Heart Lamp Review

Published on 7/27/2025

Heart Lamp Review
Image credit: X/@sorcerical via The Wire

As soon as I read the news that an Indian author, Banu Mushtaq, had not only won but also set a record for being the first author of a short story collection to bag the Booker Prize in 2025, I knew that I wanted to read her work. I had no idea who she was or what she wrote about. In fact, I was surprised to find out that she was a Kannada author whose work’s translation, done by Deepa Bhasthi, had been bestowed with one of the greatest recognitions in English literature. To address my ignorance and read a book that was being praised all over the world, I bought a copy of Heart Lamp. I decided to go in blind with this read. I wanted to test the efficacy of the author’s work without having any prior context myself.

Heart Lamp is a collection of 12 stories that have been picked from among Banu Mushtaq’s six story collections that were published previously. This anthology of 12 tales revolves around the hardships and struggles faced by the women in the Muslim community in southern India. While some of the troubles that these women face are unique to their culture and situation, there are a few issues that have a more universal presence.

One of the things that really caught my attention in this book is the underlying rage that welled up in certain stories and created an intense atmosphere around me. Banu Mushtaq, a writer, activist and lawyer, has faced some terrible and menacing situations in her own life. It feels that she heavily draws from these experiences and pulls out the feeling of real rage against the injustice faced by women from her community.

There were 4 stories that really stood out to me in the entire collection, and they are:

  1. Fire Rain
  2. Black Cobras
  3. The Shroud
  4. A Taste of Heaven

Following is a short summary of all 12 stories and what I liked and disliked about them.

Like many other readers, I too felt that most of these stories had a repeating theme. Quite a few stories didn’t really strike a chord with me. In fact, when the first story did not appeal to me, I felt that maybe I should’ve done a background check before diving into this book. Now, I am willing to admit that a few of these issues can stem from my ignorance of the ground-level issues, my inability to put myself in the shoes of the troubled, my position of privilege, and maybe even a certain lack of maturity.

However, what I am not willing to admit is that the usage of a certain flavour of Indian English was beneficial to this book. It just wasn’t! While some readers cannot stop praising the Indian English used in this book, I am of the exact opposite opinion. I believe that rather than providing the readers an authentic and unadulterated experience of the source work, it turned out to be an unappealing version, which was a hit and a miss. It was easy to read, but it wasn’t much fun. And I cannot even begin to imagine the efforts the westerners might have to put in to understand the cultural context along with this type of language. I’m not against the usage of Indian English, not at all; in fact, I love it when authors like Salman Rushdie use it to enhance the structure of sentences and provide a certain depth to their storytelling.

The book delved into and dealt with themes like the systemic oppression of women, the ill effects of patriarchy and religious extremism, gender and income inequality, societal pressures, emotional turbulences, depression and paralysis in the face of an uncertain future and an undeniable past.

Overall, I believe that Banu Mushtaq’s 12-story collection was an average read. I would recommend it to people who would want to understand the trials and tribulations faced by a certain section of women in India. But to anyone coming in with the intention of reading a classical literary work, I would ask you not to get your hopes up with this one.