REVIEW

Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar’s Skin Over Milk is a cathartic family saga, told through a dozen bite-sized chapters, about nine-year-old Chutki and her older sisters.

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While “saga” and “a dozen bite-sized chapters” may seem an unlikely pairing for describing the same book, they aptly describe the rich, intergenerational world Chansarkar conjures in this flash novelette. Chansarkar quickly pins character and place with pointed, memorable attributes. On page one, we learn that Chutki’s name literally means “younger one,” and her sisters’ names, Badki and Manjhli, mean “older one” and “middle one,” respectively. This spot-on detail fully primes the reader for what’s to come—a story about a complicated family ruled by an abusive father with strict notions about the station and utility of women.

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Through Chutki’s eyes, we explore the world she and her older sisters inhabit, the three of them bonded by their shared filial duties and near constant proximity. We learn about their small, rainy town in northern India, their parents’ fraught marriage, their mother’s delicate health, their maternal grandmother’s negative opinions about women. We meet Dada, their paternal grandfather, who dotes on the sisters until his passing (and even after, the girls declaring he’s a star in the night sky), and later, Naani, their erudite maternal grandmother, whose home becomes a refuge when the sisters need it most. Chansarkar imbues her narrative with an expansive sense that every story leads to another story. We learn family lore, neighborhood gossip. We learn to fear their father as the girls do, and crave their mother’s attention. We bristle at how much better their brothers are treated, and yet understand few of us get to choose the facts of our world.

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Ultimately, Skin Over Milk is a story about women helping women. Mothers and daughters. Sisters. Neighbors and friends. And it’s in women-centered spaces where the sisters experience some of their most cherished memories. Laughter in the rain. Giggles in the kitchen. Prank-calling neighborhood housewives during Ramadan, their mother unexpectedly (delightfully!) joining in. And the unforgettable, beautifully wrought mango festival where the sisters, Naani, and ten other women smear each other with overripe fruit pulp, Chutki declaring: We were happy women, free women, shouting-in-glee women.

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Joy. Sorrow. Love. Apathy. Death. New chances. This is life, Chansarkar suggests, and we, her readers, cannot help but admire her lens and adore her protagonists—bright young girls whose futures expand before us despite the odds.

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Book Details

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Skim Over Milk can be purchased here.

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Published by Chestnut Review Chapbooks, this book comprises 59 pages, including acknowledgments. The volume measures 6" x 9" and features stunning cover art by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad.

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