top of page

Books by
South Asia Speaks Fellows


In 1871, the British enacted the Criminal Tribes Act in India, branding numerous tribes and caste groups as criminals. In This Land We Call Home, Nusrat F. Jafri traces the roots of her nomadic forebears, who belonged to one such ‘criminal’ tribe, the Bhantus from Rajasthan. This affecting memoir explores religious and multicultural identities and delves into the profound concepts of nation-building and belonging. Nusrat’s family found acceptance in the church, alongside a sense of community, theology, songs and carnivals, and quality education for the children in missionary schools. More...

by Nusrat F. Jafri


Mentored by Aanchal Malhotra

The Hippo girl.png

Jhonaki's obsession with the hippos started after her parents' deaths. It was as if grief didn't want to enter her body, so it gently stepped aside and made way for obsession to settle instead.

If she wasn't playing tag with us at the abandoned, moss-ridden neel kuthi the day her parents died, she would have died too ... continue reading

by Shah Tazrian Ashrafi


Mentored by Karan Mahajan


The slope was red with bricks and blood. More bricks dropped from the sky like missiles. Once in a while, a bottle of acid or a petrol bomb made its presence felt among the variety of objects being hurled. Amid the clash of religious slogans and verbal abuses, gunshots were heard. The riot was at its zenith – and my home lay exactly in the middle of it.


Anger rose in the hearts of men flooding the streets. ‘Har har Mahadev!’ they shouted... continue reading

by Zeyad Masroor Khan


Mentored by Isaac Chotiner


Everything in front of her was blue and green, golden and bright. The air was pleasant and crisp except for the whiff of cow dung, which did not bother Anisha all that much, not as much as the cow dung itself – splattered on the road, there for the entire day until the cleaners arrived late in the evening and ... continue reading

by Atharva Pandit


Mentored by Prayaag Akbar


by Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar 

translated from English by
Suchismita Ghosh


Mentored by Arunava Sinha

Pothivelu Pandaram swayed as he got up. He steadied himself for a second by gripping the wooden frame around the bed from which the mosquito net hung. Once his dizziness passed, he groped his way along the wall to the right to fetch the matchbox he usually kept in the crescent-shaped hollow gouged into the wall, when his foot made contact with a small copper water-pot at ... continue reading

by Jeyamohan


translated from the Tamil by Suchitra Ramachandra


Mentored by Arunava Sinha

bottom of page