A Woman’s Woman
- Independent Ink
- 4 days ago
- 5 min read
Undeterred in her stances, morally clear and fearless; someone who walks with fire. In GenZ terms, Arundhati Roy is a woman’s woman.
By Bidhi Adhikari in Kathmandu / Sapan News
On an otherwise unremarkable afternoon, I learned that Arundhati Roy was at Ekta Books in Kathmandu, Nepal, for the book signing event of her memoir, Mother Mary Comes to Me, released in September 2025. The thought of her being suddenly, improbably close, seemed to thin the air around me.
Inside Ekta Bookstore, I saw Arundhati Roy signing books while readers gathered around her. I was unsure whether to move forward or remain still. The room was held by the attentiveness directed at her presence. I joined the line and, over three turns, had three of my books signed.
For me, Arundhati Roy matters not as someone to be idealised or placed on a pedestal, but an extension of a shared conscience. She uses her visibility to echo the realities of ordinary people whose voices never enter public discourse or reach the ‘clouds’ of power that hover above us.
She is undeterred in her stances, morally clear and fearless; someone who walks with fire. She speaks of hope and art as a way to the future, and is known to 'outline the shape of the beast’.
Perhaps, that is why, when I met her, she felt strikingly ordinary in the most grounding sense. Her presence felt without the weight of her public identity as a writer, an author or an activist. She was a figure to be observed, and that, in itself, became a great learning on life and its outlook.
On who to be, and how to be. It restored my faith in the small, persistent efforts we make each day to stand for what matters, from the private spaces of home to the public urgency of the streets. Not to be seen or celebrated, but to remain attentive. To keep questioning.
Because in the end, what else is there to be?
Her memoir Mother Mary Comes to Me is about a daughter who un-daughters herself to see her mother as a woman, an individual. Roy and her brother paid the price with their childhood where Mary Roy forged herself into the formidable woman she was.
But it's tough to be Mary Roy.
A good mother
In Southasia, being a mother is revered as the greatest achievement for a woman. Motherhood is often sold as the sole purpose of a woman’s life, and the most respectable title she can hold. A good mother is one who nurtures her children into the ideals of society, disciplines them in the right amount, and teaches them culture, relations and family values.
This often means raising sons strong enough to carry her husband’s legacy, and daughters capable enough to ensure their sons continue their husband’s legacy.
A woman strives greatly to bear a son, thus upgrading herself to gain a voice/standing.
Against this backdrop, Mary Roy emerges as a difficult and complex figure. “She was woven through it all, taller in my mind than any billboard, more perilous than any river in spate, more relentless than the rain, more present than the sea itself,”
Arundhati Roy writes about the overwhelming presence of her mother in her memoir. The book reveals Mary Roy as an unconventional mother who let her daughter of 18 flee from her house without seeking a reason upon her return.
In one way, Mary Roy doesn’t try to find meaning or any sense of identity through her children, to the extent where she is inconsiderate and cruel as a mother. In another way, she was a woman, pruned by her family and society, who absorbed the cruelty of the world like foam soaking up water that poured on her children when it was too much to hold.
In this memoir two women exist as the strong glitch in patriarchy. On one hand, Mary Roy walks away from conventional motherhood to channel her vigour into becoming an educator, activist and an individual in her own right. On the other hand, Arundhati Roy, even when dealing with immense pain as a daughter and a sister, ‘un-daughters herself’ to see her mother as a woman like herself.
The grace with which she regards her mother sums up the tragedy for every Southasian daughter, of not getting to be just the daughter, but, instead, compelled to look past the whipper’s whips and realise that they, too, are guided by the terror that threatens all women.
In GenZ terms, Arundhati Roy is a woman’s woman.
Readers without Borders
Since it was published, ‘Mother Mary Comes to Me’ has become a part of a wider global discussion. In early September, Arundhati Roy set out on a tour starting in the UK where she took the stage in London, Bath and Brighton. Later that month, she also made stops in multiple cities in Canada and the US.
This tour also brought her to Kathmandu. On 7 December, she signed her memoir in two bookshops, Booksmandala and Ekta Books. Two days later, she was at Reconference 2025, a global feminist forum, also in Kathmandu, where participants come together to develop ideas and strategies around justice, inclusion, and resistance across borders. The gathering was convened by Crea, an international South-led feminist human rights organisation.
For me, the conversation continued on 13 December, when the Southasia Peace Action Network (Sapan), in collaboration with the Readers Without Borders (RWB) book club, hosted a discussion on the memoir. Although Roy was unable to attend at the last minute, the event, with over 70 participants from around the world carried on with a rich dialogue.
Moderated by Ambereen Mirza, RWB founder, and Beena Sarwar, Sapan co-founder, the discussion focused on Roy as a writer, exploring the book’s central theme of a beautiful and complex mother-daughter relationship that is a storm but also a shelter.
In a world that often tries to simplify what’s complicated, Mother Mary Comes to Me captures the Southasian reality where a woman’s power is often carved out of the very detachment that causes pain.
In the final analysis, Arundhati Roy’s latest work maps a difficult legacy where a mother’s refusal to be a vessel for others, however costly to those around her, unwittingly clears the path for a daughter to reclaim herself. This memoir with its layered and nuanced universal insights, features the truth of two women who survive each other and resist the world.
Bidhi Adhikari is an economics student and a freelance researcher based in Kathmandu, Nepal, who volunteers with the Southasia Peace Action Network.
This is a Sapan News syndicated feature. credit http://www.sapannews.com.