Reading Ritu Hemnani’s Lion of the Sky (Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins, May 7), a verse novel set during the 1947 Partition of India, I was struck by the author’s note. The Partition had an indelible effect on the lives of Hemnani’s parents and grandparents—and on the millions of Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs who were displaced when India gained its independence from Great Britain. The country was divided into two, and a new Muslim state, Pakistan, was created. Her young daughter, however, had only a limited understanding of the subject. So Hemnani headed to the library to find stories to help unpack this fraught chapter of South Asian history; she came up empty-handed.
“My daughter accused me of making the whole thing up,” she writes. “It broke my heart.” Like Hemnani’s daughter, I never saw Partition reflected in the literature I read growing up. Though my grandparents lived through it, it felt hazy, distant, and, I suspected, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. The Boston Tea Party, the Gettysburg Address, the bombing of Pearl Harbor—that was real history; novels like Johnny Tremain and the American Girl series told me so.
Stories are powerful. They make long-ago events feel visceral, and their absence can convince us that some historical moments matter more than others. I’m heartened to see so much recent kid lit that offers a more expansive, global view of history, including several middle-grade novels about the Partition. These books address grim realities—the arbitrary nature of the borders drawn up by the British, the violence that refugees experienced as they fled—with honesty and empathy, grounded in details that will speak to young readers.
Turmoil looms as Hemnani’s novel begins, but 12-year-old Raj isn’t worried about the talk of the impending Partition—at least not yet. His primary concern is winning the kite-flying festival—and finally earning his stern father’s respect. But after the country is split in two, Raj and his family realize that their beloved Sindh is now part of Pakistan; they and other Hindus must leave the only home they’ve ever known. Hemnani draws thought-provoking parallels between Raj’s turbulent adolescence and India’s newfound independence, both marked by pain and upheaval.
Two other novels speak to the lingering effects of this tumultuous period. Veera Hiranandani’s Amil and the After (Kokila, Jan. 23), illustrated by Prashant Miranda, picks up after the events of her Newbery Honor–winning book, The Night Diary (Dial Books, 2018). After leaving Mirpur Khas—now part of Pakistan—Amil and his family must adjust to life in Bombay, but the 12-year-old is haunted by memories of their journey. Set in the present, Saadia Faruqi’s The Partition Project (Quill Tree Books/HarperCollins, Feb. 7) follows Pakistani American Mahnoor as she bonds with her Dadi (Grandmother), who recently left Lahore to move in with Mahnoor’s family. Dadi opens up about her experiences of the Partition—devastating memories she hasn’t shared in years. Both stories blend their protagonists’ more relatable concerns (sibling dynamics, their artistic aspirations) with nuanced meditations on memory and trauma. Hiranandani and Faruqi emphasize that the past is always with us; it’s up to us to confront it.
Mahnaz Dar is a young readers’ editor.
