Interview: Manav Kaul, author, Rooh – “I carry my home with me”

The memory of home is so interesting. I live in a fictional world because I write fiction. I am more excited by memories of home and its people than the physical place itself. When I visit the places where I grew up or the places from where I started a career in theatre, I am often disappointed because the memory of those places is so much bigger. In that sense, I carry my home with me.

While reading Rooh, I got the sense that you feel closest to your home in Kashmir when you are actually far away.

That is so because I was born in Kashmir and was forced to leave it behind at a very young age. I have vivid memories of Kashmir. There was so much going on in my head while writing Rooh – I was travelling and I had lost my father. When I write about a place and its people, I write as if I belong there. I did the same when I wrote a book about Scandinavia. Similarly, my book Shirt Ka Teesra Button is the story of a girl growing up in a small village. If you read it, you will think that I grew up in that village. This is because my memory of places is so clear that I can recreate it easily in my writing.

Who are your Literary influences? How important is reading to your creative process?

I started enjoying reading very late in my life. When I got hooked on to my favourite writers, I had started reading Nirmal Verma, Vinod Kumar Shukla, Bhavani Prasad Mishra, and Sudesh Deepak. Later, I started exploring Dostoevsky, Chinua Achebe, Sartre, Camus, Saul Bellow, and Paul Auster — the list is long. Writing is a very solitary process, and when I am writing, I want to keep my friends close to me. These writers are my friends. So I read books while I am writing or while I am travelling. I surround myself with amazing stories. It is like a diet — if you eat well, you are going to look well. For me, watching good films and reading good books and travelling are essential for my creative process.

In A Bird on My Windowsill, you write about Kafka. How has Kafka’s life and writing influenced your work?

Who here has not been influenced by Kafka? How interesting is it that a man starts a story by writing that when George Samsa woke up, he had been transformed into a big insect. An entire generation of writers has been influenced by Kafka. When I went to Prague, I was searching for both Kafka and Nirmal Verma. I travel for art. Readers and writers are global citizens. The job of an artist is to create art, to write stories that bring out an understanding of the human nature.

In Rooh, you talk about losing your home in Kashmir but you also talk about the Kashmiri Muslims that were left behind in the valley and their suffering. Can you talk more about this?

That is the beauty of Rooh – when you travel and you talk to people, you find out different sides of a story. You learn about different sides of a conflict. I wish that people would read more, then they would realise that, in the end, we are all human beings. Then they will be able to understand different points of view. It is also the job of a writer to tell a story from different points of view. At the end of the day, there is no point in creating art if you are not injecting peace into society.

Rooh is a very character-driven book. Are these characters inspired by real-life people?

There are so many interesting people that I come across. I am very lucky because I meet the finest people when I travel, as if they are characters asking to be written. While most of what I write about is fiction, many of my characters have been derived from real life.

In A Bird on My Windowsill, the reader finds messages of communal harmony, of embracing and celebrating the differences of others. What is the value of the secular in your art and in your life?

Readers and writers are global citizens. We all have to contribute towards making peace, But also, this planet is not only for human beings. There are so many animals, birds, and trees… so many living creatures. We have to make an effort to build a peaceful world. Peace is central to my art.

In Rooh, you write, “Each person born in Kashmir has a distinct relationship with Kashmir. My father’s Kashmir is definitely not my Kashmir.” What is your Kashmir?

For me, Kashmir is sheer beauty. For me, Kashmir is blue skies, white clouds, flying eagles, snow — I have written this. The interesting thing about memory is that you choose to remember things that make you happy. Even bad days become beautiful memories. People ask me about my struggle and I think even those days were beautiful because I remember everything as a story, and that is how I remember Kashmir.

You write, “The countries where people don’t understand good poetry and good music are prone to more violence”. The violence in Palestine has brought out resistance in the form of great poetry. What is the value of art in times of violence and crisis?

The violence that is happening in Palestine is gruesome. I have written a play that raises the question: How can human beings fight over space (land), how can we kill one another over it? Because we are all travellers here. Land doesn’t belong to anyone. We are all going to die, and the land is going to stay here. It may take years, but hopefully, art from Palestine will thrive, and then we will truly understand their stories. All art thrives where there is suppression. The European art scene has come out of wars because that is where stories come from. But first of all, I hope that people can live in peace in Palestine. I hope that it happens soon.

Sharmistha Jha is an independent writer and editor.

