Books

lula-the-man-the-myth-and-a-dream-of-latin-america-review-unpacking-the-extraordinary-life-of-lula-da-silva

Sat Mar 28 15:18:42 IST 2026

Luiz Inazio Lula de Silva is not just another President of Brazil. He is the first one to rise from abject poverty, breaking a long tradition of leadership dominated by political and economic elites.

The oligarchic business families could not imagine the country being ruled by a leftist trade unionist from a poor family without a college education. Their reaction is brought out poignantly in this story. During his first election campaign, Lula was passing by the side of an elite school in a rich neighbourhood. One of the students shouted “vote for Lula”. Taken by surprise, Lula thanked the boy but asked him why was a boy from a rich family support a leftist candidate. The boy replied, “Señor Lula. My father is a wealthy businessman. He says that if you get elected, you will ruin the business and the country with your leftist policies. He has promised to shift the family to Miami, if you were elected as president. I Love Miami”.
Lula has become president for the third time, overcoming the initial apprehensions of the businessmen. In fact, he has become a darling of the business community by promoting their interests both within and outside the country by including large delegations in his state visits. There were over 300 businessmen who had accompanied President Lula during his latest visit to India in February this year.

Richard Lapper, the author of the book, brings out vividly the long and incredible journey of Lula from a dirt poor family in the backward, arid and remote north east part of the country to the presidential palace in Brasilia. Lula’s journey starts in an old beaten up truck through 2500 kms of rough roads from his native village Caetés in the impoverished region of Pernambuco to São Paulo. Lula was seven years old during this 1952 journey along with his six siblings and mother as well as other emigrating neighbours. Desperate to escape the poverty that had been exacerbated by two years of drought, his mother, Dona Lindu, was eager to rejoin her husband Aristides Inácio da Silva, who had made the same trip seven years earlier and got a job in Santos port near São Paulo . She sold the family’s plot of land, the primitive shack, the cow and the donkey to make the trip and join her husband. The difficult, back-breaking journey, mainly over dirt roads, was an epic of endurance that would take 13 days.

On arriving at Santos, Dona Lindu found that her husband was living with a new wife. He was angry with the surprise arrival of his family. While he gave some financial support, he became abusive and started beating up the first wife and her children. So she moved away from the husband and started a new life with her children who started working. Lula, joined one of his brothers in selling peanuts, oranges, and a coconut sweet called cocada on the streets in Santos. After a few years of schooling, he found a part-time position as an office boy in a small company.

Lula became a lathe operator after training in a public apprentice scheme and gradually got involved in a growing labour movement during the late 1960s, persuaded by his older brother Frei Chico who was a Communist Party member. After founding and then leading the trade union-based Workers’ Party (PT), Lula stated his political career. He stood in the election for membership of the São Paulo state legislature in 1982 and lost. In 1986, he got elected to the Federal Congress. He ran for president three times in 1989, 1994 and 1998 unsuccessfully. After this, many had written off Lula, dismissing him as an old-style labour unionist, out of touch with the new, more liberal and market-friendly public mood. But Lula surprised his critics. He moderated his goals, dropped the rabble-rousing tone that had marked his first forays into politics, and then surged to success. After winning the presidency twice successively in the 2002 and 2006, Lula left office in January 2011 with his popularity sky-high and as something of an international star. His success in maintaining economic stability, reducing poverty, and improving living standards was applauded by the Brazilians. He had evolved his own governance and development model called as Lulaism or Brasilia Consensus which was a balanced, pragmatic and mature mix of pro-poor and business friendly policies. He believes that the country needs a vibrant private sector to create wealth and employment to supplement the government’s efforts. He stood out as a role model for Latin America, polarized by the confrontation between left and right.

Since the Brazilian constitution does not allow more than two consecutive presidential terms, Lula had got Dilma Rousseff elected to succeed him in 2010 and 2014. But she let him down by her naive and arrogant political style and mismanagement. She was impeached by the right-wing members of the Congress on a an insignificant budget management error. Lula was put in jail on some trumped-up charges by the judges and prosecutors with a political agenda to discredit Lula and PT. This created an opportunity for Bolsonaro, the extreme rightist, to come to power as president in the 2018 elections. Bolsonaro went on to deepen political polarization and tarnish the country’s image, with his Trump-like combative, coarse and divisive policies..After spending 580 days in jail, Lula got exonerated and returned to politics . He won the presidency again in the October 2022 elections and has announced his intention to contest in the October 2026 election.

But Lula is now a fading star and his political party PT has lost lot of voters. While Lula won in

the last election, the PT suffered losses even in their strongholds. There have been some corruption cases in recent years, recalling the public memory of the notorious Car Wash scandal. But Lula’s image got a boost after his successful stand against Trump’s tariffs and bullying.

The country has changed drastically with the rise of the Bible, Beef and Bullet constituencies which control the Congress and move the political agenda of the country. The poor who voted earlier for Lula have been hijacked by the new Evangelical churches, who have increased their sway over nearly one-third of the population. The powerful unions of the manufacturing industries have been overshadowed by the service workers of the digital economy. Lula’s rhetoric does not appeal to the young population as it did to their parents. On the contrary, the new generation has been completely consumed by the false narratives and fake news in the social media dominated by extremist rightists and influencers.

So it would be challenging for the 80-year-old Lula to win in the coming election in October this year. But he might defy the odds, as he had done many times in his life.

Lapper has also given a detailed account of the rise of Marina Silva, who has a similar story like Lula. Born in a poor rubber tapper family in the Amazon, she rose to become the Minister of the Environment and Climate Change for the first five and a half years of Lula’s presidency. She even contested the presidential elections on her own in 2010, 2014 and 2018 but was unsuccessful.

Lapper has narrated the journey of Lula in the larger context of the history of Brazil, starting from the colonial period to the current situation in 2026.

He has given a fairly objective and balanced portrait of Lula in this book. I found his earlier book Bible, Beef and Bullets: Brazil in the age of Bolsonaro”(published in 2021) also as informative and non-partisan.

Lapper’s perspectives are refreshingly free from the typical Western prejudices. This is because of Lapper’s own long journey. As a British student, he was fascinated by Marxism and the sociopolitical situation in Latin America. He took to academia and left-wing activism before becoming a journalist. He had learned Spanish and worked as a correspondent for nearly two years in El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua, attracted by the excitement of the revolutions sweeping through those countries. He was the Latin America editor of Financial Times for 10 years and had lived in Brazil between 2003 and 2011. Most importantly, he is married to a Brazilian. He had gained first hand knowledge of the Brazilians through interaction with the extended family and friends on his wife’s side. Since leaving the FT, he has continued to visit Brazil regularly, spending up to a quarter of the year there.

Lapper’s book, which has just been published in February 2026, is a valuable additional source for those following Lula, Brazil and Latin America.

on-the-future-of-species-book-review-ai-in-biological-engineering--a-twin-edged-knife

Sat Mar 28 13:17:53 IST 2026

Using an impressive blend of scientific knowledge and literary skills, Adrian Woolfson’s ‘On the Future of Species – Authoring Life by Means of Artificial Biological Intelligence’ crafts a deeply insightful take on one of the most momentous questions of our era. The book is sweeping in scope and imagination, detailing how the parallel paths of genome engineering and AI have been heading over the past century towards a potentially tumultuous convergence zone.

Humanity will soon stand at the brink of deciphering hitherto elusive instruction manuals of species from their genome sequences. Once capable of analysing the ‘genetic symphonies’ that give rise to much of life’s complexities, we could unlock the secrets of genomes and learn how to use the generative power conveyed by the mastery of the language of genomes for the benefit of humankind. Through a compelling narrative, Woolfson charts this story through much of what has happened so far, leading readers to a breathtaking view of what may be possible in the future.

Decoding the complex programming language of genomes lies far beyond human capability. It requires the extensive utilisation of AI to identify patterns in vast genome datasets that cannot be perceived by human minds. From constructing models of how genomes operate to helping us author new genetic scripts, the range and scale of AI applicability are mind-boggling, albeit scary. Humankind could one day even learn to define what today lies beyond the boundaries of natural biology, writing ‘code to build mermaids and fairies’.

Considering living organisms as biological machines operating through computations coded in genome databases, Artificial Biological Intelligence (ABI) that can be built using ‘large language of life’ models would have a profound impact, once editing or rewriting genetic codes is made possible. However, like any other engineering process, this would involve making biological systems more modular and predictable, thus reducing their inherent complexity, streamlining their designs and unravelling interdependencies lying within, to increase their engineerability.

Without an exhaustive understanding, the only way to assess the results of such rewritten or modified codes would be to ‘run’ the programs and generate genomically rewritten specimens, a scenario that would be ethically indefensible. Once transposed to humankind, the question is further mired in controversy – is there no intrinsic sanctity to the naturally evolved human genome? Is it not just simply wrong to attempt to permanently repair, replace or redesign anything, other than perhaps the most minimal corrective changes?

The book explores biology’s likely future frontiers, analysing opportunities for the utilisation of ABI in rewriting genomes, studying the design of species and developing tools to permanently cure most or all Mendelian diseases to benefit humankind. It cautions us to tread with extreme care while contemplating tinkering with the future of species or attempting to tweak the human genome. It concludes by proposing a manifesto for life, which advocates respecting Nature’s mysteries and the preservation of species and habitats, while also being open to the possibility of carefully and conscientiously engineering certain aspects for the common good and benefit of society.

the-unbecoming-book-review-a-familiar-spiritual-quest-gets-a-contemporary-spin

Thu Mar 26 19:45:52 IST 2026

In popular imagination—across fiction and philosophy alike—the story of ‘unbecoming’ continues to hold a strong appeal: the shedding of the self, the unlearning and relearning, the search for purpose, and self-discovery, if not enlightenment itself.

There have been many Siddharthas who have walked this path: from the prince-turned-monk Siddhartha Gautama to the restless seeker in Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse.

In The Unbecoming, written by advocate and author Kartikeya Vajpai, Siddharth is a charismatic yet self-absorbed and egoistic cricketer, troubled not by the sufferings around him but the one within: his failing form, which costs the Indian cricket team dearly and dents his own standing.

After a crucial loss, he turns his anger on his long-time coach, Ajay Goswami, who has been with him since his early days, guiding him through every high and low. Their very public fallout not only severs a deeply rooted relationship but also leaves both men adrift—perhaps Ajay more so than Siddharth.

While Siddharth remains largely oblivious to the depth of his coach’s influence, Ajay is left grappling with a more existential loss: if he is no longer a coach, then who is he?

“What am I?” is the question the novel persistently asks, through both Ajay and Siddharth.

While Siddharth carries the name of Siddhartha Gautama, the journey of unbecoming unfolds more fully through Ajay. He comes to embody the parts of ourselves we suppress while playing around the identities we construct.

“Life is limitless, as are your possibilities. Stop drawing boundaries around yourself that confine you to a fixed identity,” the novel suggests.

It is this search that takes Ajay to McLeodganj, home to the Dalai Lama. Siddharth follows years later, embarking on a different—if less ego-driven—path towards understanding himself and finding his purpose.

It is a story that has been told many times, and yet manages to feel fresh: a testimony both to its enduring appeal and to the depth of India’s spiritual traditions, which continue to draw seekers from across the world.

The Unbecoming doesn’t delve too deeply into the mechanics of spiritual transformation. Instead, it roots itself in the more immediate struggles of contemporary life, such as ego, ambition, and greed, and offers some compelling reflections—particularly on identity and the ways in which it confines rather than expands us.

As Ajay’s guru tells him: “You’ve exhausted all the potential from that character and role. It’s no longer contributing to your growth as an individual.”

However, the writing occasionally tips into the preachy. There are stretches where ideas pile on top of each other, becoming dense.

While the story centres around Siddharth, it’s Ajay who emerges as more well-rounded and fully-realised as a character. Siddharth’s arc, on the other hand, feels comparatively underdeveloped.

For instance, it is difficult to fully grasp the roots of his ego. As a result, his ultimate journey of shedding the self lacks emotional weight. Ajay’s trajectory, in contrast, carries far greater depth. His inner turmoil is dealt with more nuance, making his turn towards monkhood both believable and affecting.

The novel is an easy read. However, some parts, simple and fluid otherwise, are punctuated by heavy, formal vocabulary that feels out of place.

In all, The Unbecoming is a light, accessible read. It may not be the most compelling Siddharth story out there, but it is a thoughtful enough addition to the genre, particularly for readers seeking something reflective and simple.

Title: The Unbecoming

Publisher: Ebury Press

Pages: 189

Price: Rs 499

gopal-gureja-customer-service-book

Thu Mar 26 16:00:26 IST 2026

Gopal K. Gureja’s Customer Service Edge: Find and Fill Policy-Practice Gaps presents a rigorous and insightful exploration of a fundamental limitation in contemporary business practice-the persistent gap between organisational intent and operational reality.

Drawing upon extensive empirical research and decades of professional experience, Gopal K. Gureja delivers a compelling critique of how customer-centric policies often fail in execution, and more importantly, how such failures can be systematically addressed.

A seasoned customer service professional and author, Gureja has been closely associated with the evolution of after-sales service management in India throughout his corporate career, bringing both practical insight and strategic depth to his analysis.

The central premise of the book revolves around a critical inquiry: why do clearly articulated customer service policies fail to translate into consistent practice?

In an era where customer-first rhetoric dominates corporate communication, Gureja exposes the uncomfortable truth that many organisations remain disconnected from the actual experiences they deliver.

Supported by findings from a structured study involving 200 respondents, the book identifies multiple underlying causes of this disconnect, including ineffective communication channels, inconsistent leadership behaviour, inadequate review systems, low employee engagement, and conflicting organisational signals.

Among the book’s most significant conceptual contributions is the notion of cultural schizophrenia. This term encapsulates a condition wherein an organisation’s professed commitment to customer satisfaction is not reinforced by its internal processes, operational frameworks, or managerial priorities.

Such misalignment creates an environment of contradiction, where employees are uncertain about expectations and customers encounter inconsistency in service delivery. Gureja effectively demonstrates that this internal dissonance is not incidental but systemic, and if left unaddressed, it undermines both credibility and competitiveness.

The discussion on communication further strengthens the book’s analytical depth. Gureja argues that communication failures, whether in clarity, consistency, or feedback mechanisms, are among the most critical contributors to the policy–practice gap.

Particularly noteworthy is his observation on feedback management. When customers or employees provide input but are not informed about how it is processed or acted upon, organisations inadvertently create dissatisfaction rather than engagement. This overlooked psychological dimension highlights the importance of closing not just operational gaps, but also perceptual ones.

Equally important is the author’s emphasis on institutional discipline as a corrective framework. Gureja calls for a renewed commitment to organisational discipline, where policies are not merely declared but actively reinforced through structured processes and leadership accountability.

This discipline involves careful management of employee-related issues to enhance engagement, ensuring that relevant knowledge is available at the point of action, and maintaining visible and sustained involvement of senior leadership. The emphasis on leadership is particularly significant, as it reinforces the idea that customer-centricity must be embedded at the highest levels of decision-making.

What distinguishes Customer Service Edge from conventional management literature is its strong practical orientation. The book goes beyond theoretical diagnosis and provides actionable strategies to improve service quality, strengthen customer retention, and align internal operations with declared policies.

It addresses key functional areas such as training, process optimisation, internal coordination, and backend support systems, all supported by real-world case insights that enhance its applicability.

The writing is marked by clarity, precision, and intellectual coherence, making the book accessible to both practitioners and academic readers. Gureja’s ability to integrate empirical research with experiential knowledge lends the work both credibility and relevance. His arguments are not only persuasive but also grounded in observable organisational realities.

Customer Service Edge stands as a significant contribution to the discourse on customer service management. It challenges organisations to critically examine the gap between what they promise and what they deliver, and to adopt a disciplined, organisation-wide approach to bridge this divide. By focusing on the imperative of aligning policy with practice, Gureja offers a strategic framework for achieving sustainable competitive differentiation.

