BENGALURU: Most people see globalisation as a modern phenomenon – a process that opened borders between distant countries, enabling the free exchange of ideas, goods, and culture. Yet, similar exchanges have flourished throughout human history in various forms, with some of the earliest being the complex, evolving networks of the silk routes at the dawn of the first millennium.
Originating in China, these routes crossed scorching deserts, rugged mountains, and perilous seas, evoking images of wealthy merchants, warriors, and royalty draped in silk and scented with spices. But what about the ordinary people whose lives were transformed by these routes?
Kannada writer Vasudhendra’s new historical novel, Reshme Batte: Onapu Batte, Oratu Daari (Chanda Pustaka; `450), transports readers to this mediaeval world, focusing instead on the lives of everyday people shaped by these silk routes.
“At its core, Reshme Batte isn’t about kings or politics. It’s about the impact of these vast changes on everyday people and how globalisation, trade, and religious exchange disrupted their lives and traditions. My focus is on their resilience and the ways they adapted to a changing world,” says Vasudhendra.
The author explains that the silk routes, along with the change they brought, mirrors contemporary dilemmas, making the book relevant to readers today. “The book also captures the tension between traditional and evolving ways of life. Tribal communities who once lived as nomads now faced choices – remain in the forests or adapt to urban, agricultural lifestyles. This dilemma reflects the kind of choices we face today about whether to stay rooted or pursue new horizons,” he says.
The title Reshme Batte: Onapu Batte, Oratu Daari reflects the contrast between the precious commodities transported along the silk routes and the difficult lives of those carrying them. “In Kannada, batte means ‘cloth’. Oratu daari implies a rough path, while onapu batte refers to a soft, fine cloth. The silk routes were a perilous journey – through the Taklamakan Desert, the Hindu Kush mountains, and along the Sindhu river, reaching as far as Ladakh and Afghanistan.
Many people lost their lives, families were separated, and women faced hardships, even slavery. Yet the cloth they transported was incredibly soft and beautiful. This contrast – between the smoothness of the silk and the roughness of the path – symbolises the novel’s themes,” he explains.
Working on the novel over four years, Vasudhendra immersed himself in a variety of books to absorb the stories and atmosphere of the silk routes, without becoming overly focused on detail. “I immersed myself in research for four years, reading the material multiple times to internalise the era. I don’t take notes because I don’t want to write with a historian’s exactitude; I’m a novelist, so I let the details shape an imaginative framework in my mind,” he says.
Known for his previous works, such as Mohanaswamy, a collection of short stories exploring the lives of queer men, and Tejo Tungabhadra, chronicling the history of the Vijayanagara Empire, this novel is not Vasudhendra’s first foray into historical fiction. “I think people are drawn to history because they see themselves in it,” he says. “I was surprised by how much people love history.
They find it fascinating, especially when it’s presented as a story. History itself is full of captivating narratives, and when told engagingly, people embrace it. It struck me that perhaps our interest in history comes from a sense of connection to our forefathers. Everyone likely has an ancestor somewhere in history, and that resonates,” he explains.