An Interview with Sami Ahmad Khan

Kalpabiswa is thrilled to engage in a direct conversation with one of the leading voices of contemporary Science Fiction. I, Debraj Moulick, a humble devotee of Science Fiction, am honoured to share the interview of Dr. Sami Ahmad Khan. Let me take this moment to introduce…..

Sami Ahmad Khan is a writer, academic, and documentary producer. He is the recipient of a Marie Sklodowska-Curie Actions Fellowship (University of Oslo, Norway), a Fulbright FLTA grant (University of Iowa, USA), and a UGC-MANF Senior Research Fellowship (Jawaharlal Nehru University, India). His future-war thriller Red Jihad (Rupa, 2012) won two awards, and his second novel, Aliens in Delhi (Niyogi, 2017), was shortlisted for the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar. His fiction has been the subject of formal academic research and a part of university syllabi in India and the US. He also holds a PhD in Indian SF, and is the author of Star Warriors of the Modern Raj: Materiality, Mythology and Technology of Indian Science Fiction, one of the first global studies of India’s anglophone Science Fiction (University of Wales Press, 2021). His most recent book is The Speculative Route: Futures from South and Southwest Asia and North Africa (Routledge 2025, co-edited with Merve Tabur). He has been translated into Czech and Marathi, and his creative and critical writings have appeared in leading academic journals (Science Fiction Studies, The Journal of Popular Culture, Foundation), university presses (MIT Press, University of Wales Press), and trade imprints (Gollancz, Hachette, Bloomsbury, Routledge, Rupa, Juggernaut, Niyogi). He currently discusses Science Fiction and Creative Writing at Jawaharlal Nehru University, India, where he teaches MA and PhD level courses on Science Fiction, as well as supervises MA/PhD research on Science Fiction.

1. In your book Star Warriors of the Modern Raj, you address materiality, mythology, and technology. In what ways do you think Indian SF incorporates myth and history to craft narratives distinct from Western SF traditions?

A: Our stories make us who we are—and we, in turn, make these stories our stories. Indian SF excels in appropriating global and local topoi—and giving them a flavour (or, if you want, a vantage point) that is quintessentially rooted in the nation’s own history⇌myth, popular imagination, and material realities. But how do we approach and comprehend Indian SF, especially when we know that even a prima facie analysis concludes that Indian SF is not one that merely copies the topoi/mechanics of global SF?

A long time ago, while studying Indian Science Fiction for my PhD, I realized that most of the theoretical and academic perspectives that existed to explain SF in and from India at that time—barring a few, of whom works by Suparno Banerjee and Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay are noted exceptions—were coming to us from the Global North. We are the data—west was the theory—and academic research was about taking “western” (I use this as an umbrella term, that too with a barrel of salt) perspectives and imposing them on data/narratives from India. I wanted this to change: our data deserves our own theories and vice versa. I realized that I had to come up with an academic theorization that derived from the specific material context(s) of the society that produced and consumed Speculative Fiction. Star Warriors of the Modern Raj was thus born, which came up with an ‘IN situ model’. This is a way to look at SF from India, using conventions from India’s distinct forms of storytelling and popular imagination, though one which is, of course, conscious of the global reach and impact of the genre.

The model advances three nodes vis-à-vis the space, time and being of Indian SF. One, the ‘transMIT thesis’ evidences how Indian SF transmits (emergent) technologies, (sedimented) mythologies and (mutating) ideologies across/through its narratives. Two, the ‘antekaal thesis’ interrogates the ruptured temporalities of Indian S: it seeks how SF narratives respond to a quantum interplay generated before time (Latin ‘ante’), against time (Greek ‘anti’), at the end of time (Sanskritised/Urduesque ‘ant-e-kaal’), and for all-time/eternity (Hindi ‘anantkaal’). Three, the ‘neoMONSTERS thesis’ views monsters/others in Indian SF as M.O.N.S.T.E.R.S.—Mutating Ontological Narratives in Space Time Echoing Realistic Simulations/Scenarios—and studies how monstrosity and alterity are constructed, deployed, and interrogated in India’s SF, especially when religious and political ideologies collide and collude.

Coming back to your question: I have written extensively on how Indian SF—being produced in India, and shaped by its distinct ethos—refuses to draw any clear-cut boundaries between past and future, history and myth, and between science and faith (see the section on “mythology” in Star Warriors). The tension inherent in the spaces between them allows Indian SF writers and readers to go where no one has gone before.

2. From Red Jihad to Aliens in Delhi, your fictions directly engage with India’s sociopolitical realities. Do you think political science fiction has a stronger resonance in the Indian context than, say, space operas or cyberpunk narratives?