Customer Service Edge: Find and Fill Policy-Practice Gaps

Author: Gopal K. Gureja

Publisher: notionpress.com

Price: ₹545

Pages: 412

indian-aircraft-industry-review-a-deep-dive-into-indias-aerospace-journey

Mon Mar 16 20:31:03 IST 2026

In the post-COVID years, particularly when air travel began to boom in India and all across the world, the two biggies that account for 9 out of 10 civilian aircraft in the world, Europe’s Airbus and America’s Boeing, suddenly found themselves woefully running a backlog on their expanding order sheet.

On one side, the travel bug that had bit a sizeable chunk of human beings after months of lockdown and varying levels of restrictions, which saw them cooped up indoors, meant flights were going full, and airlines couldn’t have enough of the aircraft that were rolling out of production lines. But then, to make matters worse, both the manufacturers faced a disruption in the supply chain due to their pruning down of workflow after the pandemic hit, which meant they were simply not able to churn out planes fast enough to satiate the world’s airlines and their customers.

Making matters worse were engine and other issues being reported from some of the workhorse models like Dreamliner and 737MAX, as well as workers' strikes at some plant or another.

It was at this point that a question that had always bubbled under the surface in the aeronautics field in India suddenly popped over onto the mainstream — why is it that India, forget manufacturing its own planes, had not even made a sizeable attempt?

C.G. Krishnadas Nair, in his latest book ‘Indian Aircraft Industry’ sets any doubts on this topic to rest with his exhaustive tome to India’s aircraft manufacturing past. And sets the cat among the pigeons by pointing out the historical opportunities lost, and detailing a way forward.

Nair is no plain expert or observer. A doyen of India’s aerospace and defence sector, he helmed Hindustan Aeronautics or HAL for nearly a decade during a pivotal moment in history — when India was stepping out of the licence raj of governmental controls, and taking baby steps into the free-for-all of competition and market economics. Nair quietly but efficiently diversified HAL’s staid flightpath from being a government sector player in defence manufacturing into an innovative R&D-led sarkari player that didn’t scare away from doing the tango with the private sector and supply chain partners. He was also the founding president of the Society of Indian Aerospace Technologies and Industries (SIATI) as well as the Society of Defence Entrepreneurs and Technologists.

The book ‘Indian Aircraft Industry’ is a detailed compendium of India’s long aviation track record, which, as the many models and historical records he lays out make amply clear, was not just limited to being a consumer, but very much a technology upstart that tried its best even when policy, know-how and market economics were pitted against it. As Nair himself says in the preface, there are barely a couple of books documenting the Indian aircraft industry, and the last one came out in the previous century. Despite the odds stacked against it, Indian aerospace has soared high since then.

One of the biggest positive, which was also a negative, in this track record, has been the focus on defence production. Despite proven expertise in making civilian aircraft, too, many World War II era Dakotas were converted for use as commercial domestic flights by HAL in the initial years of India’s independence. But for the Indian government, the priority was defence production and coming out with enough and new aircraft to protect the fledgling new nation’s skies.

While that policy meant HAL threw its energy and strength, it did crimp any aspiration the nation could have had in becoming a commercial aviation manufacturer — the way countries like China and Brazil today have, even if the likes of COMAC and Embraer is still no match to Airbus or Boeing.

Nair touches upon all this and also methodically lists down future scenarios, including challenges and opportunities, as ‘Make in India’ hits the aerospace scene, too, better late than never. The book is textbookish in its aspirations, making one wonder whether it could have found a larger audience if it was given a coffee table treatment by the publishers — after all, who wouldn’t mind a finely printed glossy book filled with pictures of plane models? Nevertheless, even in its present form, it is very much a resource which will serve India’s aerospace industry in good stead, both as a reminder as well as a guiding light, as it takes sturdy steps into the unknown.

Indian Aircraft Industry (A Brief History and the Way Forward)

Written by: Prof Dr C.G. Krishnadas Nair

Price: Rs 950

Pages: 273

Published by: Society for Aerospace Studies; printed at Navbharath Press, Bengaluru

glocal-terror-in-south-asia-review

Wed Mar 11 23:00:17 IST 2026

In retaliation for the killing of 26 tourists in Pahalgam, Kashmir, in April last year, India carried out strikes in Pakistan under what was called Operation Sindoor. One of the targets was Muridke, a town near Pakistan’s cultural capital, Lahore, that hosts the headquarters of the terror group Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT).

When seen in isolation, this may seem like yet another episode in the fraught relationship between India and Pakistan. Retired IPS officer Anju Gupta, however, places it within a wider realm of “glocal” terror — an intersection of local and global issues, of local militant networks and global jihadist movements. This is the theme she explores in her recent book ‘Glocal Terror in South Asia: Tracing the Roots in Geopolitics and the Tragedy of Afghanistan’ (Simon & Schuster India).

The actors in this story are many, spanning ethnicities, nations, and decades. There are the architects of Al-Qaeda – Osama bin Laden and Abdullah Azzam, followed by the more recent Ayman al-Zawahiri. There is the Egypt-born cleric Omar Abdel-Rahman, better known as the “Blind Sheikh”, convicted for his role in the 1993 World Trade Centre bombing. Alongside them appear the founders of the Taliban, Mullah Omar and Abdul Ghani Baradar, as well as figures based in or with links to Pakistan, such as Hafiz Saeed, Masood Azhar, David Headley, Tahawwur Hussain Rana, and Ramzi Yousef.

While the 9/11 attacks, in which 3,000 were killed, and the subsequent ‘War on Terror’ by the United States, are often seen as watershed moments, Gupta traces the origins of contemporary jihadist networks, which shaped the region considerably, further back. Two events especially stood out – the UN’s 1947 plan to partition Palestine into Jewish and Arab states, and the more decisive Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in December 1979. The latter, Gupta argues, especially drew large numbers of Arab fighters to Afghanistan, and they came to be known as “Arab Afghans”.

“This drastically changed the narrative of local jihad into a global jihad,” she writes. “The leadership and core fighters of the global terror network of Al Qaeda, and later of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), emerged from this pool of Arab Afghans,” she further notes, and suggests that while other conflicts, most notably Palestine, were ongoing, none drew Arab fighters on the scale seen in Afghanistan.

The role of three key actors was crucial: the US, which armed and funded the Afghan mujahideen; Saudi Arabia, which “agreed to match US financial aid to Afghan rebels”; and Pakistan, which provided sanctuary, training, and logistical support. Gupta examines their roles while simultaneously tracing how these efforts reshaped the region and laid the groundwork for the rise of modern jihadist movements.

“Al Qaeda, which came into being during the first Afghan jihad in Peshawar on 17 November 1988, fully emerged as a deadly global terror network by 11 September 2001,” she writes. “The Af-Pak region and South Asia deeply suffered on account of the seeds of terror sowed by Al Qaeda and nurtured by state and non-state actors of the region and beyond.”

The regional impact comes through most clearly in two chapters: The ‘Poster Boys of Glocal Jihad in Af-Pak,’ and the ‘Failed Kashmir Jihad’. In the former, she examines figures such as Masood Azhar and Hafiz Saeed, adding details that go beyond the commonly known narratives. She notes, for instance, that Saeed, accused by India and the United States of involvement in the 2008 Mumbai attacks, was once appointed by Pakistan’s former president Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq to an advisory body of the Government’s Council of Islamic Ideology. It was also a period when Pakistani society was undergoing major churn as Zia pushed policies of Islamisation.

And in the latter, she argues that the “holy jihad did not succeed because the Kashmiri consciousness was rooted in Sufism as well as in a distinct Kashmiri cultural identity.” While Gupta takes on a complex subject and navigates it with clarity, the book’s wide scope sometimes leads to explanations that may feel somewhat limited but strike at the roots of the ‘Failed Kashmir Jihad’.

She concludes the book by outlining several potential “black swan” scenarios, such as an internal revolt within the Pakistani Army, the emergence of Islamic State Khorasan Province as a global terror force from Pakistan, and a renewed US–Saudi–Pakistan strategic alignment shaping regional and global politics.

The text feels dense at times, and there are moments when you end up thinking “why,” with the book not offering any answers. This especially applies to Saudi Arabia’s motivations in the larger scheme. But Gupta largely avoids speculation. Apart from outlining a few potential “black swan” scenarios, she sticks closely to analysing the reports already in the public domain, while offering a fresh perspective on an ongoing global challenge.

Title: Glocal Terror in South Asia: Tracing the Roots in Geopolitics and the Tragedy of Afghanistan

Author: Anju Gupta

Publisher: Simon & Schuster India

Pages: 223

Price: Rs 699

through-a-diplomats-lens-book-review-insights-into-a-world-in-flux-and-the-new-international-order

Sun Mar 08 10:59:24 IST 2026

From the 16th century, when Hugo Grotius proposed a framework for international law, the nation-states began their journey towards an international order. However, this order goes through phases of stability and disarray. In each phase, nation-states struggle to realign their global perspective with the emerging new order. We are at present witnessing the disarray phase. Contemporary scholars and commentators on international affairs are characterising the present international disorder as unprecedented and more challenging than previous phases of change.

Through the Diplomat’s Lens, a seasoned Indian diplomat, Sudhir Tukaram Devare, reminds them that less than forty years ago, the international order had massively changed when the former Soviet Union collapsed, unfreezing the Cold War. Then also commentaries had used the hyperbolic -‘emergence of borderless world,’ 'peace dividend', ‘end of history’, ignoring that it was one of the cycles of periodical change in the international order.

Devare’s book, written in an understated style, recalls in vivid detail the period of disarray in the international order during the early 1990s, the impact of which was felt far and wide. The author was in vantage positions- first as a budding diplomat in both Moscow and Washington, the two poles of the Cold War.

The Soviet Union was ruled with an iron hand and was moving to create satellite states in Eastern Europe. As he honed his diplomatic skills, he was moved to Frankfurt in the western part of a divided Germany. From this vantage point, Devare was witness to the fall of the Berlin Wall, the eventual collapse of the Soviet Union and the emergence of a new map of Europe.

The author was roped in for assignments in Ukraine and other new states that emerged from the breakup of the Soviet Union. This part of the book is very interesting as it recounts how India, which was liberalising its state-controlled economy and was heavily dependent upon Soviet arms, attempted to read and recalibrate its diplomacy to take advantage of the yet unclear global order. Ukraine was an important part of the Soviet arms production chain. As an Indian envoy, Devare must have played a critical role in Indian efforts to gain access to Ukrainian defence production sources. In his book, he just notes it as part of his official duty.

The rewinding to that period offered by this book is useful in understanding the convulsions and concerns caused by President Trump’s America First policy, Russian President Putin’s aggressive postures, China’s rise as an eastern world power and India’s responses. The present disorder is not unprecedented, and a new international order is in the making.

The author’s tour of duty transports him to Seoul and Jakarta, where authoritarian rulers reigned supreme. Something below the surface was simmering in both countries. At one level, both were reorganising their economies-South Korea more than Indonesia. At the political level, popular discontent surfaced and overthrew the authoritarian regimes. Representing the world’s most populous democracy, the author was witness to the roar of democracy in both countries. These countries had tapped into the electronic revolution and export-led growth.

The author’s description of India’s ancient religious and cultural links - mainly Buddhist philosophy-with both South Korea and Indonesia is one interesting aspect. Another part touches upon the Indian diplomacy that had to substantially change track when the government of Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao quietly initiated his ‘Look East’ policy that resonated well with the regional powers. Devare was in Jakarta, the headquarters of ASEAN. He was one of the Indian diplomats in the region who all worked to make India's attempt to enter the ASEAN and APEC regional grouping successful. Devare usefully draws attention to the significance of the Look East policy in relation to the security and prosperity of the eight North East Indian states, whose geography and culture are intricately linked to India’s eastern neighbours.

The Author’s long stint in Sikkim and a posting as a Joint Secretary in the Foreign Ministry looking after India’s relations with Bangladesh and Myanmar eminently qualify him to offer insights about this vital subject.

As one of non- aligned India's envoys in a dynamic region, he gives an idea of the challenges which had to be met, pushing India’s interests in a region hitherto somewhat remote in India’s diplomatic radar. Not only that, but before this phase, there was an underlying distrust between the ASEAN members and India, as their relative distance from the Cold War powers varied.

His career culminated as Secretary ( Economic Relations ) in the External Affairs Ministry when the government led by Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee was expanding and deepening the 1991 economic reforms. In this section, the author opens the reader's eyes to the thinking that went behind the scenes of India’s foreign economic relations.

The book ends with a melodramatic recount of his visit to the Pacific island of Fiji, which was limited to a few days in relative confinement in the home of the Indian envoy. Obviously, this visit was undertaken in the context of a military coup in Fiji to wrest political power from the Indian diaspora in favour of the indigenous Fijians. This island in the vast and faraway Pacific Ocean is closer to India because of its Indian population, which accounts for over forty per cent of its inhabitants, playing an important role in its economy. In this section, however, I missed a fuller background to this development.

The merit of Sudhir Devare’s book, written some twenty years after his retirement, mainly lies in the fact that he could ruminate about significant events in world affairs against the backdrop of equally significant later developments like the Russo- Ukraine conflict, the march of democracy in Indonesia and South Korea, the rise of’ tiger economies’, and other such recent developments.

The reviewer is a former Principal Information Officer, Govt of India.

The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK.

rise-the-deep-resilience-way-book-review-neena-verma

Fri Feb 27 15:59:52 IST 2026

When I got hold of Neena Verma’s latest work, RISE: The ‘Deep Resilience’ Way, I noticed the stellar testimonials on the cover from personalities ranging from Olympian Abhinav Bhindra to MP Manoj Jha, and even Fortis Healthcare mental health chief Dr Samir Parikh. Just an hour into the book, I realised why these experts were lauding Verma’s writing.

As a facilitator of ‘deep resilience’, Verma lets us in on the truth of life—we need to own the storm, embrace it, to navigate through it. It is after this that she introduces the core concept of her book, RISE.

Restorative Adaptation, Imaginal Growth, Supple Strength, and Expansive Emergence, or RISE, is how we achieve it, Verma writes.

As she explains this, Verma constructs a model called the Wellspring of ‘Deep Resilience’, making it easy even for the uninitiated to follow along.

By the contents page alone, one might wonder if the book reads like coursework. It actually does the opposite. In fact, Verma personalises it so much that the human element in it makes for an enjoyable read, very much like her earlier work, Grief...Growth...Grace.

Verma introduces the concept of resilience quest through her transcended elder son Utkarsh’s journey, when he was just 12 years old. She recalls how it was Utkarsh’s innocent wisdom that kept her from drowning in her grief when she lost him to destiny in 2014. This heartwrenching account becomes a learning, and it imprints into you, the reader, a deep sense of how to navigate grief.

As for me, I connected it to how resilience became a learned behaviour in the years after I lost my mother rather unexpectedly. That time, at twenty—as a two-year-old adult—I had every reason to spiral. It was my ‘dandelion moment’. But I had a few good souls who instilled in me the resilient way. I was lucky, but I know many who aren’t. For them, Verma’s book becomes a gateway into how we evolve as people after treading the path of deep loss and grief.

From an experience of adversity, of trial, of trauma—a ‘dandelion moment’—Verma essays how we can recollect the scattered seeds of resilience, and blossom once again.

People are different, and they cope with feelings in different ways. Verma understands that and tailors the process to fit as many people as possible. The book, in itself, emerges as an exercise on accessibility, or grief can come in many ways, and not everyone has the tools to go through their personal storms.

In fact, Verma urges the reader to take professional help or guidance at apt points in the book where they could be overwhelmed. This show of empathy makes RISE not only an engaging read but also a great example of how to essay a complex topic to an audience who may be grasping at straws when faced with acute sadness and loss.

After each chapter, Verma provides an exercise called REAP—Resilience Embodiment And Practice—which takes you once more through the core concepts of the RISE methodology.

The publisher’s decision in the way they chose present these exercises and the infographics was my only bone to pick, but that is the page editor in me speaking. Hopefully, the next edition will take care of this. However, the human in me was too involved in the book to put too much weight on it.

