The aromas of different spices and herbs engulfed all my senses the moment we stepped foot in the area. We were at the Khari Baoli market as a part of our monthly ritual—on the first weekend of every month, Chachajaan would drive my brother and I on his old scooter to this market in Old Delhi to shop for household necessities before we made a stop at Gianni’s for ice cream. The Baoli, better-known as one of the most popular wholesale markets for spices, herbs and nuts in India, was always bustling with people—with vendors selling their goods, families doing their weekly shopping, rickshaws going to and fro and an errant cow or two making a special appearance. Sweating profusely and overwhelmed by all the scents and smells, my attention would turn towards the huge mounds of spices and the towering piles of walnuts and almonds and I wondered who was responsible for de-shelling and peeling such large quantities of nuts. Often, I tried to imagine the faces and lives of the people who did the work behind the scenes and made up stories about them in my head.

Thanks to The Many Lives of Syeda X,  written by award-winning journalist Neha Dixit, some of the questions and curiosities of my childhood have now been answered. In her literary debut, Dixit places a working-class Muslim woman at the centre of the story and removes the cloak of invisibility that has been thrust upon people who do certain kinds of work. 

Dixit first met Syeda, the woman on whom the book is based and who used to be one of the almond-peelers, at a massive strike organised by almond workers in Delhi for better wages and working conditions. The story is an account of the real Syeda, whom Dixit closely followed, interacted with and interviewed over three decades. By sharing the story of Syeda with evocative prose, the use of dramatic arc and dialogue, Dixit allows the readers to step into her world. The direct quotes and factual information that is provided remind us that Syeda’s world actually exists within our own and that the events mentioned in the text actually happened. By blending investigative reporting with engaging storytelling, Dixit is able to create a compelling piece of art that captures our interest and portrays the human condition in all its contradictions and complexities.

The story, which is book-ended between two riots, begins in the early 1990s, with the demolition of the Babri Masjid in Uttar Pradesh and the widespread destruction and chaos that followed in its aftermath. Syeda, a young woman born into a family of weavers in Banaras, who has recently gotten married to Akmal, has to flee the city to escape the virulent anti-Muslim violence. She and her husband, with no money to their name and no connections to help them, find refuge in the capital city of Delhi. During the years they spend in Delhi, Syeda becomes the breadwinner and decision-maker of her family. She does more than 50 odd jobs—shelling almonds, sewing jeans, making tea strainers and tyres, working inside factories and as a home-based worker—to sustain herself and her family. As Syeda tries to figure out her place in the world and learns to navigate the different challenges that life throws at her, the reader also goes on this journey with her. Dixit takes us on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, giving us an honest and unfiltered look into the narrow gallis and mohallas of Dilli as well as a closer look at the urbanised and industrialised areas of Delhi. Moreover, she provides us an insight into the lives, interiority, struggles and achievements of the ‘unseen’ women of India. 

Going by the title, one might assume this is simply about the many stages of a singular woman’s life; however, the book is an exploration of the collective human experience. This is not just the story of one Indian woman but a tale that many women from different regions, religions and communities will find parts of their lives reflected in. Syeda is a woman who lives in present-day India but her experiences and conflicts are ones that women from Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka and other parts of the world can also relate to. In many senses, Syeda is an Everywoman—she is a representative of all the women who have had to face different kinds of biases, prejudices and abuses throughout their lives; women who have been perpetually side-lined and marginalized due to socio-economic, political and cultural reasons. Syeda is all the women who have been forced to spend their lives on the margins of society and have had to fight for basic rights.

But just as much as Syeda is everywoman and all-women, she is also uniquely herself. 

Her name, economic and religious background and identity bring a specific set of challenges, roles and rules that she has to learn to navigate, balance and conquer over time. It would be remiss of the reader to ignore Syeda’s class position and her ‘Muslimness’, which are extremely significant in the context of the increasing economic divide and rising Islamophobia in the India of today. In a country that is turning extremely hostile towards its Muslim citizens and a place where economically-underprivileged Muslim women are especially vulnerable due to the intersection of  religious, class and gender factors, it is important that we pay attention to Syeda’s immediate identities to understand her choices, decisions, traumas, anxieties and fears. Ever since her peaceful life in Banaras is disrupted by the Babri Masjid riots, the ghost of communalism refuses to leave her side. She and her family are at constant risk and are targeted, arrested, abused and attacked because they are Muslims migrants. They lose housing opportunities, jobs, friendships and family members to religious prejudice and communal hatred. 

Although Syeda does everything in her power to overcome the demons of her past, the past catches up to her. Life comes full circle for Syeda when she and her family are caught in the anti-Muslim violence in Delhi in 2020 and she is once again forced to rebuild her life and figure out how to bounce back from the aftermath of senseless violence. It is at that moment that Syeda realizes that the demolition of the Babri Masjid “was only the precursor, the beginning” and that “the warp and weft that was undone almost thirty years back could never be woven back again”.

But in spite of all the adversity and misfortune that befalls her, Syeda does not give up. The endless obstacles, the odds being against her and the flames that consume her place of work, home and family affect her deeply but they cannot douse the fire that burns within her. She continues working, does not compromise on her values and remains hungry for more until the end. Even when she is surrounded by bullies, predators and oppressors, Syeda refuses to be a passive victim. She is not someone who lets others dictate her choices, write her fate and  choose the direction of her story. 

Although the focus remains on Syeda, Dixit also skilfully weaves in a commentary on many relevant issues in the fabric of her book. The complex themes of religious bigotry, gender violence, class struggle, caste discrimination and the ways in which they interact, overlap and shape life in India are explored and examined with unflinching honesty and keen observation. By adding factual reporting and popular cultural references in appropriate doses throughout the text, Dixit is able to perfectly balance the serious and the alarming with the ordinary and the everyday. 

The Many Lives of Syeda X is about one working-class Muslim woman in India, who once used to shell almonds in Khari Baoli, but it also about every women, every ‘faceless’ migrant, every victim of communal violence, every person who has to survive on the margins. 

The Many Lives of Syeda X is, simultaneously, the story of Syeda and the story of a nation. 

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Corrections have been made to this article where previous references to aspects of the story being fictionalized have been removed. The Author’s Note in the book detail the many ways the voices represented in the book have been collected and presented with care.