PVLF 2025

Interview With Uma Lohray, Author of “ The One Way Ships”

Uma's The One-Way Ships uncovers forgotten ayahs' lives with emotional depth, blending history and fiction to amplify women's voices across time.
on Jul 03, 2025

Frontlist: Your debut novel The One-Way Ships sheds light on the forgotten lives of baby ayahs during the British Raj. What drew you to this overlooked slice of history?

Uma: It all began with a brief article I read about the Blue Plaque unveiled at the site of the Ayahs’ Home in Hackney. The name alone made me pause—Ayahs’ Home? Who were these women, and why did they need a home in England? That question led me down a rabbit hole of research, and each discovery pulled me in deeper. I came across several resources and the work of scholars that offered historical fragments concerning these women and found many references to them in the writings of British authors from the Raj era, often only in passing. It struck me how vital they were to the machinery of empire and yet how little space they occupied in its recorded history. That absence, that silence—and the fact that so many of us in India are unaware of this history—was what pulled me in. I wanted to imagine one of these lives more fully and bring her voice to the center through the device of a novel.

Frontlist: You transitioned from a career in law to writing fiction. What finally pushed you to tell Asha’s story—and why now?

Uma: Two parallel currents led to The One-Way Ships. On the one hand, the more I read about the history of Indian ayahs, the more unjust it seemed that something so human, so complex, and so crucial to our history and the empire had slipped through the cracks of public memory and discourse. It felt like fiction might be the most effective way to bring this story to light—to open a door into this subject and hopefully guide readers towards the academic writing and scholarly work that has preserved these fragments.

On the other hand, there was something more personal: I had always wanted to write, but I had imagined I would do so “one day,” as though it belonged to some future version of myself. But during the pandemic, when the pace of life changed, I wondered—why not now? Why keep waiting for “later”?

Frontlist: The title The One-Way Ships is evocative and layered. What does it symbolize for you in the context of the story and its characters?

Uma: The title came quite early, and it stayed. On a literal level, it refers to the journeys the ayahs made — voyages that were often just one-way, whether the ayahs expected to return or not. But more than that, it captures the emotional undertow of the book. For Asha and others like her, these journeys weren’t just across oceans; they were shifts in identity, language, and belonging. Once you’ve crossed a certain threshold, it’s not always possible to go back — not to a place, not to a version of yourself. The “one-way” also speaks to the power of destiny — how fate can sometimes take us on an irreversible trajectory.

Frontlist: Asha’s journey is one of resilience, identity, and survival. How much of her emotional arc was informed by your own experiences as a woman navigating life’s transitions?

Uma: Asha’s world is very far from mine her options are far more limited by her class, her race, her age, and the colonial systems that shape her fate. Today, our lives are fortunate in ways hers could never be. And yet, I do believe that specific emotional questions about belonging, invisibility, dignity, self-determination, and reclaiming the arc or the story of your life remain universal.

Asha’s journey is about learning to trust her voice and finding her place in a world she’s unfamiliar with. She carries resolve, longing, quiet hope, and the ache of not knowing where she truly belongs. I hope readers, especially young women, will recognize something of themselves in that emotional terrain. The context is different, but the questions she lives with are still ours.

Frontlist: Motherhood, the pandemic, and slowing down all seem to have played a role in the birth of this book. How did that personal phase shape the writing process?

Uma: That period brought with it a kind of stillness I hadn’t known in years—if ever. The constant motion of work, deadlines, and daily noise gave way, and a lot surged in to fill the silence. Motherhood had already begun to shift my perspective on care, and the story about surrogate mothers who found themselves indispensable resonated even more strongly at that stage in my life.

Writing during that time was anything but methodical! I cobbled together a draft whenever I could—a paragraph during the baby’s nap, a scene scribbled on my phone while brushing my teeth! However, once the story began to take shape, its completion felt inevitable, and it became easier as I progressed.

Frontlist: Your novel beautifully blends historical depth with intimate storytelling. What challenges did you face in balancing research with fiction?

Uma: Thank you! On the balance between research and fiction — I always felt a strong responsibility to remain faithful to the historical context. I spent a great deal of time researching, reading everything I could about British social life in the hill stations, the history and geography of Shimla, the passenger ships used by the P&O Steam Navigation Company, the sea route from Mumbai to England, and, of course, the histories of the ayahs and the Ayahs’ Home in London. But fiction offered a different kind of access it let me explore emotional truths that a record alone can’t fully convey. Asha herself is a fictional character, but the world she inhabits is grounded in documented practices and patterns. I didn’t invent the setting, but I created a character who could move through it in a way that feels emotionally authentic. The history provides the framework, but the story is personal.

At times, I was tempted to go deeper into the stories of ayahs who never reached the Ayahs’ Home. But doing so would have meant leaning more heavily into speculation, and I wanted to keep the narrative anchored in what felt historically plausible and emotionally coherent. Still, their fate is briefly mentioned in the novel, and I hope readers are left with a sense of curiosity about their lives.

Frontlist: Do you feel The One-Way Ships got the attention it deserved, especially given how rare and rich its subject matter is? What do you wish had gone differently?

Uma: It’s a strange feeling. On the one hand, I’m incredibly moved by the readers who have written in, saying Asha’s story has stayed with them. It’s been humbling to see the attention the book has received online from reviewers and web portals. On the other hand, I know this isn’t a “viral” book. It’s quiet. It asks for patience. It deals with a chapter of history that most people didn’t know existed. So, in that sense, I do wish it reaches more hands—especially among younger readers and in academic circles. But maybe some stories travel slowly but steadily. I’m at peace with that.

Frontlist: Now that your debut is out in the world, what stories are you hoping to explore next? Will historical fiction continue to be your canvas?

Uma: Part of the plot of my next work also takes place not in the present but during another interesting period in Indian history—though much more recent than the One-Way Ships. Indeed, in this way, the past continues to play a significant role in my work. However, I’m interested in history as the backdrop and context for the personal events that comprise the plot, with the focus more on the individual emotional aftermath. My next work explores themes of friendship and sisterhood, trauma, guilt, loss, and recovery—again, through a woman’s eyes.