There are 10 REAP modules in all, and they take you from acceptance to resilience in such a natural way that you feel lighter.

‘May hope, will, vision and grit be our muse,’ writes Verma as she closes the book with a bit of poetry.

For me, reading RISE was a wholesome experience... If you are young or old and grappling with a recent loss, this book might shed some light on how to move forward—not past it, but through.

RISE: The ‘Deep Resilience’ Way

By Neena Verma

Published by Rupa Publications

Price Rs 395; pages 278

the-alphabets-of-africa-book-review-a-journey-in-verse

Tue Mar 03 16:16:09 IST 2026

Africa is the oldest continent on Earth, the birthplace of humanity, home to some of the world’s most ancient civilisations, yet one of the most misrepresented places in the modern imagination. For too long, mainstream narratives have reduced this vast and diverse continent to images of hardship and conflict, overlooking its extraordinary history, culture, and vitality. For centuries, the continent has been reduced to stereotypes: poverty, conflict, and crisis.

Abhay K.’s latest poetry collection, The Alphabets of Africa, is a bold and beautiful attempt to change that narrative, one poem at a time.

This collection takes readers on a sweeping journey across Africa, through its ancient civilisations, living cultures, landscapes, and people. The alphabetical structure of the book, from A to Z, with each poem acting like a window into a different corner of the continent, gives the book the feeling of both a journey and a discovery, as though the reader is flipping through a living encyclopaedia of the African experience.

Abhay is not writing from the outside looking in; he draws from his own travels across Africa, and it shows. The poems reference remarkable moments in African history: the Narmer Palette, considered the world's first historical document; the ancient peace treaty between Ramses II and Hattusili III; and the legendary wealth of Mansa Musa, ruler of the Mali Empire. These are not facts dropped carelessly; they are woven into the poetry with care and reverence, reminding us that Africa has always been a cradle of human achievement.

One of the most powerful ideas running through the collection is that Africa is not just a continent; it is the origin of all of humanity. As Abhay himself noted at the book's launch at the Jaipur Literature Festival in January 2026, every human being carries African genes. This thought gives the poems a universal quality. Reading this book, you don’t feel like a visitor to a foreign land; you feel like you are returning home.

The language is accessible without being simple and lyrical without being difficult. The poet writes with warmth and wonder, and his poems invite even those unfamiliar with poetry to keep turning the pages.

One of the initial poems, Africa, immediately establishes the scope of the collection. Moving from “the ruins of Carthage to flourishing Cape Town,” from “the forlorn library of Timbuktu to the bustling old stone town of Zanzibar,” the poem sweeps across the continent in a series of powerful contrasts, finally arriving at a quiet but profound conclusion Africa is one, one as the Earth, one as the ocean, one as the sky.

Some poems are broad and panoramic, like Africa Is Everywhere, which reads almost like a manifesto urging the reader to open their “eyes, heart and mind” and recognise that Africa “has everything you can dream of”. Others are quiet and gentle. Amboseli, for instance, simply paints a peaceful scene, a baby elephant playing, two zebras standing close together, pink flamingos in the lake, and the great Mount Kilimanjaro watching silently in the distance. The poem makes no grand argument. It just lets the beauty speak for itself.

Other poems are tributes to iconic African figures. Ben Enwonwu, dedicated to the celebrated Nigerian artist, opens with the proud declaration “I’m the flag-bearer of Negritude and all things black and beautiful”, an assertion of identity and pride that is both personal and political.

Among the more inventive poems is Coffee, in which the beverage itself narrates its own extraordinary global journey, from the Ethiopian highlands to Arabia, to India, smuggled by the Sufi Saint Baba Budan, across Europe and eventually to the Caribbean. It is a poem that manages to be historically informative, playful, and quietly political all at once, reminding the reader that one of the world’s most beloved drinks has deeply African roots.

And then there is the Gerewol Festival, which transports the reader to a traditional beauty pageant in Niger, with young men adorned in saffron clay, painted shells, and ostrich feathers, resembling “palm trees at sunset” as they prepare for the yaake dance. It is richly colourful and celebratory, a vivid reminder that Africa’s cultural traditions are as sophisticated as any in the world.

The personal dimension of the collection comes through most vividly in poems like Safari and On the Way to Maasai Mara. In Safari, the poet describes heading back from Maasai Mara, having given up hope of spotting a lion, when suddenly a pride of lions appears on the path.

Perhaps the most emotionally powerful poem in the collection is Light of Africa, a long, incantatory piece that directly confronts every negative stereotype about the continent. “Where you see darkness, I see light”; the repetition of the word “light” gives the poem a rhythm that feels almost like a chant. It is the collection’s most direct response to centuries of misrepresentation, a quiet but firm declaration that Africa has always been, and always will be, a place of extraordinary brilliance.

The Alphabets of Africa is more than a poetry collection; it is an act of reclamation and celebration. Whether you are a lover of poetry or simply someone curious about the world’s most ancient and diverse continent, this book will leave you richer for having read it.

Title: The Alphabets of Africa

Author: Abhay K

Publisher: Penguin Vintage Classics

Pages: 280

Cost: ₹499

stories-the-fire-could-not-burn-review-hoihnu-hauzels-book-on-manipur-crisis-focuses-on-human-cost-of-conflict

Wed Feb 25 16:51:06 IST 2026

There are some books that inform you. And then there are books that make you feel something you cannot quite put into words. Hoihnu Hauzel's Stories the Fire Could Not Burn falls firmly in the second category.

This is not a comfortable read. It is not meant to be. The book is Hauzel's deeply personal account of the ethnic violence that tore through Manipur in 2023. This conflict displaced thousands, burned homes, and left entire communities with nothing but grief and memories. Hauzel, a journalist and author herself, writes not just as a reporter observing from the outside but as a daughter, a woman, and a member of the Kuki-Zo community that bore the brunt of this violence.

The name Manipur literally means “the city or land of jewels.” It is a small state in northeast India, bordered by Nagaland, Mizoram, Assam, and Myanmar. The state has long been a geopolitical hotspot. Over the decades, this unique “hills-versus-valley” geography has shaped the lives of its people. What used to be a symbiotic relationship between different ethnic groups has, over time, been strained by competition for land, political representation, and the shadows of insurgency. This historical tension reached a breaking point in May 2023, and it is from the ashes of this specific crisis that Hoihnu Hauzel’s stories emerge.

Hauzel doesn't just write about a conflict; she writes about the loss of home. She invites you into a world that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.

There is a sense of “home” that breathes through every page. Hauzel captures the small details: the playground, her father's library, the way families talk to each other, and the weight of history that every household carries.

This book is a raw, non-fiction account that focuses on the “fire” that swept through Manipur; both the literal flames that destroyed neighbourhoods and the symbolic fire that tested the spirit of the Kuki-Zomi/Mizo community. As a reader, you aren’t just observing a news report; you are sitting inside a living room as the world outside begins to shift.

The book subtly asks: What survives when everything else is lost? Hauzel suggests it’s our stories.

She uses simple, grounded language to show that dignity isn't lost just because life gets hard. There is a moment where she describes her parents’ home, the books, the rose garden, and the gazebo. When these are lost to the fire, it isn’t just property damage; it’s the erasure of a family’s history.

She finds herself sitting helplessly in Gurgaon, far away from the chaos, and yet not far enough. All she can do is sob on her son's couch, scrolling through pictures of a hometown that is being destroyed in real time. The kind of helplessness where you cannot do anything except watch. And then she sees it: her father’s library, a place where he spent years reading, writing, and finding himself in books, was reduced to ash. Not because of war in any grand political sense, but because of plain, senseless hatred.

That scene alone says everything about what this book is really about. It is not just about the politics of Manipur, though the politics are very much present. It is about what violence actually costs; not in numbers or statistics, but in the small, irreplaceable things that make a life meaningful.

But the book is not only about loss. Before the violence, there is life; warm, full, and deeply rooted. One of the most tender parts of the book is when Hauzel writes about lengkhom, a tradition of her community that roughly translates to “flying together”. It is the practice of coming together in song and fellowship; people gathering, voices rising, a traditional drum called the khuang setting the rhythm. Singing, in her community, was never just entertainment. It was a collective balm.

What makes this book stand out is that Hauzel does not write with rage, at least not only with rage. There is grief here that runs much deeper than anger. It is the grief of someone who loved her home completely; its people, its songs, its rhythms, its traditions; and had all of it ripped away. That grief is what makes this book impossible to put down and equally impossible to forget.

In the middle of all this chaos, Hauzel also introduces us to Ching, her sister-in-law, someone who, by her own nature, was not a particularly brave person. But a crisis has a way of demanding things from people they never knew they had. Ching quietly became the pillar of the family during the worst of it. She held everyone together: the children, the elders, the fear wearing a mask of strength even when she must have been falling apart inside. It is one of those small portraits in the book that stays with you, because it is so deeply human.

She writes about the viral video of two women from her community being paraded naked, assaulted, and humiliated in public view. It is deeply disturbing to read about. But Hauzel makes an important point: had that footage not been leaked, the world would have never known. It was that video which finally forced government institutions to confront a humanitarian tragedy they had been conveniently ignoring. She also recounts the beheading of David Thiek, whose severed head was put on public display. It is brutal. There is no other word for it. She lets the horror sit with the reader as it should.

The final chapter is perhaps the most tender. Hauzel is back in her Gurgaon apartment with her son and her husband, in comfort and safety. And yet she misses home. Not the idea of it, but the small details: the specific sounds, the familiar smells, the faces, the feeling of belonging somewhere completely. She arrives at something quietly profound: that home is not a place. It is a feeling. And that feeling, once lost, is not something you can simply find again in a new city or a new house.

Stories the Fire Could Not Burn is a revelatory book not just for what it documents but for how it makes you feel the human cost of something that many people in India either ignored or watched from a comfortable distance. If someone wants to understand what happened in Manipur, not the political headlines, but the actual, lived reality of it, this is where you start.

Stories The Fire Could Not Burn

Published by Speaking Tiger

Pages: 232 pages

Cost: ₹499.00

unshackling-the-elephant-review-a-blueprint-for-justice

Wed Feb 18 17:25:02 IST 2026

In Unshackling the Elephant, Anand Prasad offers a searching, deeply considered reflection on the Indian legal system—its burdens, its blind spots, and its immense but unrealised potential. Drawing on more than three decades of experience at the Bar, Anand writes not as a distant academic observer but as someone who has lived within the machinery of the courts and felt its strengths and strains firsthand. The result is a book that is both diagnostic and visionary: a candid appraisal of where we stand, and a bold invitation to imagine what justice in India could yet become.

The metaphor of the elephant is central to the book’s force. India’s legal system, like the elephant, is majestic and powerful, rooted in history and capable of extraordinary endurance. Yet it is also shackled—by inherited colonial frameworks, procedural excess, delay, and habits of thought that no longer serve a modern, dynamic society. Anand argues that over time these shackles have weakened public trust. When cases linger for years, when access to justice feels expensive or uncertain, and when outcomes appear unpredictable, the moral authority of the law itself begins to erode.

What distinguishes this work is its refusal to settle for incremental reform. Anand does not merely catalogue problems; he ventures solutions that are structural and, at times, daring. He calls for a transformation in how courts function—embracing technology, improving knowledge systems, standardising processes, and exploring AI-assisted tools to reduce delays and enhance consistency. For him, efficiency is not a managerial concern alone; it is integral to fairness. Justice delayed, he reminds us, is not simply justice deferred—it is often justice denied.

The book also engages with questions of accountability and incentives within the legal ecosystem. Anand examines how litigation costs, interest awards, fee structures, and funding models shape behaviour. If delays carry no real consequence and inefficiency bears no cost, he suggests, reform will remain rhetorical. By introducing economic rationality into legal processes, he argues, the system can better align professional incentives with public interest.

Perhaps most striking is the author’s effort to situate legal reform within India’s own philosophical traditions. He reflects on ideas such as dharma and Ram Rajya—not as nostalgic invocations, but as possible ethical anchors that could complement the inherited common law framework. His contention is that a justice system must resonate culturally as well as procedurally; it must speak to the moral imagination of the society it governs. This cultural turn is likely to provoke debate, and rightly so. Yet even those who disagree with aspects of his argument will find it difficult to ignore the seriousness with which it is advanced.

Unshackling the Elephant is a work of conviction, written with clarity and intellectual courage. At moments it challenges comfortable assumptions; at others it inspires hope that reform, though daunting, is within reach. Lawyers, judges, policymakers, scholars, and engaged citizens will find in its pages both a rigorous critique and a call to action.

In the end, Anand’s message is simple but urgent: India’s legal system need not remain burdened by inertia. With imagination, integrity, and resolve, it can be unshackled—restored to a position where justice is not only proclaimed but consistently delivered.

Unshackling the Elephant: Transforming Indian Law, Culture and Economy

By Anand Prasad

Published by Bloomsbury

Price Rs 699; pages 301

Sitesh Mukherjee is senior advocate, Supreme Court of India.

the-robe-and-the-sword-book-review-an-unsettling-account-of-how-buddhist-extremism-is-shaping-modern-asia

Thu Feb 12 20:00:05 IST 2026

Against sweeping deep orange, the colour of the Buddhist robe, a blue, Buddha-like figure sits squatted, with a sword. It is a startling image, far removed from the calm, meditative renunciation Buddhism is known for. In Buddhist iconography, the figure is Manjushri, the Bodhisattva of Wisdom; the sword is meant to cut through ignorance. But in parts of modern Asia, monks have taken up the sword not as metaphor, but as politics -- directing their ire at religious and ethnic minorities in the name of “saving Buddhism.”

This is the unsettling premise of journalist Sonia Faleiro’s ‘The Robe and the Sword: How Buddhist Extremism Is Shaping Modern Asia’ (HarperCollins). The sword-wielding Bodhisattva against saffron is the book’s cover.

Faleiro begins in Dharamshala, the adopted home of the Dalai Lama, before travelling to violence-scarred towns in Sri Lanka and the refugee settlements along the Myanmar–Thailand border. Across these landscapes emerge stories of incitement and violence in which Buddhist monks are not bystanders but participants.

The militant monks

There is Galagoda Aththe Gnanasara, the notorious hardline monk in Sri Lanka, and Ashin Wirathu, described as “one of modern Buddhism’s most polarising figures,” in Myanmar. In the latter part of the book, Faleiro turns to Thailand, where Buddhist institutions take on a different character, deeply enmeshed with the monarchy–military state, benefiting from its patronage while remaining “above politics.”

Across the three countries she studies, Buddhism is inseparable from national identity. But what becomes of those who fall outside that definition of belonging? They are cast as outsiders, sometimes as enemies, targeted, persecuted, and punished. Faleiro recounts these consequences in chilling detail, particularly in Sri Lanka and Myanmar, both scarred by prolonged civil wars rooted in ethno-religious conflict.

A complex picture

Here, Faleiro employs a stark juxtaposition by placing survivors’ testimonies alongside the incendiary speeches and actions of the monks themselves. The effect is unsettling without being sensational. The author also handles the subject, which is both difficult and sensitive, exceptionally well. For instance, she resists generalisation with respect to both the religion and its followers. Hence, alongside hardline figures, she also introduces monks who challenge extremism, invoking the Buddha’s original teachings to counter the politics carried out in his name.

Economics and colonialism

Here, she rightfully places Asia’s colonial history as a major reason behind the ethno-religious divide, such as through the census and preferring one religion over others.

Then there’s the economic inequality, which “compounded these tensions, compelling the public to seek solace in religion and, in turn, granting monks disproportionate social and political influence,” she writes.

Faleiro adopts a narrative non-fiction approach, writing in the first person and grounding the book in what she witnesses and hears. The effect is immediate and immersive. It strikes a chord with the reader while lending the work a quietly probing, thought-provoking quality.

Echo back home

Perhaps the most chilling aspect of the book is how insistently it echoes back home. Faleiro opens in India, which shares with Sri Lanka and Myanmar not only colonial histories but, increasingly, the rise of hyper-nationalism and religious majoritarianism.

