Process Talk: India’s History Through the Lens of After Midnight by Meghaa Gupta
We are all aftermath to the people who went before us, whether we knew them or not, whether they could even imagine us, whatever they might think of us and what we have become. We create for ourselves the story of who they were, and with our lives we write the next chapter. And because we’re in the middle of present-day events, we can’t see how they will build into history.
That is why, in the context of August 15, 2024, India’s 77th Independence Day, we take a longer view of India’s history through the lens of Meghaa Gupta’s nonfiction book, After Midnight: A History of Independent India (Puffin India, 2022) in which she seeks to “contextualize the challenges of the present with the past and make greater sense of the times we live in.”
I asked Meghaa how a book about the past can shed light on the present. Here’s our e-mail exchange:
[Uma] In the wake of an election that some see as a course correction, and in light of competing visions for what India is and should be, what’s the special relevance of a post independence history book for young readers?
[Meghaa] Public memory tends to be short and in an age with information overload and constant distraction, it has become shorter still. So what people, and by extension children, tend to notice is just the news of the season, forgetting that most of these “current affairs,” just like stories of past rulers and empires, also have historical context. Many of them have either emerged or been compounded in the years since independence with the violent partition along communal lines, the creation of “nationhood,” which has been particularly fraught in India, with its mind-boggling diversity, the decision to be a non-aligned democracy, the development models adopted by the country etc.
Meghaa speaks to young readers
Photo © Chanchal/Amity International School, Gurugram, India
Without this context, children will miss out on the relevance of events unfolding around them. For example, if we talk about the outcome of the recent election - the fact that the BJP lost its majority is just the tip of the iceberg. Lying within it are several historical questions worth pondering, such as the trajectory of democracy since the first elections held in 1951, the emergence of the BJP, the overall political experience under coalition governments etc. Without a basic sense of this, young readers may not be in a position to appreciate what the election verdict implies.
Unfortunately, as the acclaimed educator Krishna Kumar has noted, for most Indian children, “history” — as it's conventionally understood — freezes on 15 August 1947. What happened thereafter trickles down in scattered snippets through subjects like civics, political science and economics, the news media, social media etc. Post-independence history books help to fill this gaping hole and provide much needed context to these issues children confront in the news, hear about from adults around them or witness themselves. In polarised times plagued by the menace of fake news, such books become even more vital.
“I am not promising the readers that all will be well. Neither am I saying that all has been well and let’s all celebrate. Instead, with profound respect for the agency and vulnerability of my readers, I am telling them - this is what has played out, essentially. Take what you must from it and make sense of the commotion around you. ”
[Uma] Can you talk a little bit about the process of creating this book? You can speak to research, if you like, and voice, because both stand out here. I’m also really interested in hearing how you managed to distill such an enormous amount of material into a book under 300 pages.
[Meghaa] Writing about post-independence India isn't easy. Many issues, such as the debates around secularism and democracy, are constantly evolving. So, what I try to do is locate the historical triggers and dwell upon these. Sometimes, as I write about certain issues, I'm troubled by what's going on in the news. Even as an adult, I worry about what particular developments might mean for me. It's easy to weave such anxieties into the text. But I work extremely hard to stop my own politics or opinions from colouring the text. For example, when talking about the political dimensions of certain issues, I try to use 'the”government” instead of naming parties, unless mandatory. Getting fact checks and sensitivity reads has also been very useful, in this regard.
Photo © Shyam Madhavan Sarada/ Greystroke
Having said that, reading history can also be a source of comfort. People have lived through all kinds of dreadful times and misery — and survived to tell the tale. This is the overarching narrative voice I have chosen for these books — one rooted in truth and resilience, that invites young readers to understand history in an engaging and accessible manner, think more deeply about issues, ask more questions and form their own opinions.
Starting with this firm note to self, I flesh out a careful, detailed outline drawn after consulting multiple accredited sources and people. This outline gives me a broad idea of the history I am narrating, avoids unnecessary repetitions and helps with the length. In fact, my contract with the publisher begins only after a rough outline has been crafted and we have a fair idea of the maximum word count. My background in children's publishing and years of reading, editing and promoting this literature have proved very handy in putting together these books.
[Uma] You bring clarity in your book to those “trigger” events. I noticed that you expand on some highly charged moments or issues through sidebars--I’m thinking of topics like the accession of princely states after Independence, definitions of lines of control, or AFSPA reported human rights violations. You’ve picked your words carefully. Can you talk about making rhetorical choices in those or other instances that stood out to you?
[Meghaa] After I chart out a detailed outline for each chapter, I look at things that happened at the time that are vital to the history and merit attention, but may not fit seamlessly into the story and cannot be turned into a separate chapter. These bits go into sidebars. For example, in the chapter on the Emergency, I have included a sidebar on the Mandal Commission formed by the Janata government that came to power in the elections held after Indira Gandhi lifted the Emergency. The recommendations of the commission complicated caste divides when they were implemented in 1990.
Sometimes, sidebars are a way of breaking up the text and drawing special attention to certain stories within the broader narrative. For example, in the accession of the princely states, I have turned some of the colourful “problem stories” headlined by interesting characters, such as the dog-loving Nawab of Junagadh, into sidebars. Similarly, the sidebar on human rights violations under AFSPA brings attention to the Manipuri activist Irom Sharmila.
Finally, some sidebars have also served to highlight bits of trivia that may not be central to the story, but would interest readers. For example, in After Midnight I have sidebars on personal stories of Indians caught up in the tide of the times, and what this meant for them. Or, for example, I have a sidebar on “Anger onscreen” during the 1970s, epitomised by Amitabh Bachhan and his roles portraying “the angry young man” of the times.
[Uma] What if any material did you have to jettison?
[Meghaa] I would have liked to include more on sports and films, but it was just not possible. The book would have gone on endlessly!
[Uma] Oh yes, I know that feeling when you have to rein yourself in and find an ending point. I wonder, what do you hope young readers will take away from After Midnight?
[Meghaa] After Midnight is the second book in a unique series chronicling the sweeping developments that have shaped independent India. The first book in this series, Unearthed, was on the environmental history of free India. Through these books I want to help young readers find greater meaning behind the events unfolding around them, in the hope that they are able to look past majoritarian view points and form their own objective, informed opinions.
I am not promising the readers that all will be well. Neither am I saying that all has been well and let's all celebrate. Instead, with profound respect for the agency and vulnerability of my readers, I am telling them: this is what has played out, essentially. Take what you must, from it and make sense of the commotion around you.
[Uma] Meghaa, that hits the spot that all of us who write for children find ourselves in, in a world that is changing very fast and in which all is not well. How do we give readers a path forward through looking back when we can’t see it ourselves, going forward?
[Meghaa] I include a short personal introduction that weaves in my own thoughts and feelings. But that's it. Thereafter, I submerge myself in history as it played out. In doing this, I hope to replace any anxiety that my readers might be experiencing, with comprehension - which is far more empowering.
[Uma] So you’re saying, do the work. Stay on topic. Trust your reader. That’s not only helpful to writers but also humane advice, and curiously moving. Only when we acknowledge our limitations do we foster agency in our readers. Thank you for this exchange. I’ve learned a lot.
