Interview with Ekta Kumar

Ekta Kumar

Ekta Kumar epitomizes the essence of versatility and excellence. With a background as diverse as it is impressive, she seamlessly navigates through the realms of finance, media, advocacy, and art, leaving an indelible mark in each domain.

As a qualified Chartered Accountant from the Institute of Chartered Accountants of India (ICAI) and an alumnus of the prestigious Indian Institute of Management Calcutta (IIMC), where she completed her PGDM, Ekta brings a robust academic foundation to her endeavors. However, her pursuits extend far beyond the confines of numbers and business strategies.

A prolific writer and commentator, Ekta’s insightful articles on current affairs and human rights find a home in some of India’s most esteemed publications, including The Times of India, Forbes, Outlook, The Wire, and more. Her contributions to international magazines underscore her global perspective and commitment to fostering dialogue on pressing issues.

In the dynamic world of television journalism, Ekta Kumar carved a niche for herself as a news anchor for Times Now, a leading Indian news channel. Her presence graced prime time shows such as Reuters World Report, The Morning Show, and Action City, where she skillfully dissected and analyzed unfolding events, captivating audiences with her incisive insights.

Beyond the realm of journalism, Ekta's engagement extends to advocacy and activism. As a fellow with the European Union Visitor Programme (EUVP), she collaborates on various projects aimed at promoting Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and advancing human rights campaigns. Her role as the National President for Gender Lens Investing at the Women's Indian Chamber of Commerce and Industry (WICCI) underscores her commitment to empowering women entrepreneurs and fostering gender parity in the business world.

Ekta Kumar’s creative pursuits transcend the boundaries of language, as she explores expression through visual art. Her participation in prestigious events like the Pune Biennale 2017, where her artwork was showcased alongside contributions from artists across 18 countries, speaks to her ability to communicate profound narratives through non-verbal means.

Amidst her multifaceted accomplishments, Ekta's literary talent shines bright, evident in her recognition as a longlisted author for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize in 2020 with her captivating narrative, ‘Gods Who Drown’.

In Ekta Kumar, one finds not just a professional of exceptional caliber, but a visionary whose myriad talents converge to inspire change, provoke thought, and celebrate the richness of human expression.

1. Your book, "Box of Lies," seems to blend historical fiction with elements of mystery and human drama. What inspired you to explore this particular time period in India's history, especially amidst the chaos of partition?

>The partition of our country changed millions of lives. India was going through so much change, and turmoil. Everyone was caught up in the upheaval. We have grown up with stories from those times. 1947 was a pivotal moment in Indian history, and I wanted it as the backdrop for Box of Lies. On one side the struggle for independence was reaching culmination point, people were marching and waving flags asking the British to ‘Quit India’. And on the other side, ordinary lives also continued. People fell in love, and fell out of love, they got jealous, they got angry, they had their own ambitions and desires. I wanted to bring in the untold stories - What happened, and also what might have happened.

2. The characters of Raseeli and Sitara appear to be central to your narrative. Could you share a bit about their development and what drew you to their stories?

>Female desires are complicated things. Male desire is familiar territory, it is acceptable in many ways and easier to understand. But when it comes to women, the complexities are fascinating. Ordinary women are transformed by envy, anger, love, greed in ways that are often unimaginable.

With Sitara and Raseeli, I got a chance to explore two very different people. Raseeli is bold, ambitious, and unapologetically selfish. She is aware of her sexuality and uses it without shame or fear. Sitara is more conventional, but she is also clever. She cries, sulks, stamps her feet and plots to have things go her way. One is submissive, the other is not, and yet both of them know what they want, and are determined to find it.

3. The themes of greed, lust, and madness are woven throughout your book. How did you approach portraying these complex emotions and experiences within the context of your characters' lives?

>You call them complex emotions, but for me they are the most simple and basic ones. We all want more. And I’d like to think we are all tinged with a bit of madness. It makes us a very interesting species.

I am not sure how to answer your question, so let me use some quotes from Box of Lies, just to give you an idea -

The lure of money:

“My shine never fades. Hundreds of years pass, I smell the same”

Lovers:

“Love dissipates quickly. For who can bear too much of another. I finally have her. But I don’t really want her.”