When she recounts a Burmese monk’s claim that Muslim men were seducing Buddhist women to “overtake Myanmar’s Buddhist population,” the rhetoric feels unsettlingly familiar. References to laws restricting inter-faith marriages and religious conversion sharpen that resemblance. And when victims of violence speak of police who “never came,” the pattern of majoritarian aggression met with institutional indifference is difficult to ignore.

In October 2014, the Bodu Bala Sena (BBS), a far-right Sinhalese Buddhist organisation in Sri Lanka known for inciting anti-Muslim violence, announced plans to collaborate with the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), the ideological parent of India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which had come to power earlier that year.

‘The Robe and the Sword’ is a timely and important work. Just over 150 pages long, it is deceptively slime, accessible in form, but deeply expansive.

the-corpse-collector-book-review-when-death-sets-you-free-to-live

Fri Feb 06 14:47:59 IST 2026

Somehow, as human beings, we have cultivated a dread of death. We don’t talk about it, and we live as though it does not exist, although it is probably the only certainty in life. That is why those who live in its hinterlands—intimately familiar with death’s topography—have a clearer perspective on life. Like corpse collector Vinu P. He has handled countless corpses, helping the police with inquests and post-mortems, burying the bodies that no one comes forward to claim and, in the process, turning into a social pariah.

Although his job is indispensable, he himself remains dispensable, shunned to the margins with no one to call his own except the police officials who treat him as one of their own and outcasts like himself who make their home on railway tracks and underneath overbridges. One only thinks of people like him as they are, not as they used to be—with home and hearth, families and dreams. That’s why The Corpse Collector by Vinu and Niyas Kareem, translated from Malayalam by Ministhy S., is such an important book. It lends him an identity and a humanity apart from, or perhaps because of, his work, an inherent dignity that no one should be denied.

He was born in a colony in Aluva, Kerala, which used to be rife with thugs. His father’s family had been the washermen of the Aluva royal palace for almost eight generations. His father co-owned an ironing business. He wasn’t good at studies and failed in the fifth and seventh standards, and finally gave up after his tenth. One day, he heard a shocking news: that his best friend had drowned in the Periyar river. When the men who were searching the river found his body, they could not pull it out without assistance. No one volunteered, so Vinu dove into the water. If your destiny is written before you are born, then this was the prologue to Vinu’s story—his first experience of collecting a corpse. Soon, it would become his life and livelihood.

Slowly, he started getting ostracised. Restaurant owners would refuse to serve him, and autorickshaw drivers and shopkeepers would shoo him away. Everyone called him shavamvari (corpse collector). “I did not understand what my crime was or why everyone loathed me,” writes Vinu. “It was later that the realisation dawned on me: society is a cat that pretends to be tame but cruelly plays with its victims, like a cat with a mouse. It shall not kill at a single go, but relishes the torture, cut by cut.”

Despite the despair and disillusionment, the book is suffused with hope. The cracks in his life only let in more light. As Kahlil Gibran once wrote, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.” Vinu writes about how he used to be a coward who was afraid of darkness. He would avoid stepping on cow manure and get nauseated by a vehement sneeze. Now, nothing repels him. “That young boy grew up to become me....,” he writes. “Time shall not transform someone so drastically without reason—that belief guides me onwards.” Today, Vinu has a wife and a child. He dreams of building a graveyard for the dead. After all, it is death that truly sets him free to live.

Title: The Corpse Collector

Authors: Vinu P and Niyas Kareem (Translated from Malayalam by Ministhy S.)

Publisher: Juggernaut

Pages: 232

Price: Rs 699

travels-in-the-other-place-book-review-a-breath-of-fresh-perspective

Sat Jan 31 18:46:16 IST 2026

Having lived in Spain, China, Japan, India, and Indonesia, Pallavi Aiyar has been a nomad in the truest sense of the term. Yet, her book Travels in the Other Place is not a conventional travel book.

She measures her journey not in terms of geography, but rather, in terms of discovery. Travel, for her, is about lingering at life until it yields its magic and meaning.

That is why her childhood wanderings in Enid Blyton books form as much a part of ‘travel’ as her cancer diagnosis in 2022. Both splintered her world, not taking her to new terrain as much as helping her see the old in new ways.

Aiyar’s prose is beautiful, not because of profundity or insight—although there is that—but because it is suffused with a searing honesty. Whether she is writing about imagining her own funeral, the flak she got for her writing, or the misogyny she faced as a foreign correspondent, it feels like she holds nothing back.

She seems to have grasped that truth—no matter how painful—speaks a universal language which calls to the heart.

There is the cerebral about her writing—a reflection of her intellect—but she always wields it to make sense of things and glean a deeper understanding into the machinery of the world. Intellect for her is always the means and never an end.

Whether it is untangling the frustrating knots of language—why does tang, for example, when expressed in two tones, mean both 'soup' and 'sugar' in Chinese—or attempting to discover the ‘real’ China of poverty and scarcity, Aiyar always offers a unique perspective, making you see things in a different light.

Among the eight essays is one on pedagogy, which describes the differences in her upbringing and those of her two boys. They, for example, are not gripped by her life-or-death attitude to education. They don’t find it nerve-rackingly necessary the way she did.

“Their Spanish passports are talismanic protection from resource scarcity,” she writes.

There are also essays on passportism (the inferior status accorded to her because of her Indian passport when compared with passport brahmins like her Spanish husband), language, reporting, and a surprising inclusion on hair—on losing it post-chemotherapy, and how much it is linked to patriarchy, religion, and identity.

But my favourite essay was on her grief at losing her famous news presenter mother, Geetanjali Aiyar.

The ‘Jar of Happiness’—notes her mother wrote to help her get through cancer—was heart-rending. She describes grief poignantly, as a “gravity-free zone, a floating dead weight. Untethered, undone, unravelled. The sorrow sticks insistently to the body, like a shadow, lengthening and shortening through the day, but attached to the heels even as I try and kick it off.”

Then she writes something simple, yet profound: “Love illuminates grief to something akin to beauty.” Everyone sees the burden of grief, but not many see its beauty. Aiyar has the rare ability, not just to see it, but to show it to you.

Travels in the Other Place

Author: Pallavi Aiyar

Publisher: Westland

Pages: 185

Price: Rs 599

mumbai-and-its-many-micro-histories

Tue Jan 27 16:37:42 IST 2026

Mumbai is a city piled high with clichés. The most annoying among them is the adulatory and unthinkingly overused ‘spirit of Mumbai’. It was probably valid half a century ago, and like others of its ilk, is now past its expiry date. That’s why I was happy that the latest book on the city is by Sidharth Bhatia's Mumbai – A Million Islands. Bhatia has for long schooled himself to become unaffected by awe and unruffled by its opposite. His professional scepticism (he’s a journalist) has also given him a serviceable bullshit detector.

Like the subject itself, the book is a sprawling, multi-layered canvas, as labyrinthine as the lanes of quaint Kotachiwadi. It overlaps many time zones; it is hurried and uneven—profound in places, shallow in others. Like Mumbai, it is messy too (I spotted typos). It embraces contrasts, of course, for those are the ‘islands’ upon which Bhatia has based his book. The proof is in your face. If you get into one of the high-rises zooming skywards at Saath Rasta, one window will overlook the playgrounds of millionaires—the racecourse, the Turf Club and a helipad to boot. Another window in the same room gives you the seamy side of the city, and Arthur Road Jail as the cherry on the falooda. That’s Mumbai.

Bhatia’s fear—a fear shared by others who have written or contemplated about Mumbai—is that the ‘islands’ will one day opt for open war with each other, with the poor saying ‘enough is enough’ and go for the rich man’s jugular. Whether a million mutinies are going to erupt any time soon is a matter for another debate. But let that not distract us from the book at hand.

Bhatia has not spared himself the rigours of research. It’s wide and it’s deep, and it is conducted not just in libraries but on the more revelatory streets of the metropolis. In the course of his intra-city exploration, he turns up nuggets which are unfamiliar even to those who thought they knew the city well.

The book’s initial focus on housing is so intense you begin to wonder if the author has as his deputy a real estate agent who is also a closet Leftist. Soon, however, Bhatia spreads his arms to accommodate other aspects of the city. Off and on, his Leftist sympathies rear their head. We are told that while the iconic Ganpati idol Lalbaugcha Raja (king of Lalbaug) and its accompanying festival grows bigger every year, ‘workers' chawls are getting obliterated as the developers move in.’ Government initiatives which begin with pious proclamations of helping the poor are soon mired in scandal and daylight siphoning of funds. Planning and execution in Mumbai are spasmodic rather than systematic. This is as true of the BDD (Bombay Development Directorate) chawls and the Bombay Port Trust as of Kamathipura—the city’s red-light district which is now slowly losing its lurid hue.

Since there are an armload of books on this city, and more may be on the way, it makes sense to ask if Bhatia’s work uncovers fresh ground. Well, as I said, Mumbai – A Million Islands does add to your sum of knowledge and tells you of the lore behind common landmarks. Next question: Does it say anything different? That’s tough, and I am inclined to pass. Naresh Fernandes, in A City Adrift, says much the same thing, but Bhatia does it with more angst and energy if less elegance. Also, the book comes with an index, making it ideal as a reference. Then there is Suketu Mehta’s Maximum City, which lifted the lid on the underworld and managed to ‘scoop’ an interview with Chhota Shakeel. But, apart from hearing the don in his own voice, there were no sensational revelations in the telephonic interview. And then, Mehta now properly belongs to Manhattan while Bhatia is from amchi Mumbai even from the time it was Bombay.

But if you ask if any of the above books captures Mumbai’s zeitgeist, then none of them qualifies. If you are looking for the soul of the city, you are looking in the wrong direction. I suggest you keep all books aside and sit back and listen to Mohammed Rafi and Majrooh Sultanpuri’s immortal ode—Zare hatke, zara bachke, yeh hai Bambai meri jaan.

Mumbai – A Million Islands

By Sidharth Bhatia

Published by HarperCollins

Price: Rs 599; pages: 301

from-draupadi-to-bollywood-new-book-explores-facets-of-a-sari

Wed Jan 21 18:05:07 IST 2026

From Draupadi’s endlessly extending sari in the Mahabharata—a moment that lays bare power and violation—to Indira Gandhi’s starched cottons enveloping authority, and Raveena Tandon’s iconic yellow chiffon in ‘Tip Tip Barsa Paani’, dripping with sensuality, the sari has clothed women across myth, politics and spectacle.

For most women, the relationship begins early: a dupatta from the mother’s wardrobe becomes a makeshift sari in childhood games, before giving way to bridal silks, daily cottons, and eventually a garment reserved for special occasions. Not a static tradition, the sari is a living archive of Indian womanhood.

It is this intimate, lifelong relationship that Lakshmi Murdeshwar Puri explores in ‘The Sari Eternal: A Tribute’ (Aleph Book Company)—a deeply personal memoir by the former diplomat on six yards of cloth that have travelled with her across continents and careers.

‘The Sari Eternal’, Puri insists, is neither an academic text nor a coffee-table book. “I’ve looked at a sari not as a subject but as a companion,” she said at the launch of her book at the 2026 Jaipur Literature Festival, reflecting that she was “meant to write this book”.

“I’ve worked as a diplomat, lived in several countries, and in many ways, I’ve also been an ambassador of the sari,” she said.

The tridevi & the Ganga

Part of Aleph’s Eternal India series, ‘The Sari Eternal’ is structured across six chapters: Sari Love, The Sari Eternal, The Sacred and the Mundane, The Sari in Epics and Classical Literature, The Bollywood Effect and The Future of the Sari. While it is neither the first nor a definitive book on the garment, Puri deliberately steers clear of the academic route, focusing instead on the sari’s constancy across history, mythology and popular culture even as it continues to evolve.

Central to the book is the idea of the sari as a sacred form. Indian goddesses—Parvati, Lakshmi and Saraswati, the tridevi—are almost invariably depicted draped in temple saris, just as India’s rivers, from the Ganga to the Yamuna, are imagined as sari-clad goddesses. The imagery extends from Draupadi’s attempted disrobing in the Mahabharata to Abanindranath Tagore’s early 20th-century painting of Bharat Mata, where the nation itself is rendered as a sari-wearing woman.

Reading from the book, Puri underlined why unstitched cloth occupies such a central place in the Indian imagination. “In the Indian cultural and spiritual imagination, unstitched cloth has always been associated with sanctity, completeness and transcendence. Stitching was considered a profane, violent act that ruptured the spiritual wholeness and integrity of any fabric.”

During her session, Puri also spoke about the modern “sheroes”—from Indira Gandhi and Sucheta Kripalani to contemporary women politicians—who continue to choose the sari. Popular cinema, too, has long romanticised the garment, a relationship Puri explores in an entire chapter. Just think of the expanse: from Raveena Tandon’s rain-drenched yellow chiffon in ‘Tip Tip Barsa Paani’ to Sridevi’s iconic saris in the 1989 film ‘Chandni’.

Gen Zs and the six yards

Puri then talks about the relationship the Gen Zs share with the sari, and how in the metropolitan cities, people are moving away from it. “However, in smaller towns and villages, it’s still a garment of choice as much as a necessity.”

And finally, for whom the book is. “To all those women who have adapted the sari from a garment of necessity to a garment of choice,” she said. “Sari has stood the test of time.”

under-the-scalpel-book-review-a-critical-view-of-the-current-state-of-india-medical-education

Sat Jan 10 13:20:53 IST 2026

In this well-researched book, P. Sesh Kumar studies the problems facing India’s medical education system. The book, Under the Scalpel, shows how issues such as student stress, empty hospital posts and delayed medical careers are linked to policies and institutions, not just individual failure.

The author writes with authority because of his background. Kumar is a former officer of the Indian Audit and Accounts Service. He also served as Secretary to the Supreme Court–appointed Oversight Committee on the Medical Council of India during 2016–17. This role allowed him to closely observe how medical education is regulated. His experience helps him explain how good policies often get weakened by political pressure, lack of resources and administrative limits.

A major focus of the book is the mental stress caused by the National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET). Kumar explains that preparation for NEET often starts at a very young age. Students spend years in coaching centres, studying for 12 to 14 hours a day. The city of Kota is used as an example. According to media reports quoted in the book, at least 26 students died by suicide in Kota in 2023, the highest number in ten years. Most were preparing for NEET or engineering exams. The author says these deaths point to a wider mental health crisis, especially among students from poorer families.

The book does not suggest removing NEET. Kumar accepts that the exam has reduced corruption and created a common national standard. However, he criticises the heavy dependence on a single exam. He argues that medical admissions have become too competitive and unfair to students with fewer resources. He suggests a wider admission process that includes school marks, aptitude tests, interviews and proper mental health support. The book also highlights the gap between CBSE and state board syllabi, which makes many students rely heavily on costly coaching.

Problems continue even after students complete MBBS. India produces over one lakh MBBS graduates every year, but there are only about 74,000 postgraduate MD and MS seats. Only half of these are in government colleges. Private colleges charge very high fees, sometimes up to one crore rupees, for popular subjects. According to Kumar, this shuts out many talented students from middle-income and lower-income families. NEET-PG becomes another stressful exam where even a small mistake can affect a doctor’s future.

The author argues that increasing seats alone has not solved the problem. Many new seats are in colleges with poor facilities or in remote areas. Super-speciality seats are very limited, with fewer than 3,000 across the country. There is also a shortage of teachers. As a result, some seats remain vacant not because of a lack of students, but because of poor quality and location.

Regulation is another key issue in the book. The Medical Council of India was criticised for its strict rules and outdated inspections. Its replacement, the National Medical Commission, has made rules more flexible. While this helps new colleges, Kumar warns that it can also lead to cutting corners. Inspections are now often paperwork-based, and lower experience requirements for teachers may affect training quality.

There has been progress. India now has about 1.3 million registered doctors, and health spending has increased. The government plans to add 75,000 MBBS seats over five years. Still, India has fewer doctors and weaker training systems compared to many developed countries.

