Published every Friday, Between the Lines is a weekly column by Namrata, where she delves into the cultural, emotional, and thematic intricacies of both classic and contemporary books. In today’s column, she explores how silence is used as a literary device.
In writing, silence often speaks louder than words. A pause between sentences. A line that trails off. A character who doesn’t answer a question. These moments might look like absence, but they are charged with meaning. In South Asian literature, so attuned to context, what can and cannot be spoken, silence is rarely empty. It becomes a form of resistance, a marker of trauma, a space for ambiguity, or even a gesture of love.
For centuries, especially in societies shaped by hierarchies of caste, class, gender, and community, silence has been a way to survive. But in the hands of a skilled writer, it becomes more than survival. It becomes a tool of storytelling.