mendes explains, 'I vary the technique—sometimes the dots are large or small, densely packed or sparse, forming gradients or flat areas. This kind of variation adds depth… The art is coloured using digitally composited watercolour textures, which are then overlaid with stippled layers.' She prefers to stipple by hand as 'digital stippling lacks the tactile quality, which is better achieved by using pen on paper'. Deepa Bhasthi An integral part of the book, the illustrations transport readers into Champi's bright, colourful and dreamy world. It is a place where humans can coexist with other beings. There is enough here for all to derive what Vachharajani describes as 'sustenance and joy'. This book might seem like a small achievement in comparison to the £50,000 bestowed by the International Booker Prize, and shared equally between the author and the translator. However, the satisfaction that comes from putting a smile on a child's face is priceless. Chintan Girish Modi is a journalist, educator and literary critic. He can be reached @chintanwriting on Instagram and X.
Hindustan Times
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Making of the sisterhood of a writer, her translator
The collection Heart Lamp: Selected Stories has riches, and some repetitive moments. That said, it is undeniably one of the very few examples of its kind, available in English. Like the Tamil writer Salma, Banu Mushtaq takes us to a different geography and gives us a linguistically heterogeneous, domestic world of Muslim men and women — markedly different from the North Indian fare of an Attia Hosain or Khadija Mastoor. However, my thoughts today are not so much about the original but the translation, and it involves not a comparison with the original (for I can't read Kannada) but how it comes over to us. In other words, how do I read this text as a non-Kannadiga woman reader/translator and respond from that twin-ness. This is also to foreground the translator's role who, unlike many translators has been rewarded, but like most translators, not engaged with. Like translators, readers also translate, fill gaps, and sometimes don't. (AP) When you open the book, you move directly into the first story. There is no introduction to the writer, or the translator's note — the opening paragraph in Deepa Bhasthi's translation makes a luminous start — the long sentence is done sharply, going from the 'concrete jungle' through 'people, people, people' and ending with the introduction of Mujahid. The voice is that of Zeenat ('Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal') who then tells us how absurdly few choices there are for educated and intelligent women to introduce husbands. Mushtaq's comment on the limited language of kinship and intimacy and its repeated failure to sustain equality is picked up by Bhasthi who brings us to a witty voice, playful options such as ganda or pati and ending with how for women, Muslim women in particular, husband-as-God is sanctified in language. So, what can a Zeenat-like person do in such circumstances? Zeenat who notices the 'labour' of both Shaista and Asifa. Mushtaq, Zeenat, Bhasthi – all of them show a keen ear for what is not said, and push the conventions of language. The first striking impression is that the writer had found her translator and we have entered a world of women whose myriad spoken and unspoken words have found a place. Women translators have often found thick histories behind women's few words, told in seriousness or in play. Every once in a while, (not always), you can't help feeling that when you read a translation that only a woman could have written this; translated this — both acts intertwine, interchange, and become inseparable. Does writing carry the gender of its creator? Perhaps. It is more evident on some days. Bhasthi's use of the words, 'arey, I forgot' or 'Che! I have made a mistake' also helps define Zeenat conversationally. There's comfort with which Bhasthi makes rules and breaks them as she pleases. Her use of Indian repetitions such as 'hot-hot' samosa sparkles, and does not feel oriental or gimmick-like. Bhasthi has a light touch, she does things but also lets them be allowing for intrigue as well as familiarity. For instance, the song about pigs in 'Fire Rain'. 'Handi yendeke heegaleyuve...' which she does not translate, instead builds its meaning into the interpretative sentences of the next paragraph. 'The meat of a pig is haram. Likewise anger. Devout Muslims believe that they become impure if they even see a pig', and so on. As a non-Kannadiga reader who didn't understand the song, I saw the word handi several times and knew that to be the pig. The corrosive effects of this prohibitive food on the body, at home? I wondered. It was much too important to let it go, so I confirmed it with a Kannadiga friend. However, take another instance in the same story, 'Shavige payasa'. I do not know what 'shavige' means. The word payasa is close to payasam which I do know. So I fill in the gap and tell myself it is some kind of kheer, an analogical element that helps me get through. The sentence also has some context: '…that sister had come and asked for a share in the family property, and made the biryani and shavige payasa prepared in her honour taste bitter'. On the other hand, the word 'Rii' used in this collection by the women to address their husbands made me wonder if it was an elevating word of respect or an endearment. The relationships between