Kumar ends with a clear warning. Under pressure to approve more seats, the National Medical Commission, he says, is starting to act like the old Medical Council of India. Without better planning and stronger oversight, reforms may repeat past mistakes.

Overall, the book is a serious and informative study of medical education in India. It highlights important issues of quality, fairness and responsibility. For students interested in healthcare and education, it shows why growth without standards can weaken the system instead of improving it.

Title: Under the Scalpel

Author: P. Sesh Kumar

Publisher: White Falcon Publishing

Pages: 320

Price: Rs 549

tell-my-mother-i-like-boys-review-how-chef-suvir-saran-found-self-acceptance-through-food

Wed Jan 07 11:59:22 IST 2026

“Freedom comes when you learn to let go,

Creation comes when you learn to say No”

- Madonna (The Power of Goodbye)

When Suvir Saran, the first Indian chef to win a Michelin star in North America, decide to write an autobiography, you expect him to tell us the secrets to his success, the tips that raised his culinary skills to a level the world couldn’t have enough of, the go-getter persona behind it all, a man at the top of his game.

But instead, what you find in Tell My Mother I Like Boys, just out, is a story of a man who is crumbling and afraid as any other, restless, broken, ill and struggling. As he puts it, “You are a Michelin star chef, your books sell, people stand in line, but you are hollow within…a celebrity who smiled big at the camera, but was actually crying and faking it.”

To bracket the book as an LGBT+ empowerment book would be to do it a disservice of sorts, for as Saran recounts, “It’s about living; living your truth.” The example he gives is telling: when a friend handed the book for reading to a homophobic cousin who did not know Saran at all just to see her reaction, what happened was dramatic. The floodgates opened as the cousin read it and broke down.

“I’ve never opened up to any relative about this before, but my husband used to beat me for several years,” the woman confessed to her cousin, and added, “He’s so brave.”

It’s a coming out story that becomes much more than a coming out story, it becomes a coming home tale, a deeply personal exploration of not just identity and queerness but also about the struggle for self-acceptance. How being broken inside can become a beginning, and where creativity, through culture, music and of course food, became the cure that helped him transform into living ‘without apology’ (even if his mother did ask him why he was airing his laundry publicly!).

Saran’s roller coaster story moves between Delhi, Mumbai and New York, and with a brief, but life-defining interlude in Nagpur where his bureaucrat father was posted. That is where, at age 7 or 8, he sensed his sexuality for the first time, which he describes as “something wrong about me…and I never had words for it. The burden of that secret mad me think my body will be perhaps found by somebody someday — these were the nightmares that I started having as a young kid.”

The troubled young child found solace, if it can be called that, in music, singing songs at school, learning Sanskrit from his grandfather, doing needlepoint stitch, macrame crochet, embroidery, even joining meal planning class in school, where the teachers were shocked a boy wanted to join it.

Perhaps that was an inkling of what future held. Sexuality did play a part, for he describes his entry into his mom’s kitchen, helping her out and picking up tips and tricks of the trade (which, in hindsight, helped him out professionally), as a sort of escape from the glaring eyes of the world, he felt, was judging him. “I literally folded myself in the pleats of her sari and felt (that) if I couldn't see the world, they couldn't see me.”

But the world soon did see a side of him that it liked. After studying in Mumbai’s JJ School of Arts, he moved to New York to study Visual Arts, where life had a different plan for him.

“In America, while I was being ‘Othered’ for how I looked, when they ate my food, they loved me.”

Working part-time in retail while studying in the Big Apple, Saran used to host dinners at his pad in Manhattan which soon became by word-of-mouth ‘the best food being cooked in New York by this Indian student’ — “Sometimes Hollywood stars, sometimes politicos, because a friend told another friend who told someone else…” Saran says without batting an eyelid of his successful soirees. Then one day, an investor ate his food, and told him, open a restaurant. First catering, and then Michelin success with the restaurant Devi, which was the first time an Indian chef got the coveted restaurant star in North America (Indian chefs in London with Michelin stars went before him, followed recently by wins by Indian-origin chefs in the US and Thailand — no restaurant or chef within the country have got the rating yet).

As Saran puts it, “People came for the novelty. They came back for the flavour!”

Success spawned stardom, as celebrities and the press vied for his attention, cameras followed him on to the red carpet and his books on food, from the hit ‘Indian Home Cooking’ to ‘American Masala’ to Masala Farm’, sold millions of copies. And love, too blossomed, with a longterm relationship with Charlie Burd, with whom he co-owned a 70-acre farm in upstate New York.

Then life decided to give him some hard knocks.

Saran’s dream run unravelled in the late-2010s, as the frenetic pace of his Manhattan lifestyle took a toll on his health. Saran himself describes his dejected return (the relationship with Burd too died out after more than a decade together) as “a man who came back to India with defeat.”

“I had a tryst with death, and I lived to tell the tale. And since India gave me a second chance, I decided to stay back.”

Back home, Saran slowed down, focusing on consultancies and occasional columns in Indian Express as well as some other publications. The writing caught the attention of good friend Shashi Tharoor, as well as book publishers who asked him to write a book again. He says it was literary agent Mita Kapoor who convinced him to write Tell My Mother I like Boys saying that ‘people in the world today are having an identity crisis. Everybody’s busy on Instagram but nobody’s having any intimacy. We need someone who can show us the reality, and the possibility.”

Which is perhaps why Sarin is a bit reluctant, the in-your-face title of his book apart, to bill his book as LGBT writing. “It's not just an autobiography done to tell people I’ve owned Tiffany and Prada and Gucci,” he said, adding, “No, each chapter tells a story of a challenge, of a journey, of a growing up, of a reckoning, of a success coming, but seeing the other side of it. It is everything that life is, not just all the painted rosy picture that people try to tell us it is. It's a very truthful exposure of life that is normal and sane and crumbling and afraid as any other.”

Having said that, Saran is aware of the impact of an established Indian celebrity coming out with a book like this, and it starts with going beyond the affluent class. Saran says publishers are in touch with him for Indian language translation of the book, which he says is very important to take the message across.

“I look at India and I don't think life is easy for gay people,” Suvir said, reminiscing a letter he received from a gay man in a small town in Western Uttar Pradesh.

“As a gay man in a small town in India, this is as far as I will get to go. I don’t have a lover, I am scared to even look for one. Through your words, I travel the world. Through your words, I find peace,” Suvir quotes from the letter he received, saying both he and his mother had tears brimming in their eyes when they read it.

Suvir sums up succinctly: “I turned to my mother and told her, ‘This is why I write. Why I air my laundry. To help others realise they are not alone.’”

Tell My Mother I Like Boys

By Suvir Saran

Pages 220

Rs 699 (Hardbound)

Penguin Viking

one-breath-at-a-time-book-review-one-breath-108-lessons-a-lifetime-of-peace

Mon Dec 29 22:42:57 IST 2025

Most people look at the Dalai Lama as a distant figure on a stage, but Rajiv Mehrotra has spent the last 30 years seeing him as a teacher and a friend. In One Breath at a Time, Mehrotra acts as our translator, taking those deep, mountain-top philosophies and bringing them right down to the kitchen table. It is a celebratory volume that manages to be both a tribute to a global icon and an intimate conversation between a teacher, a student, and the reader. With each page, there is a fresh set of teachings that feels like soul searching.

If you’ve ever wanted a roadmap to the Dalai Lama’s philosophy without getting lost in dense text, One Breath at a Time is it. Instead of a heavy lecture, the book feels like a quiet walk through the basics of being a good human, covering everything from mindfulness to simple kindness. It’s a wonderful tribute to a global icon, but more than that, it’s a warm invitation for the rest of us to slow down and find some peace in our own lives. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the world, this is the guide that helps you navigate it with a little more grace.

The book is structured around 108 teachings, a number that is far from being coincidental. One Breath at a Time takes the reader through 108 distilled lessons, mirroring the 108 worldly desires that Buddhism teaches us to overcome. It’s a beautifully simple concept for a profoundly deep legacy.

In Buddhist cosmology and meditative practice, 108 symbolises wholeness.

While the 108 teachings offer daily bite-sized wisdom, the book’s 18 chapters provide the larger architecture. The journey begins with the basics. These chapters don't require your faith; they invite your investigation.

It encourages readers to explore their own minds rather than just adopting a dogma.

He encourages the reader to treat their own mind like a laboratory. You aren't asked to believe in reincarnation or karma; you are invited to observe how a thought of anger physically feels in your body. The purpose of these secluded chapters is deconditioning. We are conditioned to react; these chapters teach us to respond. By using the breath (the "anchor"), the reader learns to create a "gap" between a stimulus and a reaction.

In chapter 5, The Path of Wisdom, the 26th Teaching, titled The Rainbow of Emptiness, is one of the most philosophically profound entries in the book. It addresses the Buddhist concept of Emptiness, but uses a beautiful, human metaphor to make it understandable. The rainbow exists only because of the interdependence of the sun, the rain, and the observer's eye. It has no "solid self" of its own. This part argues that everything in our lives, our problems, our egos, even our physical bodies, is exactly like that rainbow.

Further, the chapters tackle the afflictive emotions. Instead of telling the reader “don't be angry”, it explains why anger is logically ineffective and offers a step-by-step mental shift to dissolve it. For every negative emotion, the book provides a specific logical antidote, such as Anger is countered with Patience and Jealousy is countered with Rejoicing in others' success.

42nd teaching talks about The Practice of Gratitude. It’s not just about being thankful for the good things; it’s about a radical appreciation for the challenges that 'break us open.' Mehrotra shows us how to turn every life experience into a source of strength.

As the reader moves into the heart of the book, the focus shifts from personal peace to collective well-being. This section shifts the reader’s identity. It contributes to the idea of the global citizen. By realising we are all interconnected, compassion becomes a natural reflex rather than a forced moral chore. By dissolving the walls we build around ourselves, the book shows that our own happiness is inextricably linked to the happiness of those around us.

The 64th teaching, titled Ethics for Everyone, moves away from religion and focuses on what it means to be a decent human being in the modern world. Mehrotra argues that you don't need to be Buddhist or even spiritual to live an ethical life. The teaching explains that ethics isn't about following a set of strict, ancient rules; it is simply about warm-heartedness. We all want to be happy, and we all want to avoid pain. This is a scientific fact, not a religious one.

The final arc of the book is arguably the most important for a modern reader because it answers the question: How do I stay peaceful when the world is in chaos?

Chapters 15 and 16 deal specifically with the stressors of 21st-century life: greed, digital distraction, and the constant pressure to "be someone”.

It suggests that mindfulness is our only defence against a world designed to keep us distracted and dissatisfied. It encourages a mental diet, where we are as careful about the information we consume as we are about the food we eat. Simultaneously, the practice of contentment and finding satisfaction with enough rather than constantly craving for more is the key principle. It offers a practical way to set boundaries without losing our compassion.

These chapters teach us that our integrity in small moments, how we handle a difficult colleague, or how we react to a stressful headline, is what ultimately builds a peaceful society. It turns the quiet pilgrimage of the earlier pages into an active and practical experience.

The book reaches its summit with the final teaching: Joy in the Journey. We often spend our lives waiting for "the end": the end of a problem, the end of a workday, or the end of a struggle. This teaching flips that logic, suggesting that the "Joy" is found in the very act of practising, breathing, and trying again. It teaches that true joy isn't the absence of pain, but the presence of awareness. We already have everything we need to be at peace.

Mehrotra has brilliantly highlighted the bridge between us and the Dalai Lama. He creates a structure that respects our busy lives. He knows we might not have hours to study ancient texts, so he offers bite-sized wisdom along with a miniature meditation guide with each teaching that can be digested in the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee. He turns a massive spiritual legacy into a portable and practical roadmap.

Title: One Breath At A Time: 108 Timeless Teachings of Wisdom

Publisher: HayHouse

Pages: 312

Price: Rs 599

from-divine-art-to-deep-philosophy-exploring-the-enduring-legacy-of-m-t-v-acharya

Sat Dec 20 12:59:59 IST 2025

For a generation whose childhood fascinations were shaped and nourished by the enchanting pages of those little magazines, the modern maze of smartphones and the internet would evoke a quiet sense of loss. The magical illustrations of the mythological characters that once left you spellbound and awestruck would still linger quietly in your mind, making fleeting appearances at the slightest mention of epics such as the Mahabharata or the Ramayana.

Much of the credit for blossoming the young minds of those days may be attributed to M. T. V. Acharya, an illustrator and art educator, knwon for the intricate detailing and emotional depth of his paintings. Acharya’s mystical sketches of the Mahabharata characters, mainly appeared in Chandamama, have not only redefined our engagement with these riveting stories but also helped in awakening the devotional and spiritual realms within us.

In his new book, The Divine Art of M. T. V. Acharya, renowned photographer Sridhara Tumari pays a rich and timely tribute to the artistic genius by compiling all his great works that were gradually fading away from the mainstream artistic forums. The book makes a revisit to Acharya’s Mahabharata series, showcasing the spellbinding illustrations of its characters and scenes that reflect the depth of his visual imagination and artistic brilliance.

However, just breathing life into a dwindling legacy was not the sole aim of the author. Tumari was more allured by the emotional resonance and philosophical undertones of those paintings. The Mahabharata itself is a spectrum of emotions and the pinnacle of philosophy. From love, compassion and hope to anger, despair, and dejection, the epic tale unfolds as a web of conflicts and complexities, and an inexhaustible source for creative engagement. It’s hardly surprising that Tumari chooses to introduce Acharya’s ‘Gitopadesha’ at the very beginning of his book.

And, what follows is a visual feast where you will be guided through all those captivating scenes captured meticulously by Acharya’s brush strokes and printed in premium quality pages. In his commentary of each portrait, Tumari explains how Acharya, through his masterful use of visual elements, captures even the tiniest narrative details and takes utmost care to convey the inner feeling of the characters. The innocence on Kunti’s face as she stands before Surya, Droupadi’s anguish after being humiliated by the Kauravas, or Karna’s helplessness when Arjuna targets him while he tries to lift the wheels of his chariot—Acharya’s paintings go beyond aesthetics and become a medium for collective human experience.

The master artist indeed had a profound understanding of those transcendental values and their subtle nuances, as evidenced in his later writings. Tumari has included a refined English translation of his autobiographical work Kale Mathu Nanu (Art & I) done by A. Shivaprasad, in the second part of his compendium, further opening the maestro’s world of art to a wider and more discerning audience.

The book offers not only an excursion through many of his other remarkable paintings, but also a glimpse into the artist's own life forged through intense struggles. It’s a poignant account of Acharya’s artistic journey, shaped by his spiritual quests and philosophical insights. On that expedition, he created a variety of illustrations—both portraits and landscapes—each carrying its own unique story behind it. From ‘A Poor Village School Teacher’ to ‘Grihalakshmi’, his canvases always stood out for their meditative quality, reflecting the inner feelings of humanity.

In the Art & I, Acharya assumes the role of an art critic rather than a storyteller. Of course, he recounts several significant episodes of his life, including his employment at an aircraft manufacturing factory, his years in Madras, and his stints with Chandamama. However, during the progression, Acharya delves extensively into the purpose of art, explores the relation between art and society, and shares his exalted views on life, human nature, spirituality, religion, and morality. It was these noble thoughts that unquestionably guided him in creating those mythological paintings.

He says, “The stories and episodes from the Mahabharata are not just mythical in nature. To this day and forever, they represent the desires and lusts in the minds of humankind. They depict not only hatred and jealousy, dirty political games, but also the highest human and spiritual values”.

Acharya’s writings adopt a more prosaic and academic tone, as he offers extensive commentary on prevailing social and political systems through a series of well-crafted essays. A realist in art, he traces various styles of Indian painting, their evolution, and Western influences, while also examining the Indian artistic tradition and its rich diversity. The conjurer minces no words in denouncing what he calls the “narrow-mindedness” of modern artists and, at one point, even explains why he didn’t wish to exhibit a good lot of his modern paintings.