Madness:

“What is real, what is not. Who can tell. We inhabit different worlds.”

4. Your background in finance and business is quite distinct from your work as an author. How, if at all, does your professional experience influence your writing?

>I hope it doesn’t. Finance and business, as I am sure you would agree are both fairly boring kind of areas. The balance sheet tends to always tally. It’s no fun. My writing is drawn from people, not industry. We are fascinating creatures. I write what I see around me, and then fill in the gaps with imagination.

5. As a fellow with the European Union Visitor Programme and the National President for Gender Lens Investing at WICCI, you're deeply involved in initiatives promoting human rights and gender equality. How do these aspects of your life intersect with your writing, if at all?

>This is an interesting question. My stint as a journalist, and roles you mentioned gave me a chance to interact with lots and lots of women from all over - Different countries, different mindsets, different cultures. For example - women in EU want equal pay, and women in India are just struggling to get paid. I remember a two hour chat with a woman from Mumbai that revolved only around the absence of water, and how that ruled her life, and I also had another long conversation the very next day with a seventy six year old woman in Iceland on the lack of sex for senior women, and how she and her friends are organizing a self help group around it.

I have been incredibly lucky to meet so many surprising ladies, with such different perspectives and priorities. I hope many of them creep into my stories too.

6.   Your short story, "Gods Who Drown," was longlisted for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize in 2020. How does your approach to short fiction differ from that of novel-length works?

>How should I say it. Short stories are like short lived love affairs. They don’t ask for much, they don’t take much. You just tell the story without worrying about stitching it together. A novel needs commitment, love and hate and sometimes, even your blood.

The short format sets us free. There are no rules, we can go to many places with it and choose to write on so many different themes. A novel kind of traps you in. However, short or long, what they have in common is that they both bring much joy, and much pain.

7. Beyond your written work, you're also an artist, exploring non-verbal modes of expression. How does your artistic practice inform or complement your writing process?

>I don’t really see them as two different things. Logically they are of course distinct mediums. But when I am painting or writing, I connect to myself in a way that feels the same. What I am trying to say is often similar. What I am trying not to say is also the same for both.

8. The setting of an old haveli and the discovery of skeletal remains in an abandoned well evoke a sense of mystery and intrigue. How did you go about researching and crafting the atmosphere of your story?

>Ah, this was the fun part. There is just something about old havelis that draw out the djinns and the ghosts. A lot of my childhood was spent in quiet places, too much time staring at old carpets, and cloudy mountains. 

The partition era has a lot of material. I looked up books, films, documentaries, so many old forgotten photographs. I also spoke to many people, about the ordinary days back then. All of it helped set the social, cultural and political context. I did research for the historical setting, but not so much for the mystery. That is mostly left unsaid.

9. Given the themes of alienation and searching for answers present in your book, do you see any parallels between the struggles of your characters and contemporary issues facing society today?

>Absolutely yes. Humans have a basic desire to understand each other, connect and belong to one another. It has always been like that for us, for thousands of years. And yet, we feel alone, disconnected and fragmented. This is also true. Which is why the theme of alienation keeps coming back in art, philosophy and literature, across the ages.

 My characters are lonely, they are grappling with doubt and fear, they are fighting expectations, and trying to find their place in a rapidly changing world. They desperately want to belong, and yet feel isolated and alone.

These ‘issues’ are not bound by time. For what is true for them, is real for us in modern times too.

10. Finally, what do you hope readers take away from "Box of Lies," and what do you hope it adds to the literary landscape, particularly regarding narratives from India's past?

>As artists, we create things and then set it free, put it out into the world. After which it no longer belongs to us. Box of Lies will travel and go to unknown hands, who will pick and choose what they want to see or hear. It really is up to the reader to decide, it is not mine anymore.

As far as the past goes, I think historical fictions are important because they help keep memories alive. We tend to forget. It is easier to remember via stories. Data is dead, emotionally. If I gave you the figure for literacy rate in India, you might forget. But if I told you a life story about the transformative power of education, you will remember. Which is why historical fiction is important.

In many of my interviews I have spoken about the courtesans of India, and their subsequent marginalisation in history. But they were spectacular women who left behind a huge cultural legacy, and had such a big impact on society and the arts. How do we know about them, remember them and appreciate them, if there are no stories.