Motherhood and storytelling share a certain quiet intimacy. They both ask for patience, empathy, and the ability to hold contradictions: joy and exhaustion, chaos and creativity, discipline and surrender. As I spoke to two Indian authors, each at different ends of the literary spectrum, I was struck by how deeply their roles as mothers inform the stories they tell, and how being a writer, in turn, helps them process the unpredictable journey of motherhood.
Madhavi Gunasheela: When the Plot Waits for Motherhood
For Madhavi Gunasheela, author of the crime novel If Only They Knew, writing wasn’t something she could begin while navigating early motherhood. “I found the time to write only after my kids were grown-up enough to take care of their responsibilities,” she told me. “It was only then that I could even think of pursuing my other interests.”
Her answer wasn’t just honest. It was refreshingly grounded. There was no glorified juggling act here, just the reality of a single parent who prioritized raising her children before giving herself permission to chase her literary dreams.
Though her fiction isn’t directly inspired by her children, the emotional landscape of motherhood, particularly empathy, finds its way into her storytelling. “Motherhood is a very personal journey, unique to each mother. But empathy is universal, and it definitely influences how stories are narrated,” she said.
One of the most poignant moments in our conversation came when I asked her what parenting had taught her as a writer. “Patience and kindness,” she replied. “As a single parent, enforcing rules all the time can be overwhelming. That mindset—to be gentler with your children—can be extended to your writing life too. You learn to be kind to yourself when the journey gets tough.”
Varna Sri Raman: Mothering the Story and the World
If Madhavi found her stories after the storm of early motherhood had passed, Varna Sri Raman is writing and illustrating right from within the chaos. The mother of three, including a two-year-old daughter, a dog named Heera, Varna is known for her vibrant, socially-conscious children’s books, including The Bulbul & the Big Big Breeze and Happy Lemon. Her latest, The Very Last Superhero, takes on climate change, a subject close to home both literally and emotionally. Her family lives near the Okhla forest, close to a toxic waste-to-energy plant in Delhi, where pollution isn’t an abstract concept. It’s part of daily life.
Varna’s stories are inseparable from her family’s experiences. “Agastya and Kundendu often spark ideas just by being themselves—curious, mischievous, full of questions that sidestep adult logic,” she shared. “Happy Lemon came from watching them argue over imaginary friends and turn a fruit into a character with feelings.”
When I asked how she manages creative work alongside parenting, she offered a perspective that felt both honest and wise. “I don’t think balance is the right word. It’s more like rotation. Some days the mothering is centre stage, other days the writing takes over. I’ve learned to work in fragments, to make peace with interruptions, and to trust that even when I’m not producing, I’m still absorbing.”
What stood out most was how she sees her role as a storyteller not just as an artistic calling, but as a way to pass on values to her children.
“I write not to simplify the world for my children, but to offer them stories that acknowledge its complexity with hope. If the stories I make help them see the world more sharply and act in it more kindly, I’ve done my job.”
Both Madhavi and Varna approach motherhood and storytelling differently, yet their insights circle around similar truths. Creativity doesn’t always bloom in spite of motherhood. Often, it thrives because of it. This Mother’s Day, their words remind us that behind every book written by a mother is a life full of invisible negotiations, quiet strength, and deep love.