husbands and wives in Heart Lamp make little room for endearments so I stayed with that ambivalence, without an anxiety to find out. The word seragu refers to the head-covering by women, but is it like a dupatta? Perhaps it is. Bhasthi would not appreciate this north Indianisation I am doing! It would have helped a little to know 'Rii' more than seragu. Is it untranslatable because it's too intimate or not intimate at all? My discomfiture with somewhat monochromatic conjugality in the book comes to my aid in making some assumptions here. Like translators, readers also translate, fill gaps, and sometimes don't, knowing that it may not be possible or even necessary. The odd Urdu word, the question tag, the Kannada word that is sometimes translated and sometimes not — is there a coherent philosophy here? It is, by Bhasthi's admissions, a 'sisterhood' and if I may add, one that also involved the writer and translator playing with multiple languages throwing words back and forth — Dakhini, Urdu, Telugu, Kannada and so on. The combination of shared understanding on one hand, and a rich repository of multilingual practices of speech by both women have created, I believe, a highly nimble, unapologetically 'itself' and sparkling translation. What goes as the translator's note appears at the end, titled 'against italics'. Bhasthi's translation philosophy is not only against italics, it is against taming. But so is Mushtaq's book and all the women in and around. Rita Kothari is professor of English, Ashoka University, and co-director, Ashoka Center for Translation. The views expressed are personal.
The Hindu
20-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
Beyond Heart Lamp's success: Are translators getting the credit that's due?
'Against Italics' - Deepa Bhasthi's translator's note for Heart Lamp, which won the International Booker Prize 2025, made headlines. The translator's note section, which is usually skipped, drew attention this time. 'Setting aside the futile debate of what is lost and found in translation', Ms. Bhasthi talks about her deliberate choice to not use italics for the Kannada, Urdu, and Arabic words that remain untranslated in English. Ms. Bhasthi ends the translator's note saying, 'Italics serve to not only distract visually, but more importantly, they announce words as imported from another language, exoticising them and keeping them alien to English. By not italicising them, I hope the reader can come to these words without interference, and in the process of reading with the flow, perhaps even learn a new word or two in another language. Same goes for footnotes – there are none'. While talking to The Hindu, Ms. Bhasthi says this translator's note has been met with a lot of love and care, and attention by readers as well. One of the reasons why words are italicised in translated texts is that there may be no exact equivalent in the target language of translation ~ seen as untranslatability. Until some years ago, this idea of untranslatability was the prominent discourse in translated literature, viewed negatively. Conversations about translated texts have, however, become more nuanced now, and translation is coming to be seen as a creative process as much as writing. As translators claim creative agency and push back against conventions like italicisation, the way a translator's role is perceived is evolving. From what's lost to what's found Ms. Bhasthi prefers the term writer-translator over just translator, which reduces the translator's job to one less than the writer. She says translation is as much a creative practice as writing, and autonomy in translation is important, as without it, her job would be no different than ChatGPT. 'That said, of course, if the author is living, it is always nice to be in conversation with them about their stories and, you know, get insights', she says. Moutushi Mukherjee, Commissioning Editor at Penguin Random House India, states that translators are now able to talk more about the tremendous impact a translation can have on expanding a literary heritage to wider audiences. She notes that there is a growing number of enthusiastic and resourceful translators in the country, which she sees as a very positive development. Ms. Mukherjee adds that the translators themselves are now more vocal about their role, putting themselves out there, so to speak, and emphasizing their contributions. According to Ms. Mukherjee, wins like Tomb of Sand (for Daisy Rockwell) and Heart Lamp (for Deepa Bhasthi) have also, obviously, changed the way readers perceive the translator. Translator visibility on book covers The book cover for Heart Lamp, published by Penguin, features an artwork at the top, followed by the book title and subtitle in red and sky blue-colored fonts, respectively. The next prominent feature is the author's name, Banu Mushtaq, spaced across the centre of the cover. It is then followed by Ms. Bhasthi's name in a smaller font, highlighting her 'Winner of the English PEN Translates Award 2024' achievement. A similar pattern of book covers is visible in the Perennial translation series by Harper Collins, and their back covers provide a brief introduction to both the author and the translator. This wasn't always the norm. Ms. Bhasthi says this visibility on the book cover is much better than until a few years ago, as translators' names would be somewhere inside the book and not on the cover. But now nearly all publishers put the translator's name