Towards the end of his scholarly endeavour, Tumari further unveils the sublime beauty of Acharya’s divine art by reproducing his illustrations of over forty deities—gods and goddesses—specifically created for a Ramakrishna Ashrama publication. Inarguably, theDivine Art of Acharya stands as a cherished keepsake, offering art enthusiasts and students alike a rare opportunity to explore not only the grandeur of the artist's visual creations but also his elevated streams of thought.

Title: The Divine Art of M.T.V. Acharya

Author: Sridhara Tumari

Pages: 271

Language: English

Publisher: PRISM BOOKS PVT LTD

Price: ₹ 3995/-

slow-serious-and-unimpressed-by-noise-what-riding-with-the-silver-wolf-gets-right-and-wrong

Thu Dec 18 18:08:56 IST 2025

‘Riding with the Silver Wolf’ is a poetry collection that resists the dominant mood of contemporary verse. Where much recent poetry is loud, confessional, and engineered for instant effect, Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha opts for slowness. Her poems pause, observe, and reflect. This is both the book's central strength and its most persistent limitation.

The method is laid out early in ‘The Pause’, where the speaker asks, “Are you free to be yourself? / Who are you?” and then deliberately puts the pen down, becoming “the vessel, ready to receive.” The gesture feels less like a poetic flourish than an aesthetic manifesto. Noronha privileges listening over assertion, restraint over display. Technically, this results in spare free verse, short lines, and plain diction, with split rhymes used to slow rather than propel the reader forward.

This restraint works best when the poems engage directly with social reality.

‘Monsoon’, written in the shadow of the pandemic, avoids the familiar language of resilience and recovery. Instead, it confronts the erasure of collective grief, asking whether we can really forget “the multitudes / swept away by that wave of sickness.” The poem’s imagery—a storm, a battered rose, may be familiar, but its emotional discipline prevents sentimentality.

The collection’s most compelling moments come when lyric observation intersects with political clarity. ‘Varanasi’ is among the strongest poems here, exposing how faith, patriarchy, and poverty converge to entrap widows in ritualised abandonment. Noronha refuses both pity and romanticism; dignity is shown as fragile, provisional, and sustained through endurance rather than transcendence. Similarly, ‘Stampede’ offers a sharp critique of religious spectacle, indicating not only crowd frenzy but the godmen who vanish once death and injury remain.

Historical and ecological consciousness deepen the book’s ethical scope. In ‘Histories of Bygone Times’, monuments are stripped of their grandeur and returned to the anonymous labourers who built them. Later ecological poems adopt a more overtly polemical tone, warning that the Earth can meet human needs but not endless greed, culminating in a bleak evolutionary logic where “only the cactus will survive the apocalypse.” These poems are blunt, sometimes didactic, but effective in their refusal to soften the message.

Where the book falters is in its lyrical passages that rely too heavily on inherited imagery. Poems like ‘Water Speaks’, rich with abundance, harmony, and natural music, feel less discovered than received. The language here is pleasant but predictable, and the absence of formal experimentation limits emotional surprise. Editorial issues—uneven lineation, typographical slips, and conservative structural choices—also interrupt the reading experience. Even the accompanying photographs, while grounding the poems in reality, tend to illustrate rather than challenge the text.

Noronha, a poet and linguist, brings ethical seriousness and social awareness to her work. What she avoids—sonic play, formal risk, aesthetic provocation—will frustrate readers seeking innovation. Yet her commitment to moral attention, to looking steadily rather than dramatically, gives the collection its quiet authority.

Title: Riding with the Silver Wolf

Author: Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha

Pages: 94

Language: English

Publisher: Red River Press

Price: ₹ 349/-

place-intimate-encounters-with-cities-review-a-lyrical-journey-through-history-power-and-belonging

Mon Dec 15 21:10:24 IST 2025

Ananya Vajpeyi’s ‘Place’ begins with a refusal to see cities as scenery, to consume them as experiences, to flatten them into photographs. This is travel writing with a conscience. Every city here is a contested terrain, shaped as much by power, memory, and erasure as by streets and skylines. Vajpeyi does not visit cities; she enters arguments they have been having with history.

A cultural historian, political theorist, and one of India’s most incisive public intellectuals, Vajpeyi is best known for her landmark study, ‘Righteous Republic’, which explores nationalism and moral thought. ‘Place’ emerges from that same rigorous mind, but loosens the academic collar. Written across years of movement and return, this book feels like the afterlife of scholarship— what remained once as ideas have been lived with long enough to bruise, deepen, and settle.

Structured as a series of essays on cities across India, Europe, and the United States, Place is less about geography than about inhabitation - intellectual, emotional, historical. Vajpeyi writes as a scholar who knows her archives, but also as a traveller who understands that the deepest truths of a city often emerge not in landmarks but in repetitions: walking the same street again, returning to the same room, rereading the same poet in a different light.

Her cities are political, layered, and alive. Delhi is not merely streets and monuments; it is a palimpsest of medieval poetry, colonial impositions, and contemporary power struggles. Varanasi folds time into itself, forcing contemplation of mortality, ritual, and social hierarchies. European cities are examined with equal rigour: beauty interwoven with empire, culture shadowed by exclusion. Even New York, mythologised as perpetual motion, is portrayed in moments of solitude, alienation, and intellectual exile.

Vajpeyi’s great strength lies in her ability to braid the personal with the historical without letting either dominate the narrative. The prose is elegant, restrained, and often quietly beautiful. Vajpeyi writes with the assurance of someone uninterested in performance. Her wit is dry, her lyricism disciplined. She trusts the reader, refusing to flatten complexity or over-explain ideas. This makes Place intellectually rewarding, especially for readers who enjoy travel writing that thinks as much as it moves.

The book’s strength lies in Vajpeyi’s attention to nuance. She blends reportage with lyrical reflection, centring the experiences of ordinary people-street vendors, activists, and neighbours, alongside politicians and bureaucrats. Travel here is never superficial; it is deeply ethical.

Yet, for all its grace, ‘Place’ is not without flaws. The essays demand patience and occasional historical literacy; casual readers may find themselves lost in layers of references or slowed by a measured pace. Some sections, particularly the European city essays, risk feeling more intellectual than visceral, offering analysis over sensory immersion. At times, the lyricism flirts with abstraction, leaving the reader craving more concrete human moments. Some essays feel more like meditations than journeys, and the emotional temperature can remain cool, even when the subject-displacement, loss, and historical injustice invite greater heat. The politics is subtle, sometimes almost too polite, especially given the urgency of the questions being raised. Readers looking for narrative propulsion, sensory excess, or dramatic encounter may find the book withholding.

Still, Place lingers. It insists that cities are not neutral backdrops but moral landscapes shaped by exclusion and remembrance. In an era of algorithmic travel, curated experiences, and shrinking attention spans, Vajpeyi offers something braver: slowness, doubt, and the refusal to arrive at easy conclusions. Place is not a book that tells you where to go. It asks why you are there and what you are willing to see.

Title: Place: Intimate Encounters with Cities

Author: Ananya Vajpeyi

Pages: 239

Language: English

Genre: Non-Fiction

Publisher: Women Unlimited Ink

Price: ₹625

the-ultimate-healing-code-review-tips-to-debug-your-life-one-miracle-at-a-time

Thu Dec 11 18:25:38 IST 2025

A mind-body manual that inspires you to reboot, recharge, and rethink how you live—sparkling, sincere, and slightly starry-eyed.

Dimple Jangda’s new book, the follow-up to her bestselling ‘Heal Your Gut, Mind and Body’ returns like a determined wellness navigator, intent on steering you away from burnout, brain fog, and emotional static toward something that resembles inner coherence. As the founder of Prana Health Clinic and a familiar name in holistic healing, Jangda writes with the conviction of someone who has lived, practised, and refined her methods. She blends Ayurveda, behavioural science, and modern nutrition into a seamless framework, giving the book its characteristic mix of ancient wisdom wrapped in contemporary clarity.

The heart of the book lies in its “Five Ds” of mental and emotional well-being: Disconnect, Destress, Detox, Decompress, and Decode. Jangda uses this neat conceptual structure to unpack how sensory overload, unresolved tension, toxic buildup (both bodily and emotional), chronic tightness, and obsolete mental patterns form an outdated inner operating system. Her approach isn’t just diagnostic—she rebuilds the reader’s mental landscape like an engineer armed with spiritual tools.

Her second thematic axis—the five healing instruments of Time, Space, Nature, Sound, and Energy—serves as the counterbalance. These aren’t tossed-off wellness slogans; Jangda treats them as architectural principles for a meaningful, well-designed life. Time becomes a boundary-setting practice. Space becomes a chamber for mental decluttering. Nature becomes a prescription. Sound becomes vibrational therapy. Energy becomes the fundamental currency of health. Her metaphors land with a sharpness that makes familiar ideas feel refreshed.

Jangda also explores dietary and gut-health protocols with zeal. For her, food is more than nourishment—it’s an intelligent input that activates the body’s “miracle-making” instincts. This belief in the body’s self-healing power threads through the book, giving it emotional pull, even if certain claims may stretch the comfort zones of sceptical readers.

Where the book shines is in its clarity and approachability. Jangda distils complex ideas without flattening them, and her tone balances empathy with authority. She is an equal parts coach, debunker, and no-nonsense motivator.

Yet the book isn’t without its snags. Certain ideas circle back too often, creating moments of repetition. And the optimism-though soothing, occasionally veers into idealism. Readers dealing with chronic illness, limited resources, or demanding realities may wish for a touch more grit beneath the glow.

Still, the book delivers on its promise: a coherent roadmap to becoming a healthier, more grounded version of yourself. Smart, structured, and thematically tight, it functions as both companion and nudge. Even when it overreaches, it does so earnestly. For anyone seeking a thoughtful, energising guide to self-renewal, Jangda’s sequel stands out as an engaging and transformative read.

Title: The Ultimate Healing Code: Unlock Wellness with the Power of Energy, Vibrations, Frequency, Sound and Intentions

Author: Dimple Jangda

Pages: 328

Language: English

Genre: Non-Fiction

Publisher: Ebury Press (Penguin Random House)

Price: ₹ 499/-

memes-for-mummyji-book-review-a-smart-satirical-insightful-mirror-to-india-s-post-smartphone-behaviour

Wed Dec 03 16:40:35 IST 2025

The book, in the form of essays, conveys an astute, funny, and quick observation of our society by Santosh Desai on how smartphones have transformed day-to-day life in India. Rather than considering technology as a standalone phenomenon, Desai uses the smartphone as a vehicle for understanding wider cultural transformations - how Indians communicate, develop identities, negotiate family life, and engage in public places in the post-2010s digital age. The book is a collection of articles, yet it is held together by a thematic investigation of life in an India that is ancient, ambitious, chaotic and freshly self-aware.

One of the book’s sharpest insights is Desai’s knack for decoding the “cultural software” humming beneath those shiny smartphone screens. He suggests that the device didn’t transform Indians so much as it magnified what was already there - our reliance on family ecosystems. Through memes, selfies tier -2 influencers digital-age parenting, and the boom of online bazaars, Desai argues that the digital universe hasn’t replaced our social world at all - it’s simply become its hyperactive extension.

Desai writes with an easy charm - funny, familiar, and peppered with moments that make you mutter, “Yep, that’s us”. Whether he’s unpacking Mummyji’s Olympic-level WhatsApp forwarding skills or tracing how Instagram subtly retires our ideas of beauty and ambition, he nudges readers to notice just how thoroughly technology has seeped into our daily routines. His anecdotes land because they are both affectionate and sharply observed, revealing how our digital habits mix childlike wonder with creativity, insecurity, and a dash of rebellion. It’s a combination that makes the book especially resonant for anyone navigating the same cultural currents.

The book shines brightest when it captures the tug of war between the old and new, how age-old hierarchies, family logics, and moral frameworks stubbornly persist even as Indians dive headfirst into online freedoms. Desai shows, for example, how the drift from bustling street bazaar to mate-controlled malls and digital storefronts brings along thorny questions of community, class, access, and identity. His reflections on these shifts are nuanced and quietly provocative, tracing the ways modernity is rearranging the Indian imagination without ever announcing itself.

That said, the book’s essay-style structure means it never quite builds towards one grand thesis. While the thematic threads tie tougher neatly enough, readers seeking a rigorous, numbers-heavy sociological treatise may find it lighter than they'd hoped. Its gaze leans heavily toward urban, middle-class India, leaving the complexities of digital life on the margins or in rural spaces mostly unexplored. Occasionally, the broad brushstrokes feel a bit too sweeping for a country as intricate as India. But these are the natural constraints of cultural commentary, and within them, Desai delivers impressively.

In the end, Memes for Mummy offers an insightful, warm, and often razor-sharp portrait of a nation in motion. It captures the quiet revolutions unfolding in kitchens, bedrooms, WhatsApp chats, malls, and social feeds. For anyone wanting to understand contemporary India-not through statistics, but through lived moments Desai provides a lively and meaningful lens. It stands as a thoughtful addition to conversations about how technology is reshaping identity, society, and everyday life in a post-smartphone world.

Title: Memes For Mummyji: Making Sense of Post-Smartphone India

Author: Santosh Desai

Pages: 400

Language: English

Genre: Non-Fiction

Publisher: HarperCollins India

Price: ₹ 699/-

kolkata-crimes-book-review-kris-srinivasan

Wed Dec 03 16:12:39 IST 2025

Krishnan Srinivasan, Kris to those who know him, has had an extraordinarily distinguished career as a diplomat, as well as an author of scholarly works relating to various aspects of international relations. He has had diplomatic experience in parts of the Middle East and several spells as Head of Mission in Africa. His tenure, at a turbulent time in the history of Bangladesh, resulted in a major book dealing with the fall of General Ershad, the military ruler of Bangladesh. Apart from describing the role of civil society in that revolution, the author includes a memoir of his years as head of the mission in Dacca, now Dhaka. In later years, after serving as Foreign Secretary, the author wrote a book about this period called Diplomatic Channels.

After his tenure of several years as Deputy Secretary General of the Commonwealth in London, the author wrote a scholarly work on the Rise and Decline of the Commonwealth. During his long academic career, Kris spent time at Wolfson College and at the Centre for International Studies at Cambridge.

The author shares with this reviewer a college at Oxford, Christ Church, where we both spent time, about six years apart from each other.

Just before COVID struck the world in 2020, the author was engaged in the production of a scholarly work on Values in Foreign Policy. This reviewer had the privilege of being associated with this project and made a small contribution to it. The author has continued all these years to publish articles on subjects relating to international matters in the leading newspapers of India.

After such a storied diplomatic and academic career, it is a refreshing surprise to learn that the author has written detective stories in several volumes! In fact, the book under review is the 8th in this series!

Kolkata Crimes is a set of 7 detective tales of a little under 300 pages; the stories are racy, full of suspense, intrigue and mystery, which unfold mainly in the city of Calcutta of yore, now ‘Kolkata’ as in the title.

The author takes us, in the book, to many areas of this teeming metropolis, which in the early 20th century was called the City of Palaces (a reference to the magnificent buildings in central Calcutta). He describes places such as Gariahat, a middle-class area with a strong Bengali population. The ancient Tollygunge club features in the book in more than one story. The golf course in this historic club is said to be the second oldest course in the world after St Andrews, the prototype, in Scotland!

There are two main characters in Kolkata Crimes, who appear in each story. In fact, both characters are in all the earlier detective novels written by the author. One is a former Somali diplomat who has suffered immense personal tragedy: Ambassador Michael Marco has had a few postings abroad, and one in India as a trade consul. He stays in Calcutta at an establishment colourfully called the “Wise Owl”. Ambassador Marco, in the course of these stories, makes utterances which are often reminiscent of his abode!

His conversations with Koel Deb, the other main character in the book, are replete with rare insights into human behaviour, nuggets of wisdom, and sometimes scintillating wit!