A: I wouldn’t say that—everything depends on how you are encoding or weaving current sociopolitical realities in your narrative, and how you craft the intersections of the world of the author and the world of the text. Space operas and cyberpunk have equal potential to mediate the world that we live in. Thus, everything boils down to individual choice and preference of the author for that project: all types of SF are capable of being equally revolutionary (or reactionary). I write different things at different times, all within the ambit of SF, and like to regard my works as thought experiments that study how SF mediates our worlds as well as other forms of storytelling. For example, Red Jihad was planned as Future War thriller; Aliens in Delhi as Military SF; “15004” as SF Horror; “PT Period” as an iteration of a dystopia (with specific focus on education and teaching in the future); and “Biryani Bagh” as fusing different SF genres/modes (such as post-humanism, dystopia, AI). Each mode/form/genre of writing empowers the author to create new worlds that emanate out of the world(s) we live in—and each has equal potential to interrogate our present and suggest new, better tomorrows.

3. Indian SF remains niche in comparison to Indian crime, romance, or mythological retellings. What do you think are the barriers preventing it from gaining more mainstream readership here?

A: India is one of the largest book markets in the world, but just because SF isn’t as popular in Anglophone Indian markets doesn’t mean it isn’t popular in other markets, such as Marathi or Bangla. Do we consider the English-language market as the sole/prime mover of India’s popular imagination, whether in political or commercial terms? I would say—NO. SF in India is prominent. Maybe not in English-language (which, too, changed post-2000), but India has had a long tradition of SF in Bangla, Marathi, Tamil, Urdu, etc., which runs parallel to the ‘western’ canons, traditions and historicity. So, yes, true, I would see the silver lining and say that there are some markets in India in which SF is popular.

But overall, I see the logic of your question. Indian SF isn’t as popular as SF is in the “west”—neither is it as relatively popular as other modes of storytelling such as romance and mythology. I think the barriers have more to do with already existing structures and market forces than a lack of readers and writers. Things depend on what is visible, what sells, what the dominant market forces want to back as per pre-set sales formulas.

However, I see hope: The future looks bright. Fan communities have propelled SF across generations and states! Technical education is becoming the norm in the country—add to it a more wholesome integration with global popular culture, as well as our own inherent comfort with fantastical/non-mimetic modes of storytelling, and one can see a rise in Indian SF in both qualitative and quantitative terms.

As for what can make SF more visible in India, I think we must also read, write, teach, edit, and research on Indian SF. While reading and writing are paramount, I think teaching and researching are also important since they dispel against the ill-conceived notion that SF is escapist (or meant for children). While certain kinds of SF—especially those that aim at science popularization and science communication—are directed towards children and young adults, other kinds of SF can be read as political and philosophical ruminations on the nature of our reality, hence breaking the boundaries between serious/literary, pulp/commercial, and progressive/reactionary storytelling.

4. You are balancing the two demanding dimensions: academic analysis and creative writing. Do you ever feel torn between the demands of academic scholarship and the freedoms of storytelling in popular media?

A: Not at all. Academic analysis entails its own forms of storytelling—just as creative writing requires research and planning. Both are, thus, complementary, and I prefer to blur the boundaries between academic analysis and creative writing. For example, in “Ancient Zombies: Six Indian Narratives of the Undead”, I fuse both. At that time, I was rabbit-holing zombies for an MSCA research project I had undertaken at Oslo, and had around 6 zombie short story ideas. Since I had limited time, and I had to balance academics and writing, I decided to adopt a hybrid format. Instead of writing the six stories, I considered them already written and penned a (fictional) academic research essay on them. This used academic referencing, citations, and built on existing zombie scholarship—as well as completely fictional references, so the reader never realizes when the academic essay on global zombies ends and where the fictional piece on ancient zombies in India begins. It was so much fun—and the reason why I came to SF, to have fun! Lastly, both academics and writing SF are means towards the same end—the popularization of SF in India—and I use them both.

5. With your overseas research experience at Oslo and Iowa, what differences do you notice in how Science Fiction is studied and received in Indian classrooms and its counterparts in Europe, as well as in America?

A: The challenge about institutionalizing more of SF we are facing presently in India was faced by the Global North a few decades ago. It is thanks to the efforts of academics-fans there that the genre is so readily accepted not just in mass culture but also in universities. We stand at that point—and our efforts today will define the future of SF studies in India. We must not let up and continue pushing SF forwards!

