Pyar dosti hai, agar woh meri sab se achchi dost nahin ban sakti, to main usse kabhi pyar kar hi nahi sakta, kyunki dosti bina toh pyar hota hi nahin, simple, pyar dosti hai, love is friendship…”

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, 1998

It is not without reason that Shah Rukh Khan is crystallised as the man, the myth and the metaphor behind romance in our minds. Whether it's the vulnerability of his characters or how he inspires aspiration through his meteoric rise in the industry, or how he rarely ever takes himself seriously in his public appearances –– SRK invokes many feelings but a common one remains adoration. And this shared fandom is the central thread that unveils how women think about relationships, men, money, beauty, agency, love, and their ambitions in Shrayana Bhattacharya’s debut Desperately Seeking Shah Rukh. The book is not about SRK, but the generations of women he is adored by across India and diverse classes of society. 

Trained in development economics at Delhi University and Harvard University, and working as an economist at a multilateral development bank since 2014, Shrayana’s writing brings nuance, insight and sometimes gossip to data and humanises it instantly. In this interview, she shares the genesis and the process of writing this book, reflects on fandom - her own and others', and reveals her compass of detecting misogyny.

One of the fans you interviewed has a celeb-compass for detecting misogyny. She says, “I’ve developed a simple test to detect misogyny in any Indian, Bangladeshi or Pakistani man. If a man likes Shah Rukh, he is usually progressive. If a man likes Salman, he is bad news. If a man likes Aamir, he’s often a bearded liberal who likes his own voice too much. My test rarely fails.” Is there a compass you’ve developed too - what does it say?

I am approaching my forties and have spent enough years moving between silliness and skepticism in my dealings with men. Through this time, in social interactions, I have developed zero tolerance for men who cannot listen to women they do not desire. And you can easily identify them. Every woman will know the kind of man I mean. To borrow a phrase from Fight Club, ‘the kind of man who is waiting for his turn to speak’. Also, if you are a straight man and have an aversion to SRK, I am on my guard. But I have met many wonderful men who are not fans of the actor. Also, this is my own bias, but I rarely get on with straight gym-bros. 

When did you realise that SRK was a common and defining figure in the lives of single women and that this was a thread that would unravel more?

In 2006, when I was doing fieldwork between Ahmedabad and Rampur, I was pleasantly surprised by how the actor created this beautiful space for women to talk about themselves and their hopes and desires. The moment he was mentioned, the moment I revealed my own fandom to women who were my ‘respondents’, everyone started laughing and giggling. Joyousness took hold of us. The mahaul changed. Right then, I knew this transformation was electric and special. At that time, I did not know the extent to which I would learn about some of these women through our conversations, but I knew I wanted to keep talking about SRK with as many women I encountered in the ‘field’ of my research and lived experience.

When did you begin working on the book? What was the process, and how did it evolve during the pandemic?

This has been a long journey. I started in 2007, with the notes I made from 2006 and decided to try and follow-up on as many of the women who were willing to participate in my chronicle. My personality and training with data and research methods allows for diligent note-taking and follow-up. I did not start to pull these notes together into a book till late-2012. Between 2013-2016, I worked on a draft, where I included stories of women from different class backgrounds as well. Then, in 2017, I made the writing more personal and less academic. I also interviewed a series of activists and film-critics to add more nuance into my narrative on gender and SRK. By 2019, I had a revised draft which I delivered to Shruti Debi, my agent and PhD guide for this book. Shruti gave incredibly formative notes (I call her my book-Yoda!), and I re-wrote through the first year of the pandemic. It was tough as each one of us was dealing with loss and uncertainty in our lives. My day-job had also become rather stressful as we were supporting welfare responses to the crisis. Somehow, magically, we submitted the final draft to publishing houses. At HarperCollins India, I was grateful that the book was edited by the brilliant Shougat Dasgupta through the brutal second wave of the pandemic in Delhi. At the close of our final edits, I decided to reflect whatever I could of the pandemic in the book. Amrita Mukerji was superb for final line-edits and ensuring I cited and organised each number and each study that was quoted in the book. The process sounds rather linear now, but it certainly did not feel like it.  

You talk about the ‘income effect’ in the book. Can you elaborate on what it means and why so many women, as per your conversations, are giving up employment?

Yes, some economists and sociologists suggest that as household incomes grow, many families feel they can survive without an additional income from a woman. Therefore, the financial need for women to hold jobs outside the home is no longer salient. In these homes, women drop out of the paid workforce. You’ll notice this in low levels of women’s employment in wealthy and upper-caste homes. As households become wealthier, they are able to purchase more conservative values. We see this in other forms of gender-discrimination too such as sex-selective abortions. The key idea is that families would prefer women to stay at home and dedicate their energies full-time on care-giving. Given how much public space and the labour market discriminate against women, some withdraw on their own. So, there are multiple ways to see this effect. 

 What other works kept you company while writing this book?

Too many to recall. During the last phase: Shrilal Shukla’s Raag Darbari, Going Sane by Adam Phillips, Sex and Lies by Leila Slimani, Snigdha Poonam’s Dreamers, Manu Pillai’s Rebel Sultans, and Willful Disregard by Lena Anderson. 

