Srinivas Reddy in Conversation with Jhilam Chattaraj

“Translation is a fine balance between the literal and the literary”

Illuminating Worlds: An Anthology of Classical Indian Literature, translated and introduced by Scrinivas Reddy (Bloomsbury Publishing, 2024)

In recent years, Indian fiction translated into English has captured international attention. Gitanjali Shree’s Ret Samadhi, brought to English readers as Tomb of Sand by Daisy Rockwell, and Banu Mushtaq’s Heart Lamp, originally penned in Kannada and translated by Deepa Bhasthi, have both won the International Booker Prize, 2022 and 2025, respectively. While this surge might seem like a fresh chapter in India’s literary scene—an emergence from colonial language politics—the interplay between Indian languages and their translations into others, beyond just English, creates a far more complex scenario.

Srinivas Reddy, a scholar, translator, poet, and musician, argues that translation has always thrived within India’s multilingual landscape. More than the international accolades, Reddy is fascinated by the translation of Indian texts by Kalidasa or Kapilar’s work into possibly Tulu or Marathi, thus highlighting the vibrant, ongoing dialogue among Indian languages.

My first encounter with translation dates back to childhood. Every year, in my small Bengal township’s annual book fair, Baba would buy us Bengali versions of Charles Dickens, R.L. Stevenson, and Edgar Allan Poe—English classics reimagined to captivate the young readers of that era. When I met Reddy on the quiet January evening at the Hyderabad Literary Festival 2025, those memories stirred vividly once again.

The first day’s events had wrapped up, and the buzz of conversations was settling into a more relaxed rhythm. Contrary to the stereotype of Sanskrit scholars as serious and reserved, Reddy was lively and approachable. His deep, resonant voice carried a mix of humour and warmth as he chatted animatedly in a nearby café, easily becoming the most vibrant person in the room.

During our conversation, we delved into his latest work, Illuminating Worlds: An Anthology of Classical Indian Literature (Bloomsbury, 2024), his childhood experiences, and his enduring passion for learning. Reddy also shared his thoughts on the ongoing relevance of Sanskrit, not just as a classical language but as a living art form that continues to shape Indian aesthetics and culture today.

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Jhilam Chattaraj (JC): Congratulations on your new book, Illuminated Worlds! When and how did you become interested in Sanskrit Literature? 

Srinivas Reddy (SR): Thank you. I first became interested in Sanskrit literature when one lazy summer in high school, my grandfather read the Bhagavad Gita with us. I was fascinated with the philosophy, but more than that, I was enamoured by the language. I wondered if I could learn this beautiful script and the hidden meanings within it. That summer, my grandfather gave me my very first Sanskrit lessons, and I was hooked. Illuminating Worlds has a lot of Sanskrit literature indeed, but it also includes selections from Tamil and various Prakrits, the other classical Indian literatures that were in conversation with the great Sanskrit tradition.

JC: You were raised in the US, and now you are in India. Tell us a little about your life.

SR: I was born in India, raised and educated in Canada and the US, and now I live and work in India. When you’re a kid growing up, you just want to fit in and be like everyone else, and I was very much a typical American teenager who loved the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, played guitar and ate pizza. As I grew older and spent more time in India as an adult, I became more connected to my Indian roots…I fell in love with ragas and the music of Pt. Nikhil Banerjee. I started studying Sanskrit and sitar, and moved back here for my first job.

JC: In the context of your hyphenated routines, could we understand the book as a diasporic longing for ‘roots’? Or an attempt to ‘decolonise’ literature?

SR: Illuminating Worlds is a book that highlights and makes accessible (to an English reader at least) the rich and diverse roots of classical Indian literature. In that way, I think it’s a book for anyone interested in the foundations of Indian culture, for Indians everywhere and curious people from anywhere. I’m not sure what decolonial literature is, but I do feel that a lot of my academic work positions itself to decolonise the dominant Western-centric readings of Indian literature. India is home to some of the world’s richest theories of literary criticism and aesthetic analysis. Wouldn’t it be nice to read Indian literature through the eyes of Dandin and Abhinavagupta rather than only Adorno and Derrida?

JC: That would be refreshing. In these turbulent times of war, terror attacks, and climate disasters, your book begins with Ashoka’s words—a timely call for peace and tolerance.

SR: I chose this inscription to start the book because the Ashokan rock edicts are the oldest writings of India. More importantly, the message of Edict XII is a powerful statement about religious tolerance, and more so, an exhortation to celebrate our cultural plurality. Ashoka proclaimed this vision over two millennia ago, and yet the words ring even more true today. India is, and always will be, I believe, one of the most diverse parts of the world, culturally, religiously, linguistically, etc. And the key to our way forward into the future may indeed lie in our past.

