A new writer has arrived – and the vultures of the market have woken up
With the emergence of new female writers, the way their body, age, and smile are traded in the literary markets instead of their creativity is a deep and shameful truth. Stage, criticism, role, respect – everything becomes a trap. This editorial shows the mirror to the hypocritical system running in the name of women’s writing, where the writer’s ‘presence’ sells more than her pen. Now, the time has come for the literary world to recognize this internal exploitation and muster the courage to change it.
As soon as a new writer enters the literary arena, a festive atmosphere is created. She has come with a pen – to give life to words, to share experiences, and to give voice to feelings. But is the power of words alone enough to survive in this world?
No. In this market, one looks at one’s face before one’s writing. One asks about one’s age before one’s book. One’s speech and smile are discussed before one’s thoughts. And unfortunately, this is the point where the dark truth of the literary field emerges.
Even today, in all the literary forums, seminars, and magazines of the country, a female writer is considered more of a ‘beauty’ than a ‘creator’. The words of praise of the seniors contain more ‘hints’ than appreciation. The call on the stage is not only for reciting poetry, but it is a cunning attempt to cash in on that ‘youthful’ energy.
Many say, “You write very well.” But many of them have saliva in their eyes, not words. In the parties after the seminar, the body is evaluated, not poetry. And the writer who says ‘no’ to all this is called ‘arrogant’, ‘uncooperative’, and ‘rude’.
This market of literature has become the graveyard of that intellectual freedom, which many women dream of when they take up their pens. New writers get silence, not a platform. They get doubts, not support. There is an attempt to find the intention behind every word of hers – “For whom did you write?”, “On whose advice?”, “With what intention?”
This is the same society that, on one hand, writes columns in newspapers on the ‘Me Too’ movement, and on the other hand, is ready to call young female writers in isolation at literary conferences and give them “personal guidance”.
This mindset has not only crushed new talents but has also shattered women’s faith in literature. Those who were supposed to make the world of writing their home find the doors closed for them – if they do not ‘compromise’.
History is witness to this – writers like Amrita Pritam, Mahadevi Varma, Mannu Bhandari, Mrinal Pandey, Vandana Raga not only used their pens but also wrote against the patriarchy that had made its home in the literary world. They watered this path with struggles and left a consciousness for the coming generations.
But the question remains – why, even today, does a new female writer have to stay silent or fight to protect her dignity? Why does ‘women’s writing’ remain an ‘easy target’ for senior male writers?
Many times, attempts are made to mould the writing style of a female writer according to the male norms. “Write less aggressively, be more sensitive, romantic poems are appreciated more” – these are the advice of the ‘gurus’ who teach new names. But the truth is that this is not a demand for ‘conformity’, but ‘persuasion’.
There is another aspect to this – when a female writer becomes successful, the credit for her success is given to her ‘male mentor’. As if her talent was not her own, but was acquired through someone’s ‘contacts’ and ‘patronage’.
And when she denies these things, it is not her poems that are reviewed, but her character. This double standard has become the backbone of this market.
Now there is a need to question this system.
Now there is a need for every new writer to write in her poem, “I am not a rose that has bloomed just to decorate – I am that thorn that will tear apart your intentions.”
Writers need to be each other’s voice. More than sharing a stage, they need to share a space — where they listen to each other, support each other, and never leave anyone alone.
Publishers, editors, organisers – now there is a warning for you too. If you do not clean up your policies, these pens will write your name not with ink but with fire.
This market, which was once a market of ideas, has today become a bazaar – where ‘female presence’ is sold, not ‘writing’.
But this market too will collapse one day, when every writer will overcome her inner fear and will demand not just poetry but her rights on the stage.
> “My words do not come from my lips, but from my soul – and you have trampled upon my soul, so this pen will not remain silent now.”
