I’ve always loved historical fiction – but most of it was set in Europe or England. The I did read a couple of take set in Mughal era – but what about my own heritage? Where were the historical fiction set in the heart of India?
As a storyteller, I have always been fascinated by ruins – the silence of collapsed roofs, the stories etched in stone. My long‑stalled historical fiction novel set in Vijayanagara has haunted me for years. Visiting Hampi and immersing myself in research has rekindled the passion to complete it. In this reflective blog, I share the reasons behind my project and how the feel of this “lost city” empowers my fiction journey.

Why Vijayanagara captured me

Reading about Hampi’s grandeur – its 1,600 monuments sprawled over 4,100 hectares, its Dravidian architecture and its mythic association with goddess Pampa – sparked my imagination years ago. The idea that a city once rivalled Rome and Constantinople yet was completely abandoned after 1565 presents rich dramatic tension. I wanted to explore not just palaces and battles but the lives of ordinary people caught between devotion and destruction.

Research as foundation and inspiration

Returning to the novel meant that I has to ground fiction on fact. That’s just me, as a technical author, I need to have the facts right before I can write. I pored over reports describing the urban layout and studied various verions of histories of the empire’s fall. Visiting Hampi, I watched sunlight glaze the stone chariot at Vittala Temple and heard the cries of eagles mounting up from the granite boulders. I rode and twirled in the coracle ride across the Tungabhadra River, imagining a character fleeing as invaders approached. The fear of the whirlpool was real – you can see my face grimacing in fear! Running my hands over the stone tablets etched with details in ancient Kannada and Telugu I could almost feel the stories entering my being,

Facing the “vanished empire”

One of the challenges in writing about Vijayanagara is conveying both its splendour and its transience. The Battle of Talikota may end my timeline, but the empire’s decline continued as regional powers asserted independence. In the novel, protagonists witness the city’s transformation from bustling capital to ghostly ruin. Understanding the complex causes – misrule, betrayal and economic shifts – allows me to craft believable motivations for characters and to avoid simplistic good‑versus‑evil tropes.

Personal motivations and creative hurdles

Life and work slowed my progress on the manuscript, but the pandemic and the rise of generative AI made me question the role of human creativity. Returning to Hampi reminded me why I began: there is an intimacy in reconstructing a forgotten world. Fiction allows me to explore what historians cannot – the inner lives, emotions and struggles of those who might have lived and moved and vanished in the fabulous city. This is not the imagination of cities of LOTR. These are real.

Renewed commitment

Armed with new research and sensory memories, I am ready to breathe life back into my story. I plan to balance factual detail with narrative flow, using the two‑day Hampi itinerary as a structural device in one chapter and weaving in cultural elements like Hampi Utsav. Driving the dusty road to Hampi reminded me of the isolation that must have protected and isolated the city in equal measure. My blog series will act as both research notebook and creative manifesto.

Conclusion

Writing historical fiction is both challenging and rewarding. It requires respecting facts while letting imagination fill gaps. Hampi’s ruins, myths and documented history offer a rich canvas. By sharing my journey and research, I hope to inspire fellow writers and to remind myself that stories, like empires, can be revived with dedication and curiosity.

As I guide writers in my retreats, I often remind them that every book has its lost city — a place waiting to be rediscovered. Returning to Hampi reminded me of my own.