How has your idea of home changed over the years?

The memory of home is so interesting. I live in a fictional world because I write fiction. I am more excited by memories of home and its people than the physical place itself. When I visit the places where I grew up or the places from where I started a career in theatre, I am often disappointed because the memory of those places is so much bigger. In that sense, I carry my home with me.

While reading Rooh, I got the sense that you feel closest to your home in Kashmir when you are actually far away.

That is so because I was born in Kashmir and was forced to leave it behind at a very young age. I have vivid memories of Kashmir. There was so much going on in my head while writing Rooh – I was travelling and I had lost my father. When I write about a place and its people, I write as if I belong there. I did the same when I wrote a book about Scandinavia. Similarly, my book Shirt Ka Teesra Button is the story of a girl growing up in a small village. If you read it, you will think that I grew up in that village. This is because my memory of places is so clear that I can recreate it easily in my writing.

Who are your Literary influences? How important is reading to your creative process?

I started enjoying reading very late in my life. When I got hooked on to my favourite writers, I had started reading Nirmal Verma, Vinod Kumar Shukla, Bhavani Prasad Mishra, and Sudesh Deepak. Later, I started exploring Dostoevsky, Chinua Achebe, Sartre, Camus, Saul Bellow, and Paul Auster — the list is long. Writing is a very solitary process, and when I am writing, I want to keep my friends close to me. These writers are my friends. So I read books while I am writing or while I am travelling. I surround myself with amazing stories. It is like a diet — if you eat well, you are going to look well. For me, watching good films and reading good books and travelling are essential for my creative process.

In A Bird on My Windowsill, you write about Kafka. How has Kafka’s life and writing influenced your work?

Who here has not been influenced by Kafka? How interesting is it that a man starts a story by writing that when George Samsa woke up, he had been transformed into a big insect. An entire generation of writers has been influenced by Kafka. When I went to Prague, I was searching for both Kafka and Nirmal Verma. I travel for art. Readers and writers are global citizens. The job of an artist is to create art, to write stories that bring out an understanding of the human nature.

In Rooh, you talk about losing your home in Kashmir but you also talk about the Kashmiri Muslims that were left behind in the valley and their suffering. Can you talk more about this?

That is the beauty of Rooh – when you travel and you talk to people, you find out different sides of a story. You learn about different sides of a conflict. I wish that people would read more, then they would realise that, in the end, we are all human beings. Then they will be able to understand different points of view. It is also the job of a writer to tell a story from different points of view. At the end of the day, there is no point in creating art if you are not injecting peace into society.

Rooh is a very character-driven book. Are these characters inspired by real-life people?

There are so many interesting people that I come across. I am very lucky because I meet the finest people when I travel, as if they are characters asking to be written. While most of what I write about is fiction, many of my characters have been derived from real life.

In A Bird on My Windowsill, the reader finds messages of communal harmony, of embracing and celebrating the differences of others. What is the value of the secular in your art and in your life?

Readers and writers are global citizens. We all have to contribute towards making peace, But also, this planet is not only for human beings. There are so many animals, birds, and trees… so many living creatures. We have to make an effort to build a peaceful world. Peace is central to my art.

In Rooh, you write, “Each person born in Kashmir has a distinct relationship with Kashmir. My father’s Kashmir is definitely not my Kashmir.” What is your Kashmir?

For me, Kashmir is sheer beauty. For me, Kashmir is blue skies, white clouds, flying eagles, snow — I have written this. The interesting thing about memory is that you choose to remember things that make you happy. Even bad days become beautiful memories. People ask me about my struggle and I think even those days were beautiful because I remember everything as a story, and that is how I remember Kashmir.

You write, “The countries where people don’t understand good poetry and good music are prone to more violence”. The violence in Palestine has brought out resistance in the form of great poetry. What is the value of art in times of violence and crisis?

The violence that is happening in Palestine is gruesome. I have written a play that raises the question: How can human beings fight over space (land), how can we kill one another over it? Because we are all travellers here. Land doesn’t belong to anyone. We are all going to die, and the land is going to stay here. It may take years, but hopefully, art from Palestine will thrive, and then we will truly understand their stories. All art thrives where there is suppression. The European art scene has come out of wars because that is where stories come from. But first of all, I hope that people can live in peace in Palestine. I hope that it happens soon.

Sharmistha Jha is an independent writer and editor.