on the cover. In a 2016 opinion piece for The Hindu, translator S. Krishnamurthy writes, 'Except on the title page and the cover, nowhere else will you see your name or any other details about you (translator). If your name is an ubiquitous sort, as is mine, nobody will even know you are the translator, unless you tell them'. Ms. Bhasthi says there still needs to be a lot of awareness about this, and it needs to start with the media. She states that there is an attitude that continues to persist in the media, especially, where somehow it is enough to just name the writer of the original work and not name the writer-translator who has brought the work into English or whatever other language. Ms. Bhasthi says we have certainly come a long way, but she thinks we still have a very long way to go before writer-translators are also seen on an equal footing with the writers in the original languages as well. Stepping aside from India, the research paper, 'Examining Intersemiotic translation of book covers as a medium of culture transfer,' was published in 2018. Among other aspects, it attempts to concentrate on the elements and criteria that are directly related to the visibility of translators. It takes into account five translations of Ernest Hemingway's, 'The Old Man and the Sea', in Iran, one of the most translated books in the country. The research paper finds that the title is designed with the biggest font, and then the name of the author in a quite smaller font, and lastly, the name of the translator is printed in the smallest font. 'It is also worth mentioning that in two works, the name of the translator is not even printed on the front cover, i.e., Manzoori and Parsay translations. In other words, the mentioned pattern prioritises the importance of each item: first the work, then the author, and last the translator. These covers also don't provide specific information in the book for introducing the translator or his/her other translated works to the interested readers', the paper says. In the Indian publishing industry the scene has changed. Urvashi Butalia, publisher, teacher and activist, says, 'There is greater acknowledgement and this is evident in all the things such as larger fonts, better placement, and also in including translators in media events. By contrast, I've not seen many reviews that mention names of translators, although again I could be wrong'. Ms. Mukherjee says credit is very important. She states that a simple act of giving credit to the translator on the cover of the book, and yes, equal weightage inside the book, has gone a long way, in her personal experience. Ms. Mukherjee also says we should expand that credit in a broader sense: include the translator in all marketing and publicity details, retail campaigns, and general discussion about the book. She emphasizes giving the translator the visibility they deserve across festivals and awards. According to Ms. Mukherjee, if we want to give visibility to translators, we must do so collaboratively, across all stakeholders. Promoting translated literature Translators are being acknowledged as co-creators in the literary process and not as secondary personas. There is a drive for better visibility of translators through book publicity campaigns, panel discussions, and other media. 'However, broader industry support and consistent credit across marketing, media, and events are still needed. I do think it's not enough for a few publishers and award ceremonies to promote translation literature. We need more publishing groups, more juries, and certainly, more of the mainstream media, supporting and recognising the significance of literature in translation', says Dharini Bhaskar, Associate Publisher, Literary at HarperCollins India. It helps to keep translation central to all conversations to do with books and literature. For instance, on World Book Day, Harper Collins had a full translation panel—which included Mini Krishnan, Sheela Tomy, Jayasree Kalathil, and Ministhy—and they spoke about the challenges faced by translators and the space translation literature occupies in the literary firmament. On how they bridge this gap, Ms. Bhaskar says, 'For one, we give literature in translation as much prominence as the poems and novels, and non-fiction originally published in English. Translation literature not only gets equal editorial care and attention but also has the full support of both the sales and marketing teams. We promote our works of translation—and not just when they're nominated for awards—and back translator and author equally. For they're a team. The book belongs to both of them'. Ms. Mukherjee says their publicity campaigns include the translator along with the author; this is without exception, and they will never have it any other way. She states that they make it clear at the outset to the author as well as the agent that the translator is going to be equally involved in the editing process, in planning publicity, and even on decisions pertaining to the cover of the book. Ms. Mukherjee says the translator has equal space (and equal say) on the journey of the book, both during and after its publication. Zubaan recently began a translation collaboration with Ashoka University called Women Translate Women. Every event for the books in this series has had translators present. Ms. Butalia says, 'This is also the case with many other publishers – in fact, several mainstream publishers now employ editors whose main task is to source translated manuscripts. This is a very positive development'. Are readers more willing to buy translated books? Publishers say winning the International Booker does drive sales of translated works. Though publishing houses have been increasingly taking steps to highlight the work of the translator alongside the author, the media lags in giving translators due credit. Readers, too, are increasingly open to buying translations, though Western approval still influences Indian buying habits. Ms. Bhasthi says there has been a lot of love that the translation of Heart Lamp has received, apart from the stories, and she is very grateful for that. She highlights the importance of the International Booker Prize giving equal emphasis to both the writer-translators and the writers from the original language. 