Where do the two worlds converge: of being a writer and an economist? What do you borrow from one into the other in matters of routine and craft? 

Data and economics inform my writing. I cannot imagine making an argument or narrative without them. At the same time, I also know how inadequate data or economic theory is in telling a compelling story, especially on gender-relations as these fields are designed to be very masculine. The book is trying to unpack the emotions and everyday experiences hidden behind the economy. On a more practical note, economists tend to be well-trained in facing brutal feedback and navigating repeated edits and iterations. That helps a lot! Most importantly, I find economics trains you to be skeptical of received wisdom or groupthink. As a writer, that is very helpful, as I feel I have been socialised into being nuanced and not generalising too much. 

Are you working on anything new? What can we expect to read next?

Right now, I am hoping to rest after the book promotions cycle calms down. For the near future, I am toying with the idea of a Delhi drawing room novella, a theatre of the city’s network wealth and status games.  Let us see if I can pull that through. I do have a framework in place for my next non-fiction attempt. Much like this book, it will be based on longitudinal research and shall probably take me a decade to complete. Inshallah, I hope I can. 

Can you recommend some contemporary books on gender in the Indian context?

It is not a ‘gender’ book per se, but I loved Suchitra Vijayan’s voice and research in Midnight’s Borders. It is such a glorious book, injecting a woman’s gaze into an area that tends to be studied in a fairly techno-rationalist manner. I cannot recommend it enough. I am currently reading Mobile Girls Koottam by Madhumita Dutta and her work on women garment workers in Tamil Nadu is fantastic. Also, I love anything Nisha Susan writes on womanhood and gender, including her newspaper columns and her lovely book. I am trying to read more on masculinity, and highly recommend Muscular India by Michiel Bass. 

Your tips for writers who are getting ready to put their first book out?

 This is all very new to me. I am not sure I have any tips to offer! Keep writing and rewriting. Stay hydrated and make sure the book promotions do not consume you. Do not over-identify yourself with the book. This is something I keep struggling with. The book is something you have written and created, it has a powerfully close relationship with you, but it is not you.

What are the challenges of writing non-fiction, especially a book like this where you present many truths and many voices?

A major challenge for me was making sure the people involved were comfortable being represented and written about. That took time and effort as there were so many people I had interviewed. I had to respect edits and privacy related concerns. I had to slash paragraphs that I loved because my research participants asked me to. It was a slow process. The other challenge, (and here Shruti and Shougat really helped me) was that I was one of the people in the book. But I did not want to take up too much space as the narrator, nor hide. It was a delicate balance because the book is about these other women, not me. Yet, I wanted the reader to know me through the text, just like the women in my book did. 

Your writing style changes through the course of the book. At one point you are an observer, while at another, you make the reader the protagonist by addressing them as “you”. In between that, you’re laying out the statistics, and uncovering the truths of your own relationships. What informed this particular style of writing?

Experimentation and a great appetite to take risks in my writing. I am not a professional writer or journalist; I have never been trained in creating writing programs. As a result, I did not know the rules and therefore could break all of them. As I started to mix data-writing with memoir and composite tenses, I was having such a blast. So, I decided to follow that instinct to have fun with my own writing. I knew I was taking risks and I was willing to fall flat on my face.  I wanted the book to feel as lively as an SRK film.

A subject like gender and economics is made accessible by the tool you use to research these topics, but you also pepper your writing with humour, personal anecdotes and might I add, gossip. Are there any books that you find similar in vein that imprint the author’s personality onto a serious piece of research? 

Thank you for this comment. I had not thought of it before. I think Poor Economics by Abhijit Banerjee and Esther Duflo has its lighter moments. But yes, generally, books on the economy are not light in touch. But I wanted to move away from the more traditional style of writing in the genre. The book was my place to revolt.

We are very curious to know, did SRK read the book?

 My publishers have sent the book to Mannat and his team. I really hope he does read it at some point. Fingers crossed!

The book was released during a personally trying time for the star. The public response to the crisis however showed a renewed affection for him. Why do you think this affection prevails in an increasingly divided country?

The power of an icon draws from his or her ability to allow ordinary people to tell their own stories. Mr Khan has played such an integral role in our culture: his songs play during marriages and birthday celebrations; people watch his films to commemorate anniversaries and celebrate job offers; he has such a strong psychological imprint on so many across generations. This is a visceral soft power, it is love. And much like the movies, love does prevail in real life too.

From all your conversations and your own fascination with the star, what is it that it really comes down to about our obsession with SRK? What are we seeking so desperately through SRK?

I describe how the love in his films can feel ‘gloriously impractical’ to us. I think, in this world, where we are all hustling and transacting to earn love, his images and films remind us of this impractical love that defies logic and is an exit from this hustle-culture. It is an escape and a relief. For women in conservative circumstances, they are seeking a man who will deviate from the oppressive masculinity surrounding them. He represents freedom and a different masculine ideal. 

Interviewed by Ankita Shah