Review of Insta-famous British Asian poet Nikita Gill's debut novel, The Girl and the Goddesses

It’s more than likely you’ve seen Nikita Gill’s poetry on Instagram, perhaps without even realising it. Usually a white or grey background stamped with thought-provoking black words, they invoke mystical images and the innate strength of womanhood. And her debut novel, The Girl and the Goddess, is the pinnacle of this.

Beautiful and life-affirming, through poetic verse, it tells the story of a young Kashmiri Indian girl named Paro, whose family is still dealing with the ruptures of partition and how she grows from an imaginative and wide-eyed child to an exuberant and hopeful teenager who discovers the devastating realities of life to an adult who realises her true self and the unimaginable power she holds within.

The novel-in-verse format is refreshing, fast-paced, exciting and great for those who may struggle to keep up with the storyline when reading fictional books. It is also filled with Gill’s beautiful and heartfelt illustrations. Returning to her core themes of feminism, healing and mythology in her most powerful and personal work yet, Gill taps into the rich well of Hindu mythology, conjuring up jasmine scented voices and ancestral smiles as Paro confronts fear, desire and the very darkest parts of herself in the search for meaning and empowerment. 

The book covers problems that sadly many women commonly face like sexual harassment, sexual assault, sexism, body shaming and colourism, as well as a number of other issues currently plaguing the world like anxiety and depression, homophobia, racism and violence and war, but there is a genuine, plot-based reason for this. In addition, Gill manages to keep the story fast-paced enough to not linger on any one trauma for too long whilst still providing an accurate depiction of them.

Gill’s strength as a storyteller lies in her ability to detail the struggles of being a woman. Two stand out moments, for example, are, when asked to write her wish as part of an assignment at school, Paro writes that she wishes she were a boy, after seeing the difference in expectations between her brother and herself, the split in household responsibilities between her mother and her father and the leniency afforded to the male peers in her class and, the consequences she suffers after letting her guard down regarding her personal safety as a female, for just one moment.

The book is also exemplary in its nuanced telling of the personal effect partition had on individual people and especially on their interpersonal relationships, even decades after it happened. Gill explores relationships a lot in her book and in particular, the beauty and majesty of forgiveness in familial relationships and the tragic un-acceptance of same-gender relationships in India.

Stories of Hindu goddesses interwoven throughout the story are the best bits of the book - the life lessons from them are empowering and show the revered women in a different light: from a feminist perspective. Through them, the protagonist comes to realise the innate strength, tenacity of spirit and wisdom of being a woman and how that is something to celebrate. Paro learns that womanhood is a spectrum; from fearsome and commanding to nurturing and feminine but always brave and strong.

Unputdownable, the book will whisk you away by it’s magic, descriptive settings and strong and relatable main character. It’s a must-read for south Asian women. Gill has done a tremendous job in using the book to show women what they are worth. It feels like a love letter to south Asian women everywhere.