It's been a long road with the translation, from October 2020 when the process began, to now. Publishers and writers have to be persevering and patient individuals. I'm very grateful to Qin Yang, Literary Editor at Horizon Books, who came across the book during an event I did at the Jaipur Literature Festival, decided to read it, then championed its cause and convinced Horizon to take it on. She and translator Tan Xueran took infinite care of the work, getting in touch about tiny details and nuances of language. Orhan Pamuk, Peter Handke and Louise Glück were published at Horizon long before they were awarded their Nobels, Qin had told me at the start. I'm very happy to be in their company in the Horizon list and hope some of the gold dust from the greats falls on this book.
Once a week around midday, Maulvi Sah’b would come in through the gates of our school in Hyderabad and class would divide briskly into two and troop off to different parts of the building. Those who were Muslim would be at religious instruction classes with him for the next half hour while the others trudged through moral science lessons. Something similar happened during language classes. We would hear a singsong chorus of “A-salaam-aleikum, Aunty”, from the Urdu classroom as we sat at our Sanskrit or Telugu lessons. Through my nomadic childhood, I’ve been at many schools. None exemplified the idea of secular India as intensely as this Muslim school in Hyderabad. Begum Anees Khan, who made it so, died in Hyderabad on August 16. Her passing feels symbolic, as if it signifies the death of a quixotic idea. Anees Khan was not given to seeking the limelight or making speeches. She never spelled out her secularism. It was instinctive: instead of words, there was action. Stud