Koel Deb herself is a brilliant young woman who has a prosthetic arm, the result of an earlier serious accident. Deb stood first in the civil service exams, but chose not to join the higher civil services, including the Foreign Service. Instead, she opted for the Indian Police Service. After her debilitating accident, she set up shop as a private detective, using her experience and contacts made during service in the police force as well as in other echelons of Calcutta society.

Deb’s chosen mode of transport, rather unusually, is a large Harley Davidson motorcycle on which she buzzes about the labyrinth of Calcutta’s streets and bylanes.

The author draws sketches, with much facility, of some of the fascinating characters in these pages. There is Shahnaz Sarodana in Bombay, for example, most likely a Parsi, a racehorse owner who is concerned about her prize filly ‘Catalytic’ and its safety. The Mahalaxmi Race Course in Central Bombay is the place where her valuable horse is stabled. There are fears that some people might take action to harm this horse. This is how Koel Deb, the detective, is brought into the story.

The first meeting with Sarodana is described by Deb in these words: “Mrs Sarodana rose with a smile as I entered the terrace. It did not light up her face suddenly, but seemed to suffuse it by deliberate degrees. Her hair was presumably dyed because it was jet black and sleek and shining and sculpted around the ears. She was slim and held herself upright, but it was her beringed hands that most clearly betrayed her age that was in the late 50s, because they had none of a young woman’s soft roundness.”

Talking of the fashionable Sardona and her position in society:

“In her circle, her social decrees were law, but she was said to have too many admirers not to have an equal number of enemies.”

Then there is the Swiss former diplomat, Hans Hartman, who learned Sanskrit in Benares and became a specialist in the languages of the Kuki and Mizo tribes of North East India.

To add an air of mystery and barely disguised menace, Hartman is described as: “Not everyone regarded Hartman as a harmless elderly scholar. To some who claimed to be in the know, he was a man of violent mood swings, an odd character who alienated people by being abrupt and who had generated gossip for decades... someone considered unstable and unfit for social life.”

The Swiss Scholar has an adopted daughter acquired from the orphanages of Kalimpong and Kurseong in northern Bengal. The girl is apparently of European descent, judging from a description of her physical features. Hartman and his daughter are the central figures in this particular story, which also involves a cast of other characters!

There is also a Japanese person by the name of Nakamura Sato. He is into buying art by famous Indian artists and invests in a Rabindranath Tagore painting. Sato is described by Parul, the lady looking after the art gallery, in the following way: “These Japanese people are so smart and hi-tech and sell their products all over the world, and they have made so much money that they have more dollars than they know what to do with. Their latest fashion is to invest in art from abroad.”

Parul is, in fact, referring to a type of Japanese who made huge amounts of money during the ‘bubble period’ in the 1980s. That was a time when land values in Japan hit astronomical heights; the Imperial Palace in central Tokyo, for example, was valued as equal to almost all of Manhattan!

Nakamura is obviously a Japanese of the ‘bubble era’ ilk! He and the gallery are involved in alleged forgery and a network of con artists, which leads to unexpected situations!

There is the incredibly smooth, glib, slightly shady society dentist Augustin. Augustin has little time for the hoi polloi, mixing as he does with Calcutta high society. His posh friends, heads of the top clubs in the city, the odd diplomat and other big business tycoons have swinging parties at his special flat, maintained ‘ostensibly’ for such purposes. What actually happens at such fun parties is the subject of this story and needs to be read and enjoyed!

The characters in the book include some from the underworld of Calcutta. The bar owner of the Olympia Café, Shirish Saha, is a case in point: “with a flat face and thinning hair... With a loud voice, big paunch and a broad false smile... like other bars in this area, it could have been a front for drugs, women and small arms. The local police were always welcome to use the place gratis, and were compensated sufficiently to look the other way!”

In this part of the book, there is a display of an uncanny familiarity with the nefarious activities in the seamy slums of Calcutta. There are also scenes in picturesque places such as Kala Bhavan at Shantiniketan, the university set up by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore in the early 20th century.

At Kala Bhavan, the fine arts centre, there is an encounter between a dour, humourless lawyer, Anirban Raha and the detective Koel Deb; she describes her meeting thus: “Raha greeted me with all the enthusiasm of an usher at a funeral... waiting with the saturnine Raha could not help anyone’s mood, but there was nothing for it except to sit as far apart as possible... and listen to Raha expounding the laws of consumer fraud.” This meeting relates to the same story, which is set in the art gallery of Calcutta mentioned above.

As might be expected of an author who has spent a lifetime dealing with politicians of varying hues, there are perceptive comments on domestic political situations in India. In one story, the following description is illustrative of this undoubted skill of the author: “The Kolkata Police Commissioner was obliged to hold a press conference on the instructions of the Chief Minister, who felt, perhaps unwisely, that it was better to head off any criticism or false rumours by revealing what could be revealed... Commissioner Prasanta Chandra, flanked by a laconic Dutta and Shankar (who remained silent under the nation’s Home Minister’s strict injunction), did the best he could in front of a querulous crowd of journalists.” Many such journalists “had been confidentially briefed by the New Delhi Union government to make things uncomfortable for the West Bengal state government.”

Those familiar with current domestic politics in India would see the accuracy with which the tenuous juxtaposition between the central government in Delhi and the state government in Bengal has been described by the author.

Running through the book are dalliances of various varieties, extramarital affairs galore, some tender with a degree of depth, others imbued with starkly dark malice. Almost all such liaisons are inextricably intertwined with high intrigue, blood–curdling danger and in some cases death.

Many of the stories in the book have a number of literary and musical references, which lighten the narrative with attractive interludes. Ambassador Marco responds to Koel’s statement about an occasion when she listened to Verdi’s Aida in Italian in Delhi, with the following: “Ah, Minnie (the name he uses for Ms Deb), how satisfying. If only my dream might come true! And to you my heavenly Aida, to return crowned with laurels.”

Similarly, while talking to a young student, Hirak, Marco says:

“Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.” Hirak’s quizzical look is answered by Ambassador Marco with much aplomb: “Shakespeare, Hirak, ‘Measure for Measure’.”

Again, while driving in Hirak’s car, Marco says to him, in response to a remark by the young student: “Perhaps you are right, Hirak. But as Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai said when asked about his assessment of the French Revolution: ‘It is too soon to say’.”

Hirak, needless to say, is duly impressed by the erudite ambassador.

There are many more such quotes from literature and from Latin with which the author shows much familiarity. In the story about the art gallery in Calcutta, the author displays his admiration for the work of some of the greatest Indian artists, including Raja Ravi Varma, MF Husain, KK Hebbar, Francis Souza, Laxma Goud and KCS Paniker.

As one might expect in detective stories, there are several points of palpable tension in the narrative. This is so in the story about a group of actors touring in Cooch Behar. Here is an example: “Satish played a card game of Solitaire by himself. Prabhat filed his nails and sulked. Asha stared at her mobile phone as if it explained the mysteries of the universe. And they seemed to be warily watching each other as well, creating an intense atmosphere... they seemed to be sticking to each other, because each of them was afraid to leave the others alone for some reason.”

No detective stories would be complete without a fair share of deaths, suspected murders and an occasional suicide. Kolkata Crimes does not lack any of these ingredients! On the contrary, there is a detailed litany of gory and at times grisly accounts of murders, which show a familiarity with medical detail: “Dutta gently opened the blouse to examine the cuts on her chest. As he did so, he and the paramedic leapt up in shock. The sternum of the corpse had been cut open and many of the ribs broken, exposing the interior cavity of her body...”

Equally macabre, when the same body was removed to a hospital, there is the following olfactory description: “The smell of antiseptic and cleanliness gave way to the smell of the dead and damaged... whether Indian or Swiss, poor or rich, the odour of the dead human being was identical.”

The last story, The Unravelling, which is the longest in the book, ends on a delightful, even if slightly enigmatic note!

To savour the many joys of reading this book, one has to go through each story carefully, in order to unravel the mysterious conclusion, which inevitably comes at the end of each chapter. In the case of this reviewer, some of the more complicated stories had to be read more than once!

It can be said without any hesitation that it was well worth the effort!

Title: Kolkata Crimes

Written by: Krishnan Srinivasan

Price: Rs 499

Published by: Har-Anand Publications Pvt Ltd

ghosted-review-a-trip-through-delhi-s-haunted-corners

Wed Dec 03 10:30:18 IST 2025

Humanity’s fascination with ghosts is old and persistent. Ancient Egyptians once wrote letters to their dead relatives, hoping they would help in addressing their earthly troubles. Shakespeare’s ghost of King Hamlet refuses to leave the cultural imagination. Closer home, Rajasthan’s Bhangarh Fort is branded among “India’s most haunted”. And if you shift the gaze to Delhi, the capital’s own landscape is littered with fabled apparitions – from Firoz Shah Kotla’s djinns to the twin graves of Jamali-Kamali and the brooding isolation of Malcha Mahal, among others.

And it’s this enduring appetite for the other world – inhabited by ghosts and djinns – that author Eric Chopra, of Itihasology fame, taps into in his new book Ghosted: Delhi’s Haunted Monuments, published by Speaking Tiger.

The cover is striking. Its purple-orange palette creates an immediate sense of mystery and is anchored by a picture of the tomb of Jamali-Kamali, the site with which Chopra opens his book.

Located in the Mehrauli Archaeological Park, the place is believed to be inhabited by djinns, who, if you leave your hair untied, would “slap you,” or marry you. “At least, I won’t leave single,” Chopra quipped at the recent launch of his book in Delhi, while recounting his experience while entering the site. It’s the kind of lightness he brings to Ghosted, though never in a way that makes the subject feel trivial.

A case for popular history

It isn’t the academic history that Chopra is after, but popular history—history as lived, retold and ritualised. The book doesn’t pretend to settle the what, when, and why of Delhi’s haunted sites. Instead, it looks at how ordinary people relate to the remains of the past: forts, palaces, temples, tombs, dargahs, and the stories that cling to them.

For example, it doesn’t matter that the towering pillar that stands in the middle of Firoz Shah Kotla, another of Delhi’s “haunted” spaces—is the Ashokan pillar, bearing the ancient Buddhist king’s dhamma. But for the countless believers who visit it on Thursdays, with their handwritten pleas, threads and even Aadhar cards, it’s Lath Waale Baba, a djinn they petition. It’s this belief that draws crowds to Nanhe Miya, Bade Miya and the rest of Kotla’s spectral bureaucracy.

And it’s not that Chopra surrenders to these beliefs. He simply refuses to judge them.

And in about 250 pages, he traces Delhi’s haunted geography, while weaving in how people engage with history now, whether through heritage walks or fashion. He cites designer Karan Torani’s 2020 menswear collection, Jamali Kamali, inspired by the relationship of the duo — whose true relationship nobody knows, though many believe they were lovers. Here, Chopra also weaves in his relationship with historical sites and figures. For example, about Jamali-Kamali, he writes: “But has Jamali-Kamali been a monument that allowed many queer people, including myself, to look at our histories from a much more inclusionary lens?”

Of Firoz & Zafar

One of Ghosted’s most notable choices is its treatment of historical figures—not as untouchable icons or villains, nor as mere names in a textbook, but as people who once lived. So Firoz Shah Tughlaq simply becomes Firoz; Bahadur Shah Zafar is Zafar; Abdur Rahim Khan-i-Khanan is “the Rahim ke Dohe fame”, and about Babur, he writes: “The first Mughal was a diarist.”

“When you use epithets, or salutation, or think of them as grand sultans and poets, you lose the human,” Chopra said at his book launch.

The approach may not seem extraordinary, but at a time when historical figures are either glorified or vilified, it humanises them, while also allowing the book to read, at times, like fiction, enhancing engagement.

A compelling read

In the end, Ghosted is an engaging read, with some chapters stronger than others. The standout is the chapter on Malcha Mahal, whose mysterious occupants claimed to be the Awadhi royals and successors of Wajid Ali Shah. They lived there until 2017 without running water or electricity, and one of them reportedly died by suicide after consuming crushed diamonds — adding another layer to the site’s eerie history.

Chopra also notes, with a touch of wry humour, how many of Delhi’s haunted sites trace back to Firoz Shah Tughlaq. “His ubiquitousness wherever there is a hint of the supernatural is bewildering,” he writes, highlighting the sultan’s curious persistence in the city’s spectral lore.

And whether you believe in ghosts or not, Ghosted makes for a compelling read, even nudging you to visit one of these sites, just to see for yourself.

the-enforcer-review-a-unique-portrait-of-the-cop-who-dismantled-ups-crime-machine

Sun Nov 30 13:40:31 IST 2025

Journalist Anirudhya Mitra stepped into Prashant Kumar’s room for their initial chat, bracing himself for someone loud; maybe even arrogant—the kind linked to UP’s shootout stories.

Instead, out came a quiet guy in neat white clothes who grinned a little and offered: “You go first.”

This brief exchange—simple, surprising, slightly reserved—becomes the core of The Enforcer: An IPS Officer’s War on Crime in India’s Badlands, a story trying to grasp the person beneath one of India’s most-debated police chapters.

The man after the machine

In the tense fields of Jaunpur and the shadowy lanes of Ghaziabad run by gangs, Prashant Kumar’s first assignments felt like battlefield reports.

Through these rough patches of Uttar Pradesh, Mitra follows the cop’s path, where grit met careful tactics. Kumar's name grew not in a flash, but steady pressure and sharp moves on the ground. Cases like Nitish Katara's killing come up often, because they not only made headlines, but also revealed how Kumar worked—chasing leads non-stop, locating witnesses others missed, and demanding solid proof, despite powerful figures being involved.

Still, it wasn't just tough breaks and big wins. Kumar missed moments with his family: time he couldn’t get back.

His wife, an IAS officer, along with their daughter, dealt with constant moves, late-night calls, and risks that came with the job. Since she was posted in UP, he ended up there too. That twist set him on a path not only as a civil servant, but also as a key player in cracking down on crime across the state.

The mission: Dismantling UP’s crime ecosystem

Once Yogi Adityanath’s team took charge in 2017, their goal was clear—crack down on criminal groups, illegal rackets, and strong-arm operations to make Uttar Pradesh safer.

Kumar led the push from the front. His story covers big raids, shootouts by cops, and the confiscation of assets running into billions, all while chasing powerful figures who treated entire areas as their own private empires.

Instead of moving into the lavish DGP bungalow, Kumar stayed in a small house paid for by himself.

“You lose your grip,” he remarked quietly, typical of his low-key way.

'The Enforcer' manages to pull off a raw, close-up story about a guy right in the middle of one of India’s biggest police operations. It shows his side—real and flawed, but not a flawless hero.

A compelling, contested book

Those into crime tales, power plays, cops, or modern UP life will find this book gripping. It’s fast-paced, complex stuff, told with sharp edges. A story that pulls no punches when showing how things really run behind the scenes.

It’s part homage, yet kind of a challenge, as it shows how crime and fairness in India aren’t clear-cut.

The tale lives in the blur, just like Prashant Kumar does, moulded by force, responsibility, and influence, but also an inner voice.

Title: The Enforcer: An IPS Officer’s War on Crime in India’s Badlands

Written by: Anirudhya Mitra

Price: Rs 699

Published by: Juggernaut

fortune-seekers-review-a-deep-dive-into-nattukottai-chettiars-business-empire

Wed Nov 12 17:06:01 IST 2025

"Fortune Seekers: A Business History of Nattukottai Chettiars" is an enchanting story of how a Tamil business community rose from its humble origins to dominate the business sector in the 19th century. The book captures the rise of the community in Southeast Asian commerce, from the 1800s to the late 1900s. Raman Mahadevan chronicles the business communities before colonialism and how the world wars brought about a decline in the business fortunes of the community.

As the book's title, "Fortune Seekers," suggests, the author maintains this focus throughout the writing, highlighting the factors that contributed to their fortunes from their heyday with the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 to the Great Depression of the 1920s. Raman Mahadevan writes on Chettiars and their business prospects in line with Penguin India’s multi-volume series on the stories of Indian business. This book is the fifth in the series, which has featured four prominent Indian business communities: the Marwaris, Kachchis, Khatris, and Sindhis. While the mantra of most of these business communities has always been "buy low and sell high," this was also the Chettiars’ philosophy.