“Spiritual growth comes in many forms, but the foundation must be tolerance, for one’s own religion should not be praised, nor should another religion be condemned or treated lightly”

                                                                                                                   Rock Edict XII

                     256 BC

JC: I appreciate the ‘fusion-approach’ of the book— it is academic yet accessible to the common reader. Was this a conscious decision?

SR:  Most definitely! I want to talk about serious, important issues, but I want to write about them in a way that is accessible to a large general audience. After I submitted my first draft, my editor would often write things like, “simplify…too academic”. University training moulds one into a peculiar writing style that is often prolix, opaque, and jargonised…or in other words, long-winded and unnecessarily hard to understand. I wanted to write this book so that any English reading person could have direct access to this incredible literature in fresh, poetic translations accompanied by informative and readable introductory materials.

JC: The book carries immense light and hope—even in translation, one can feel the profundity of Sanskrit (classical Indian literature).  What is your process?

SR: That’s a big question! Every text is different and each requires a sensitive reading, but in general, my process for translating classical literature (most often in verse) is to first read the originals many times over and clearly understand their semantic structure through the help of various indigenous commentaries. Then I think about the sonic quality of each verse, the rhythms and assonances, and try to convey that into judicious English verse. Like in all translating, one has to strike that fine balance between the literal and the literary; the what and the how of a poet’s creation.

“The moon is in the water, the bright-rayed sun

Courses through the sky;

They cannot find your path, O golden-tipped lightning.

Know this of me, O heaven and earth!”

I.105, ‘Hymn to All Gods,’ p.24

JC: Can a poet’s creative vision stand alone, or do international and national awards play a role in sparking a writer’s interest in translation?

SR: I don’t know much about awards, but I think translation has always been booming in India, even from ancient times, specifically because it’s always been such a multilingual culture. Perhaps English translations of Indian literatures are on the rise now because of the power and growth of an English readership, but I’m curious to know how translations into Indian vernaculars are faring. Are writers today translating Kalidasa’s work into Tulu or Kapilar into Marathi? Perhaps they are using English as a link language? The predominance of English language translations has certainly opened a lot of Indian literature to a global audience, but it may also have stunted access to that same literature for various Indian language readers.

JC: I get what you mean—although I can read Hindi, I find myself drawn to the English version of the text, and that adds a new layer of complexity.

SR: Exactly!

JC: I’m not certain about the exact readership numbers, but there has been a significant amount of translation between Indian languages. Your words reminded me of a talk delivered by the renowned Indian writer and translator Nabanita Dev Sen in Hyderabad. She shared her delight at finding shelves filled with works by the Bengali novelist Sarath Chandra Chatterjee translated into Telugu—and how endearing it was to know that the Telugu readers affectionately called him Sarath Babu.

Translation always makes me think about diversity, and that’s how I see you — as someone with a mix of talents. You’re a Sitar player, an academic, a researcher, and a poet. Do you identify with all of those, or do you lean more towards one?

SR: I am certainly all of these at once, I can’t be any other way. It’s been a happy challenge to juggle and balance these professional activities, and at any given point in my life, one calling may take precedence, but one thing is for sure…they all inform and enrich each other. Music drives my poetry, translation inspires my scholarly work, and my academic research deepens my artistic life. I like to think of myself as the ancient Kavis of India who were often musicians, scholars and poets all wrapped into one.

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Srinivas Reddy is a scholar, translator and classical sitarist. He has published five books including Raya: Krishnadevaraya of Vijayanagara (Juggernaut 2020) and Illuminating Worlds: An Anthology of Classical Indian Literature (Bloomsbury 2024). He is currently on a Fulbright-Nehru fellowship at IIT Gandhinagar.

Jhilam Chattaraj is an academic, critic and poet. She teaches at the Department of English and Foreign languages, RBVRR Women’s College, Hyderabad. She has authored the books: Sudeep Sen: Reading, Writing, Teaching, Noise Cancellation (2021), Corporate Fiction: Popular Culture and the New Writers (2018), and When Lovers Leave and Poetry Stays (2018). Her works have been published in Michigan Quarterly Review, Mekong Review, Ecocene, New Contrast Magazine, One Art Poetry Journal, Calyx, Ariel, Room, Porridge, Queen Mob’s Tea House, Colorado Review, World Literature Today and Asian Cha among others. She received the CTI Excellence Award in ‘Literature and Soft Skills Development’ (2019), from the Council for Transforming India and the Department of Language and Culture, Government of Telangana, India. Her poem, ‘Sari’ was nominated for the Nina Riggs Poetry Award (2023). 

Copy editor: Nancy He