But yes, there is a difference between SF in Indian classrooms and those of the US/Europe, the two places I can compare our home SF with, having been a part of those academic systems. The difference is simply that there isn’t enough of SF in Indian classrooms, nothing more—I must insist that SF is received really, really well in the Indian classrooms based on personal experiences. The “canon” that exists in universities and schools must be challenged—and SF is a great way to do it. I am happy to share that at JNU—my current university—I am privileged to offer MA and PhD level courses on Science Fiction, with special emphasis on Indian SF, in addition to promoting PhDs on SF, SpecFic, and related areas. Everyone across the globe is proud of their SF own traditions and want to bring them in their syllabi/curricula to project it to the world: Liu Cixin in China and Alistair Reynolds in the anglophone world are two examples. Shouldn’t we be doing that too?

6. What kind of institutional support do you think Indian academia needs to make SF studies as mainstream and respected as fields like postcolonial studies or gender studies?

A: This question is best looked at via the interlocking of four dimensions. One, SF is primarily a mode rather than a genre—for it hybridizes generic conventions with elan. Think Koi Mil Gaya: It has elements of fantasy, mythology, horror, thriller, romance, not to mention SF, etc. The second is that SF isn’t escapist—it is, more often than not, a refraction (and not just a mediation) of our lived realities. The third is that SF is a spectrum. It has works which are mindless and market oriented but also those that are full of artistic and philosophical questions. Choose whatever works for you! The fourth is that SF is the future—it is the literature/art of an age that is itself science fictional, and hence, the ultimate mode of storytelling for our technoscientific age. Fuse all four and you will realize that SF is worthy of the institutional support we want it to have.

However, I also feel we shouldn’t be trying to make SF more “respectable” or mainstream—if its contents and stories don’t automatically speak for the crucial and critical need for SF in our minds and societies, then no need trying to package it as something that should be mainstream. The objective, rather, should be to make SF even more fun, diverse, challenging power structures—and wild. We have always been a fan-driven mode, which is propelled not just by the mind but the hearts. I think that will make SF reach university syllabi organically. For example, Aliens in Delhi is the BA syllabus of Mumbai University. Red Jihad was in the MA syllabus of Viswa-Bharati University. “Biryani Bagh” was in the syllabus of IIT Jodhpur. These works organically make their way into courses on not just SF but also War Literature, South Asian Studies, etc. These works, I must add, have been subjects of format academic research at MA/PhD levels, as well as the subjects of multiple research papers/essays written, and this is despite any publicity budgets or marketing campaigns. I think we should just keep writing and reading—and believe in the power of SF to find its way!

7. Looking ahead, what do you think are the dominant themes that Indian SF will explore in the coming decades?

A: It might build on the themes it readily dissects with so much panache in contemporary writing—otherization, alterity, impact of new technologies on human behaviour, spacetime exploration, worldbuilding in dystopias/utopias, global climate change, CBRN warfare, acute scarcity of resources (such as water shortages), and energy/food security, to name a few.

8. Kindly comment on the growth of science fiction in Indian regional languages.

A: While many global readers unfamiliar with the heterogeneity and polyphony of India may mistakenly confuse anglophone output with the total literary output, India has had a long tradition of SF in Bangla, Marathi, Tamil, Urdu, etc. starting in the late 19th century itself. Untranslated literature is not unread literature, as Jessica Langer points out. SF in India has been prominent for some time now, a tradition that runs parallel to SF’s coming of age in other cultures and languages, such as English or French SF. To cite examples from just three languages of India: Kylas Chunder Dutt’s “A journal of forty-eight hours of the year 1945” (The Calcutta Literary Gazette, 1835, English), Hemlal Datta’s “Rahasya” (Vigyan Darpan, 1882, Bangla), Ambika Dutt Vyas’s “Ascharya Vrittant” (Piyush Pravaha, 1884-88, Hindi) represent language-specific starting points of Indian SF (for more about the history of the genre in India, please see Suparno Banerjee’s Indian Science Fiction, 2020, pg. xiii).

Coming back to the question. I admit that I have been a victim of a similar misconception that SF in imported to India. Barring a few Hindi comic books and Shonku (who I found in translation only as late as class XI), I was ignorant enough to not read any Indian SF writers while growing up simply because I was not aware they existed. If only I knew that India’s regional languages had a rich history of SF… but a teenager me was so concerned with anglophone works that it was only much later that I chanced across Satyajit Ray’s Professor Shonku etc. It made me feel horrified – there was a mighty tradition of Indian SF and I had ignored it, limited by the medium of instruction in school (English) and my own mother tongue (Hindi). However, things are changing fast. I think Phondke’s anthology It Happened Tomorrow, which brought translations of SF stories from India’s regional languages into English, became a benchmark that needs to be emulated more. Saint’s two Gollancz anthologies have done something similar. The only way ahead is through translations, so our stories could reach more people. English isn’t the only language in the country!

