India, May 10 -- Writer, activist and lawyer Banu Mushtaq's short-story collection Heart Lamp, masterfully translated by Deepa Bhasthi from Kannada into English, brings together 12 stories set in Muslim households in south India - a world familiar to Mushtaq, who has spent most of her life in Hassan, Karnataka. The opening story, Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal, leaves no doubt as to why Mushtaq's fiction has annoyed some within her community, particularly clerics. As a self-identified feminist, she speaks loudly and clearly against patriarchy. Her narrator, Zeenat, says, ".for us Muslims, it is said that, other than Allah above, our pati is our God on earth." Zeenat baulks at the idea. She is not keen to give her husband, Mujahid, "such elevated status". The theme of women's labour is explored in Red Lungi, which looks at "the woes mothers face come summer vacation". Razia is tired of the ruckus created by the 18 children in her house. Six of these are hers; the others are sons and daughters of her visiting brothers-in-law and younger sister. The noise of their complaining, screaming and crying gives Razia a constant headache. The author explores how suppressed rage can turn into violence. Razia not only hits the children but comes up with an unusual plan to deal with this summer of pain: ".in the end, she decided that she'd have to engineer bed rest for some of them somehow. Circumcisions, she decided. She would get khatna done." Of the 18 children, 10 are boys. Six of these are eligible for circumcision; the other four are too young. Several metres of red cloth are bought, to make lungis for the boys. Noticing a large quantity of leftover cloth, Razia and her husband Latif make arrangements for a mass circumcision, inviting boys from poor families whose parents do not have the money to have the procedure done. One of these is Razia's cook Amina's son Arif. The author's description of the 13-year-old's circumcision is heart-wrenching. There are people holding his arms tight as he screams in terror. He wants to run away from the barber coming at him with a razor. Poetic justice plays out in the most gruesome manner. When it is Razia's son Samad's turn to be circumcised, she gets hold of a surgeon instead of relying on the barber. While Arif's cut heals quickly, Samad has an infected wound. He is unable to stretch his legs and eventually has to be hospitalised. So, despite her efforts, Razia still has no respite from the summer of pain. A Taste of Heaven examines how everyday objects are invested with immeasurable significance through personal associations that are often inexplicable to others. Bi Dadi, the "eternal virgin", was married off as a child bride. Her husband died a month after the wedding and she has lived with her elder brother's family since. One day, the children here, to whom she is a grandmotherly figure, make an unforgivable mistake: Azeem uses her old prayer mat to clean his bike. The children's mother offers her another prayer mat, one of better quality, but Bi Dadi is inconsolable and refuses to eat. In an unexpected twist, Sanaa, who handed the prayer mat to her brother, pours some Pepsi into a glass and tells Bi Dadi that it is Aab-e-Kausar (water from a river flowing in paradise). "Only the fortunate get to drink it. You are now in heaven. We are the houris ready to serve you." The reader is left wondering if this is an act of cruelty or compassion. Mushtaq manages to sneak in some humour even when she is addressing heavy subjects. In The Arabic Teacher and Gobi Manchuri, the narrator, who is a lawyer, hires a home tutor to teach her daughters Arabic. All is well until she comes home early to find the teacher seated comfortably while her daughters and the cook in the kitchen make "gobi manchuri". Turns out, he has an insatiable fondness for the snack made of cauliflower florets. Though the tutor loses his job, his desire to enjoy the snack to his heart's content leads him to search for a wife who will cook it for him. When he does marry, he is unhappy with the way his wife prepares the dish, and beats her. Mushtaq surprises the reader by transforming a quirk that is initially a source of innocuous laughter into something horrid. Translator Deepa Bhasthi stays true to the characters and the milieu. Her translation is so competent that the reader never feels like something has been lost. Words from Kannada flow into the English translation without seeming obtrusive or jarring. On the International Booker shortlist this year, Heart Lamp has earned every bit of the applause coming its way. It is a must-read....