Alka Joshi
I have my mother to thank for my first novel. When I was fifteen, my mother and I went shopping for school clothes. We’d been living in the States—in the Midwest—for six years by then, but she still wore saris. As we passed the dresses, she plucked one with a plunging halter top off the rack and asked me try it on. An American girl might have thought her mother hip, but I was embarrassed. For my sixteenth birthday, my mother made an appointment at Merle Norman Cosmetics so I could learn to wear makeup, something she knew nothing about but felt I needed to learn. At eighteen, when I told her I wanted to sleep with my first boyfriend, she immediately took me to get birth control pills and urged me to experiment—she, who had had an arranged marriage at the age of 18 and still stumbled over her English.
It took me years to understand that what my mother wanted was a life for me that she herself had been denied. She wanted me to experience the freedom of choice. At some point, I began imagining a different start to my mother’s life. What if her father hadn’t made her marry at such a tender age? What if she hadn’t had three children in rapid succession? What would a creative, fierce, smart woman like her have done to survive on her own if she had defied her father and refused to marry?
Lakshmi, the henna artist, embodies the alternative life I imagined for my mother. The frenetic period following India’s independence from the British, when India was building new universities, government and cultural institutions, and roads, dams and bridges at an unprecedented rate, was an ideal setting for Lakshmi to start a new life for herself. Like my mother, Lakshmi wanted to make her own decisions about what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be with and where she went. She rejected convention even when she knew the cost would be steep, not only for her but also for her family.
It took me years to understand that what my mother wanted was a life for me that she herself had been denied. She wanted me to experience the freedom of choice. At some point, I began imagining a different start to my mother’s life. What if her father hadn’t made her marry at such a tender age? What if she hadn’t had three children in rapid succession? What would a creative, fierce, smart woman like her have done to survive on her own if she had defied her father and refused to marry?
Lakshmi, the henna artist, embodies the alternative life I imagined for my mother. The frenetic period following India’s independence from the British, when India was building new universities, government and cultural institutions, and roads, dams and bridges at an unprecedented rate, was an ideal setting for Lakshmi to start a new life for herself. Like my mother, Lakshmi wanted to make her own decisions about what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be with and where she went. She rejected convention even when she knew the cost would be steep, not only for her but also for her family.
More Answered Questions
Sunita Mathur
asked
Alka Joshi:
Hi Alka! I was delighted to read The Henna Artist a few days ago, read it cover to cover in one day. It was poignant and stirred up many memories of Jaipur life where I'm originally from. You've drawn the characters so well that I felt that I personally knew all the characters in the book. I'm eagerly looking forward to reading the sequel now; will your other 2 books also portray Indian life?
Alia G
asked
Alka Joshi:
Hi!! I totally loved the Henna Artist a little while ago (the characters depth and relationships were the best part!!). The book made me really curious about some of the foods you wrote about, so the recipes at the back made everything better!! Speaking of the recipes, here's my question: Are those your family/your recipes in the back of the novel? Thank you so much and have a great day!! Alia🩵
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