9. Your short story “PT Period” was translated from English into Marathi (in Morpankhi Vigyankatha, 2022). Kalpabiswa feels honoured to translate one of your acclaimed short stories, “15004” (published in Gollancz Book of South Asian Science Fiction, Volume 01). Rakesh Das, who has successfully translated George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four in Bengali, will be translating your story into Bengali. As a storyteller, how does it feel to watch your story being adapted in Bengali?

A: It is always a privilege! I am honoured and hope to see more translations in the future. I am someone who never writes for the market—but to have fun with my own ideas—and hope that my actions could contribute, in a small way, towards promoting and popularizing SF in India. Thankfully, I am not alone—there are some very bright minds in the country who are coordinating efforts towards the same goal, the readers/writers/editors/publishers/translators of SF in India. So, when something that was neither envisaged as a commercial enterprise nor geared towards academic/literary circles finds voices in other languages, it is a feeling of pure joy. Thank you very much.

10. Science Fiction has grown based on magazines like Amazing Stories, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Space and Time Magazine, Locus and Galaxy Science Fiction among others. What is your take on Indian Science Fiction Magazines in creating a dedicated readership in India?

A: Magazines hold the potential to draw readers to SF—and are a critical component in the SF infrastructure of the country. For example, Kalpabiswa is doing excellent work with Bangla SF. Mithila Review worked with Anglophone writings. I hope to see many, many more magazines in other languages!

11. Give us five names when it comes to promising authors in the realm of Indian science fiction.

A: That’s a tough one, since a lot of really amazing voices are out there. Indian SF is blessed to established and emerging voices that reorient the way we perceive reality. I am a huge fan of Shovon Chowdhury, who, unfortunately, left us too early. Amongst anglophone SF writers, I think Vandana Singh, Anil Menon, Priya Sarukkai Chabria, and Manjula Padmanabhan—not to forget Samit Basu (who is more SFF, usually)—are my all-time favourites. I am also in awe of the greats in other languages, who I had to access via translations: Satyajit Ray and Premendra Mitra (Bangla), Jayant Narlikar (Marathi), and Sujatha (Tamil) are some examples. This list is, of course, indicative. Moreover, I lean more towards SF than SFF or Fantasy, even though I love all of these modes.

12. The readers are keen to know about your upcoming works.

A: While I have been reading, writing, editing, teaching, and researching SF, I want to ensure I am part of a generation that opens up the genre/mode of SF and takes it to the masses, both Indian and global. I am at that stage in my life where seeing my name on a book gives me happiness, of course, but promoting Indian SF in general makes me equally happy! My latest book, released last month, is The Speculative Route: Futures from South and Southwest Asia and North Africa (Routledge 2025, co-edited with Merve Tabur). In this, we asked the leading SF writers across select locations of the Global South to reflect on their work, how they imagine future/alternate worlds, and top scholars to write academic essays on the SF from their locations/languages of expertise. The objective was to create more bridges between writers, readers, and scholars of science fiction across the Global South.

As of now, I am working on some other book projects—anthologies, edited books, both academic as well as for a general readership—that take India’s SF to domestic as well as global audiences. The goal is to share Indian SF as much as possible domestically, across the Global South, and the global markets—and create a world where people wouldn’t walk up to us and ask— “hey, what is (Indian) SF? Do we even have that?”

Yes, we do.

13. Ok, Choose Captain Kirk or Captain Picard.

A: Picard!

14. I have had the pleasure of reading your work, Aliens in Delhi. Do you think that aliens can misuse our smartphones to outsmart us and alter the fate of India forever?

A: I think they have already. Try reading it again, this time metaphorically. Where is all this hate that is cleaving, lacerating human society coming from—and how is it spreading? 👽

15. Being a science fiction enthusiast, concerning Star Trek, do you think Space is the Final Frontier?

A: Yes, spacetime is amongst one of the final frontiers—for another one lies not without but within. Perhaps every journey we take towards deep space brings us closer to who we are inside. After all, hybridizing the fact that we are made of “star stuff” (Carl Sagan) with the assessment that “sitaro ke aage jahaan aur bhi hai” (Iqbal)…can have infinite possibilities. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations. Don’t you feel a tremor in…The Force?

Tags: Debraj Moulick, English Section, Kalpabiswa, Sami Ahmad Khan, দশম বর্ষ প্রথম সংখ্যা