You can choose to live either comfortably or courageously. Padma Shri Sunitha Krishnan, activist and author, chose the latter. You can be resigned about the atrocities you see in the world or respond to them with resolve. Krishnan again chose the latter. It's what makes her an inimitable icon. After decades of wearing the warrior's armour as a social worker and trafficking crusader, Krishnan stepped into the mantel of an author - to tell the story of her life that has witnessed and experienced more than what most ever will.

That she distilled all those experiences into a book in 13 days is astounding. wknd. caught up with Sunitha Krishnan after her memoir I am what I am won the Best International Book (Non Fiction) award at Sharjah International Book Fair 2025.

Edited excerpts from the interview:

You called the award at Sharjah Book Fair“surreal”. For someone who has seen and endured so much, what felt surreal about it?

Being acknowledged as an author felt surreal. I've always been seen as an activist, not a writer. I am what I am went through several reprints, but this was the first time I was recognised purely for my writing. To be honoured internationally, and that too in the Middle East, for a subject so sensitive was beyond anything I had imagined.

What made you decide to tell your story now, after all these years of work and silence?

Two incidents pushed me. My father's death in 2021 was the first. He had always wanted to publish his autobiography, and just two months before he died, we self-published it. At his memorial, people said,“We didn't know he was such a remarkable man.” I realised then that I didn't want people to speak of me after I'm gone. I wanted to tell my story while I'm alive. The second was when a Bollywood producer said he'd written the script of my biopic by“Googling” me. That jolted me. There were hundreds of stories about me on the Internet and I didn't want them to be depicted as my story. I wanted to put my truth in my own words, not through someone else's imagination.

You wrote the book in 13 days. That's extraordinary considering how much you had to recall and document. What was that process like?

I took a 13-day break from everything, locked myself away, and wrote for 14 hours a day. It wasn't easy. At one point, I crashed physically because my body couldn't handle the rush of memories. But when I finished, I felt light, relieved, grateful. I realised that every harm done to me had, in some way, shaped me. It wasn't a book of bitterness; it became a book of gratitude. I was not depleted. I was strangely uplifted.

Gratitude towards those who hurt you?

Yes. Every attempt to break me actually made me stronger. It made me a better person, strategist, activist. Those who harmed me helped forge my resilience. My writing turned into a journey of thankfulness, because I realised even the pain I'd endured had its purpose.

Was revisiting your past emotionally difficult?

Very difficult. Memories can be toxic. But I knew I had to process them so that the book would carry hope and possibility, not anger. I wanted readers to see that even in the darkest circumstances, there can be transformation. When I finished, I didn't feel drained. I felt uplifted. It was as if I'd finally laid down a lifelong burden.

Did you have to hold back or tone down anything for the reader?

The book is unfiltered, but with intention. I didn't include the gruesome details of my own assault, because they don't matter

anymore. What matters is what came after, when I wrote about the children I rescued, I didn't tone those down. People need to understand what sex slavery truly means before making casual remarks like“let's legitimise it as work”. The book needed to reveal those realities truthfully but purposefully.

What was it like for you to be recognised for such a book at the Sharjah International Book Fair?

Incredible. The least expected region became the one that honoured me. One of the jurors told me,“Every page of your book is imprinted on my mind.” She said she wanted her daughter and her daughter's daughter to read it. That kind of response humbled me deeply. The award isn't just about my writing; it's about acknowledging a difficult subject that has long been pushed under the carpet. A book of this kind being accepted and honoured, that is a game changer for the mission I am on.

What do you hope I am what I am will achieve beyond its current success in India?

I definitely wish the book reaches a larger audience. I couldn't find a publisher outside India, though the Malayalam version, Njan Njan Thanne, is out. But I'd love to see translations that can take it to the world. It's not just my personal story that has come at the right time. I think it's the right moment for the world, too. In these turbulent times of war and violence, we all need a book of hope and possibility.

Your book chronicles your 50-year journey. How do you view that journey now?

It's been guided divinely, I believe. Everything in my life has happened at the right time, with the right people. I didn't plan the chapters; they flowed on their own. Each night I would dream of names and faces, and the next morning those became my chapters. It was almost mystical. When I finished, I realised the book wasn't just my story, it was Prajwala's story too: how two people, without money or resources, began a movement that now spans hundreds. I wanted readers to see that change begins with a small, uncertain step.

In your book, you've laid bare your vulnerabilities and even your flaws. Why was that important for you to include?

For something to change, you need to start. And you can't start from a place where everything is already laid out. You begin not knowing anything, and in the process, in the journey, you learn. You fall, you fall a hundred times. That's what my book is about.

I've exposed my vulnerabilities, my defects, the ways I haven't always been fair to people. Because people see me today, after 35 years, and make a hero out of me. A demigod, as if I'm God's gift to humanity. I wanted them to see the real person behind all that: someone who's human, who makes mistakes, and who's learned from every fall.

You've been called one of the world's most courageous women. Where does that courage come from?

Courage isn't the absence of fear. It's not allowing fear to consume you. I do feel fear but I look it in the eye and move forward with it. Earlier, I carried a lot of emotional baggage when people tried to harm me. Now I see their motives, I understand their humanity. That awareness makes me compassionate, not bitter.

You often speak of death as something you don't fear. Does that perspective fuel your courage?

I think death is the only truth in life. I don't worry about how long I'll live; I care about how I live. I take one moment at a time. If today is all I have, I want to spend it doing what I'm meant to do, serving my cause. That keeps fear from taking over.

What do you hope readers take away from I am what I am ?

Different readers find different things. Some say it changed their life vision; others say it should be mandatory reading in schools to understand hope. If readers take away one thing, I want it to be this: Every adversity carries an opportunity. Every human being has the potential to survive, conquer, and move forward not as a victim, but as a victor. If Sunitha Krishnan could do it, anyone can.

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