'So, I think that attention is very important for translations and writer translators as well', she says. Talking about the media coverage Heart Lamp received, Ms. Bhaskar says there is immediate media coverage once a book is longlisted or shortlisted for a prestigious award, and such coverage doubles if the book wins. She adds that this kind of visibility has a direct impact on sales. 'This, in turn, has a direct impact on sales', she says. Ms. Bhaskar says they have seen sales numbers of books spiralling the moment they win prestigious awards. She notes that the ripples spread far, and that major wins typically benefit all literature coming out in a certain language. She emphasizes that such recognition also helps literature in translation overall, and sometimes even specific genres like poetry or short fiction. It also bodes well for literature in translation (as a whole), and sometimes, it bodes well for certain genres. Ms. Bhaskar points out that very often, in India, readers look for approval abroad before buying a book published locally. She stresses the need for Indian readers to start recognising the wealth of literature already available in the country—in English, in translation, and in regional languages—and to start supporting these books without necessarily waiting for validation from the West. Ms. Butalia says readers are more willing to buy translated works in general, perhaps this is because translated books are also more visible now, both in offline and in online bookshops. And they are better marketed, as books in their own right and not as poor cousins of an original. Ms. Bhasthi says that compared to other literary fiction, translated fiction is still not as widely read as it should be in a diverse country like India. She expresses hope that readers show more interest in translated fiction, and specifically mentions Kannada as one of the more under-translated languages in South India. Ms. Bhasthi says'I hope more translators bring forth some of the extraordinary works that we have in my language.'
Deccan Herald
08-06-2025
- General
- Deccan Herald
70,000 copies of 'Heart Lamp' reprinted in 2 months, says Deepa Bhasthi
Bhasthi said that permission has been given to translate the work into Malayalam, Assamese and Oriya languages and requests from other languages have been coming in too.
Deccan Herald
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Deccan Herald
CM Siddaramaiah calls Banu Mushtaq ‘bold, progressive voice for Muslim women'
Bengaluru: Chief Minister Siddaramaiah felicitated International Booker prize-winning Kannada author Banu Mushtaq and her English translator Deepa Bhasthi at a programme organised by the Kannada and Culture department on Mushtaq's translated work, 'Heart Lamp,' won the International Booker prize recently. .On the occasion, Siddaramaiah said, 'Literature has the power to bind society'..'Literature should unite, not divide us. Banu Mushtaq has brought pride to Kannada by winning the Booker Prize. This is a moment of collective pride for the entire Kannada-speaking world,' he said. .'As a bold and progressive voice for Muslim women, Banu Mushtaq has stood against orthodoxy and fulfilled the responsibility of delivering a humanistic message through her literature,' the chief minister said. .People's understanding of Kannada is incorrect, there's no language as tolerant as ours: Banu announced a Rs 10-lakh award each for Mushtaq and Bhasthi, along with government support for translating Banu Mushtaq's other works into English..A visibly moved Mushtaq said, 'Karnataka helped me grow roots, form ideas and inspired my creativity. Winning the Booker was a dream. But the encouragement I received online kept me going. This honour from the state means more to me than any award I've received.'.She emphasised Kannada's spirit of inclusivity and harmony and noted, 'No other language lives as harmoniously as Kannada'..To young writers, she said, 'Believe in your voice. This award belongs to every writer, poet, storyteller and singer in Karnataka. There are countless stories to tell — let's tell them all'..Bhasthi spoke of language as a living, evolving force..'Kannada has not been elevated by the Booker. Instead, the award has elevated the status of English and English thrives because it absorbs cultures. Let us not bend Kannada to fit English. Instead, stretch English to suit Kannada's music, tempo and accent,' she called for 'decolonisation of English,' asserting, 'No one can take away our language rights'..Bhasthi emphasised the need for continued dialogue on language, identity and translation to ensure the Booker prize recognition has lasting significance.
