On women-centric narratives in India today: themes, subjects, style, modes
Ms. Atreya, all your brilliant stories speak for narratives from roots of India, explore female characters who are looking for something substantial, more than just bare living with their respective circumstances. Following this chain of thought we like to ask your opinions on women centric narratives in India and where does the present current flow for narratives which are vocalizing female narratives by female authors in India, in terms of themes, subjects, style and modes?
Thank you for that generous framing. I think the most exciting thing about women-centric narratives in India today is that they’re finally expanding beyond the trauma plot. While stories of suffering and survival are still important, we’re now seeing more nuance—stories of ambition, quiet resistance, intergenerational tension, and even joy.
What’s powerful is the range: from regional voices rooted in local dialects to urban voices confronting patriarchy in corporate boardrooms.
In terms of how these stories are being told, I see a refreshing boldness. Writers are letting go of conventional structures and embracing what best serves the story—whether that means nonlinear timelines, intimate first-person accounts, or hybrid formats that blur memoir and fiction. There’s also room now for silence, for ambiguity, for emotional restraint—things that were once considered too subtle or “unmarketable.”
And as for modes—definitely more digital. Women are self-publishing, serializing stories online, running Kickstarter campaigns, and experimenting with formats like audiobooks. I’m currently working on narrating mine using a voice-clone trained on my own speech.
There’s a real hunger for authenticity, not polish. The more unapologetically rooted the story is, the more universally it seems to resonate.
On the ‘rites of passage’ of publishing regional/women’s stories & market bias
As one of the burgeoning authors of the present age, may we ask you about the ‘rites of passage’ of a woman who is bringing forth regional stories, women’s stories in a market driven world, how difficult it gets to publish your initial works and do you feel yourself undermined by any subjective biases of market forces?
Let me start by saying: publishing your first book is a rite of passage for anyone—but for women writing regional stories, it can feel like a double initiation. There’s the obvious commercial pressure: Will this sell? Is it “relatable”? Which is often code for: can it appeal to a Western gaze or an urban Indian one?
When I wrote my debut novel, Tell A Thousand Lies, it was set in rural Andhra Pradesh, with a dark-skinned teenage girl at the center. I was told, “It’s too regional. Too political. Too feminist.” Which, frankly, felt like a compliment.
So yes, market forces can feel like a narrowing funnel—unless you find a way to bypass them. That’s why I turned to self-publishing. It gave me control, and more importantly, it gave the story a chance to find its own audience. And when it did, the reception told me I wasn’t alone. I was just early.
On writing tradition vs modernity & navigating cultural digitalization
Your stories visualize rural India, breath traditions and seek new life, almost like an established trope of tradition vs modern. But it is not this simple and nuances of different social settings add richness to the discourse. Same goes for a creator who is not writing in a void, there are various factors at play, like language, regions, demography, social history and culture. Adding to this is rising cultural digitalization. Please tell us how as an author you are dealing with this change and movement.
This is such a rich question because yes, at first glance my work does look like it’s engaging the tradition vs modernity binary—but what I really try to explore is how those two things coexist. A character can bow to tradition and still wonder why widowhood comes with exile. That’s not contradiction—it’s complexity.
Language, region, history, and class—these deeply shape how a character lives and loves. And as a writer, I’m always aware that I’m not working in a vacuum. I’m translating an emotional truth across layers of cultural context.
Now, add digitalization to the mix, and things get even more layered. The digital space allows for reach—but it also demands constant adaptation. I’ve gone from attending village storytelling festivals, to uploading audiobooks narrated by AI in my own voice.
Digital tools are how I build bridges between the old and the new. But the key, I think, is not letting the tools dictate the story. The story comes first. Always.