The book delves in detail into the early history of Chettiars and how the community shifted from trading to indigenous banking. During the medieval period, the community was active as traders both within and outside India. In the first chapter, the author traces the early history of the community, how and why they migrated in 789 BCE from Naganadu, north of Chennai near present-day Kanchipuram, to the Chettinad region in the south, known then as the Pandya kingdom. The community from the northern region moved to Kaveripoompattinam, present-day Poompuhar near Tranquebar, owing to high taxes imposed by the rulers. It was here at Poompuhar, a flourishing seaport due to the Dutch, French, and Portuguese presence, that the Chettiars learned trading and maritime skills. However, again owing to persecution by the Chola kings, they migrated to the Pandya kingdom, present-day Chettinad in the Sivaganga region.

Raman Mahadevan weaves into his writing the trust, combined with risk-taking tendencies and the courage of the community members, and their intra-community banking structure that they developed. This banking structure was the strength of their overseas business.

Raman Mahadevan writes in detail, recalling the several ups and downs in the economy, the invasions in Southeast Asia, and how they led to the rise and fall of the Chettiars. The Chettiars stood apart from other communities and proved successful not just because of their foray in trading and banking skills, but they were resilient because of their intra-caste model. The clans in the community, grouped under nine temples in the 78 villages in Sivaganga and Ramnad district, once monopolized the salt trade.

As a person hailing from this region, I am used to most of the terms that Raman Mahadevan mentions in the book, such as Kittangi, Mahimai, Valavu, mudalali, melal, nadappu, terms used by the Chettiar community in their banking network. At one point in the 1800s, the Chettiar community flourished because of their unity and the joint family system. Like the Marwaris, the joint family system in the Chettiar community can be witnessed with their Valavu and the designated kitchens each of the families had. This was the basic spirit of the community to foster enterprise.

As they migrated from Poompuhar and were well-versed in maritime trade, they slowly began using the Ramanathapuram and Thondi sea routes to sail out and reach Sri Lanka. They traded salt, spices, and pearls. Apart from Colombo, the community had business in Malaysia, Singapore, and went up to Thailand and Cambodia, which Raman Mahadevan tracks meticulously, using the legendary figures and the large business groups from the Nattukottai Chettiar community.

The author brings in many unknown stories and the crises that led to the decline of Chettiar supremacy: the Second World War and the Japanese occupation of most of Southeast Asia from 1942, and how most of the Chettiar groups were reluctant to exit from their traditional occupational sphere. The events in Burma soon after the Second World War had a destabilizing and unnerving effect on the renowned Chettiar spirit, so that a majority of the small and medium Chettiar firms became reluctant to continue in their traditional line of banking business. This community was the one hit by the enormous losses incurred in Burma, as they did not foresee the aftermath of the Japanese occupation. They were reduced to pledging their valuables and even stripping the teak doors from their houses to support their daily living. Called the Nattukottai Chettiars or the Nagarathars – the name commonly used to differentiate them from other Chettiars – the author describes in detail how they soared to great heights and how they eventually went off the radar.

The author profiles a few large Chettiar groups of companies, such as the M.A. Annamalai Chettiar, M.Ct, A.M.M. Chettiar, or the present-day Murugappa Group. These groups managed to repatriate capital well before the Japanese occupation and the Second World War, while most others from the community did not foresee the outcome. He also features others like Karumuthu Thiagaraja Chettiar and A. Nagappa Chettiar, who had weaker business ties but still managed to establish major businesses.

Overall, "Fortune Seekers" gives an in-depth view of the communities' heyday, rise, and decline of business acumen and fortunes, while delving into their culture and lifestyle.

Fortune Seekers: A Business History of Nattukottai Chettiars

Author: Raman Mahadevan

Publisher: Penguin Business

Pages: 235

Price: Rs 599

power-and-purpose-offers-a-glimpse-into-75-pivotal-moments-in-india-s-foreign-policy-since-independence

Fri Nov 07 18:16:14 IST 2025

With the world’s most populous country gearing up to claim its rightful place on the high table of the world’s comity of nations, the interest on India’s rise in economic and military might, along with its diplomatic strategy, has gained interest exponentially.

A carefully-curated book that divides the Indian foreign policy in its entirety from the time of Independence in 1947 to present times into four distinct ‘waves’ and further dissecting the four broad periods into 75 pivotal moments is a good read for anyone trying to understand Indian diplomacy and its impact through these events.

Besides the clarity of ideas, accurate chronicling and scholarly expertise, the book has a unique style. Power and Purpose: Rediscovering Indian Foreign Policy in Amrit Kaal by Harsh V Pant and Anant Singh Mann divides Indian foreign policy into 'State-building and the Nehruvian Outlook' from the 1947-1964 period, 'Regional Consolidation and Antagonisms' from 1964-1985, 'Opening up to the World' from 1985-2004 and 'On the Path to Global Leadership' from 2004 to the present. In that order, if the book begins with the event of India attaining independence and the Korean crisis in 1950, it ends with India’s G20 Presidency in 2023.

Some defining chapters event-wise, that have impacted Indian foreign strategy in a big way, could possibly be the Dalai Lama seeking political asylum in 1959, the India-Pakistan wars including Siachen and Kargil developments, the economic liberalisation in 1991, the Pokhran nuclear tests, the Quad, Kashmir, the G20 Presidency, and the evolution of India’s Look East policy, etc.

With the world currently caught in a global geopolitical and geo-strategic churn with a global power contestation between the US and China, wars raging in the Israel-Palestine and Russia-Ukraine regions, India as an emerging power becomes much more than an abiding interest for strategists, academics, practitioners, diplomats, students and others. It is in these aspects that the book is a worthy read.

Title: Power and Purpose: Rediscovering Indian Foreign Policy in Amrit Kaal
Author: Harsh V. Pant and Anant Singh Mann
Pages: 288
Price: Rs 425
Publisher: Rupa Publications India

commanded-by-destiny-a-generals-rise-from-soldier-to-statesman-review-chronicling-indian-armys-transition-since-1947

Fri Nov 07 15:56:50 IST 2025

It is said that when processes are executed very efficiently, one doesn’t notice the transitory pauses and hiccups. The astoundingly smooth transition of the Indian military—among other processes how Kings Commissioned Indian Officers made way for Commissioned Indian Officers—as it transited from owing allegiance to the British flag to the tricolour after 1947, is nothing short of spectacular.

In view of the fact that not much has been written upon it, any literature during that transitory phase is a welcome one. The painstaking and detailed notes, replete with personal anecdotes, made by General Satyawant Mallanah Srinagesh, Chief of Army Staff from 1955 to 1957, and carefully preserved by his family make for revealing reading. In that sense, ‘Commanded by Destiny—A General’s Rise from Soldier to Statesman’ is a pathblazer.

The accounts include not just the General’s 34 years in the army but also his gubernatorial terms in Assam, Andhra Pradesh and Mysore and a tenure at the Administrative Staff College of India—truly the saga of a journey from being a soldier to that of a statesman.

Rooted in the ethos of strict professionalism and pure nationalism, how the Indian military overcame institutional challenges to become one of the most respected modern armies in the contemporary world is the most important takeaway from the book.

Instrumental in helping provide a modern character to the Indian Army, Gen Srinagesh held out the importance of a truly national army that is still considered as the flag-bearer of nationalism, yet unburdened with the trappings of region, religion, language, caste and creed—a near impossibility in a country as diverse as India.

During India’s colonial era, the men were entirely Indian natives, while the officers were overwhelmingly British. This led to a belief that Indians were incapable of strong military leadership. It took men like Gen Srinagesh to dispel that notion. As corps commander, he was the one to land tanks at the 11,500 feet high Zoji La pass.

It was the discipline and military acumen that the general imbibed during his military years that aided his tenures as governor. It may have been among the early instances of retired military officers called to assume gubernatorial duties.

invisible-in-plain-sight-takes-readers-through-the-psychological-landscape-of-kamathipura

Fri Oct 17 16:20:31 IST 2025

In the heart of Mumbai’s oldest red-light district, where narrow lanes coil through layers of neglect, survival and silence, Swati Pandey finds voices that the city has long chosen to ignore. Invisible in Plain Sight: Voices from the By-Lanes of Kamathipura is not a voyeuristic peep into a world of vice; it is, instead, an act of witness. Written by a senior bureaucrat who entered Kamathipura as Postmaster General of Mumbai, the book blurs the boundaries between the official and the personal, the observer and the participant, the state and the street.

Pandey’s first encounter with Kamathipura began as a government project—an initiative to ensure financial inclusion for sex workers through India Post. But what began as a job soon became, as she writes, “a journey full of emotions; a journey of both hope and despair.” The prologue, written in a measured, almost cinematic cadence, draws the reader into the “jungle” that Kamathipura represents in her metaphor—where the laws of survival are brutal, and empathy is scarce.

Her prose is rich and visual, often tinged with the unease of someone who knows she does not quite belong to the world she is entering. Through the stories of women like Salma, Rani, and Kajol—each navigating their own precarious lives—Pandey paints a portrait of quiet resilience amid systemic violence. The women here are not moral symbols or case studies; they are complex, contradictory, alive. “I realised,” Pandey reflects in one of the book’s many self-aware passages, “that the women I was sent to serve were not victims waiting for help—they were warriors fighting every single day to protect their dignity.”

The book’s strength lies in its tone. Pandey does not romanticise Kamathipura, nor does she write from a place of moral superiority. Her training as a civil servant lends her a clarity of structure, but what truly elevates the narrative is her empathy. The bureaucratic gaze gives way to a human one, allowing her to inhabit the women’s stories without appropriating them. Each chapter, titled after an animal—The Bloodthirsty Hyenas, The Jungle is Alive, The Warm-Nested Pigeon—unfolds like a fable grounded in harsh realism. The metaphor of the jungle, while occasionally overstretched, becomes a literary spine holding the fragments together.

Pandey’s Kamathipura is not just a geographical location; it is a psychological landscape—of shame, resistance, and invisibility. The district, as she reminds us in her meticulously researched sections, is one of Asia’s oldest red-light areas, its history intertwined with colonial Bombay and the city’s own evolution as a hub of commerce and migration. Yet, her narrative is not trapped in sociology. It pulses with lived experience, drawn from conversations that linger long after they are over.

“I went there thinking I could change their circumstances,” she tells me in conversation. “But what changed was my understanding of power—who really holds it, and who quietly lives without it.”

At its best, the book reads like an ethnography with a soul. The author’s language—at once lyrical and restrained—transports readers to spaces that smell of cheap perfume and damp alleys, yet shimmer with humanity. There are moments when the book’s structure meanders, and the allegorical tone feels slightly heavy-handed. But those are small quibbles in a work that insists on seeing what others have refused to.

The photographs in the book add a crucial layer to Pandey’s narrative—transforming it from mere documentation into lived testimony. They capture not only the women of Kamathipura but also the gradual breaking of barriers between the bureaucrat and the community. In one frame, Pandey sits among a sea of women during a Milaap session on mental health, laughing and listening; in another, she ties rakhis with them, a gesture of affection and equality. A particularly resonant image shows her inaugurating the All Women Post Office in Kamathipura in 2021—an initiative that employed women from the area and gave them a new sense of dignity and belonging. Other photographs trace the outreach to children: an Aadhaar enrolment drive, and The Times of India clipping highlighting postcards made from the paintings of sex workers’ children—visual proof of empowerment finding expression in art. Together, these images turn the book into a living archive of empathy and action, showing what it means when governance touches ground.

By the end, Pandey steps back, allowing the women to reclaim the narrative. The last chapters, especially Kamathipura: A Jungle Within, are a quiet triumph—a meditation on empathy, privilege, and the uneasy coexistence of policy and pain. “If I left Kamathipura with anything,” she says, “it was a sense of humility. You can only serve people when you have first learned to see them.”

In giving these women names, memories, and moments of ordinary tenderness, Swati Pandey ensures that Kamathipura is no longer invisible. It stands, unflinching, in the reader’s line of sight—refusing pity, demanding understanding.

Author: Swati Pandey
Publisher: Juggernaut Books, 2025
Pages: 276
Price: Rs 799

crooked-plow-review-itamar-vieira-junior-decodes-subaltern-faith-in-a-sea-of-misery

Thu Sep 25 16:46:06 IST 2025

Itamar Vieira is a young and upcoming Brazilian writer. 'Crooked Plow' (Torto Arado) is his first novel, available in English. He has earlier written a short story collection too.

Although Itamar Vieira is a new author, the themes and characters of his novel are familiar to me. They are similar to those of my favourite Brazilian writer Jorge Amado, whose famous novels include titles such as 'Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands' and 'Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon'.

'Crooked Plow' is the story of the struggles and misery of subsistence farmers in the rural areas of Bahia, northeastern Brazil—poor in development, but rich in culture.

The main characters are the seven and six-year-old sisters Bibiana and Belonisia. They find a knife in the old suitcase of their grandmother. Bibiana puts the knife in her mouth, trying to taste the glittering metal. Belonisia pulls out the knife violently from her sister’s mouth in order to taste it herself.

In this childish fight, Bibiana loses her tongue while the other’s tongue is hurt badly.

After this, the sisters become each other's voice with a muted bond. The author describes them thus:

"When they interacted, one of them would need to become more perceptive, read more attentively the sister’s eyes and gestures. They would become one. The sister who lent her voice studied the body language of the sister who was mute. The sister who was mute transmitted—through elaborate gestures and subtle movements—what she wanted to communicate. For this symbiosis to occur and endure, their differences had to be put aside. They devoted their time to gaining a new understanding of each other’s bodies. At first, it was hard for both, very hard: the constant repetition of words, picking up objects, pointing here and there so that one sister might grasp the other’s intention. As the years passed, this shared body language became an extension of their individual expressions until each of them almost became the other, but without losing herself. Sometimes, one would get annoyed with the other, but the pressing need for one sister to communicate something, and for the other to translate it, made it so that they would both forget what had annoyed them in the first place."

The silenced sister symbolises the voiceless poor Afro-Brazilians.

Later, the sisters would fight with each other over a boyfriend. Bibiana used the same knife once to save a woman from her drunken husband and then to kill the owner of their estate, who tries to evict the tenants and sell the land.

Itamar Vieira narrates in detail the struggles of the tenant farmers in the rural estates (called Fazendas in Portuguese).

"They could build houses of mud, but not brick, nothing enduring to mark how long a family had been on the land. They could cultivate a small plot of squashes, beans, and okra, but nothing that would distract them from the owner’s crops because, after all, working for the owner was what enabled them to live on this land. They could bring their women and children: the more the merrier, in fact, because eventually the children would grow up and replace whoever was too old to work. The owner of the plantation would have confidence in them, trust them; they’d be his godchildren. Money, there’d be none of that, but there’d be food on the table. The workers could make their home on the plantation with no problem, without being harassed. They just had to follow the rules."

The tenant farmers are forced to buy necessities from the overpriced estate shop which make the tenants perpetually in debt. Their children join the workforce to pay off the debt. They are expected to be grateful to the estate owners for allowing them a place to live.

When a young, rebellious farmer tries to ask for more rights, he is killed by the hired assassins of the owner. The police close the case, falsely alleging that the farmer was growing marijuana and got killed in a fight with drug traffickers.

The subsistent farmers would smile and some would even jump with joy when they noticed rain clouds finally looming, and from the land rose a freshness that farmers liked to call a bit of 'luck'. They said you could dig a little into the dry mud and actually feel the moisture arriving, feel that the earth was a bit cooler: a sign the drought was coming to an end. The women would put empty buckets out to catch the rain. The plantation would resound with the old songs of the local women bringing their laundry down to the widening river or carrying their hoes to clear their small plots and do some slash-and-burn farming. The men could join the women only after they’d cleared the vast fields for planting the landowners’ crops."

The tongueless sister did not like the teaching in the new school opened in the estate. "She preferred to immerse herself in the woods, walking up and down the trails, learning all about herbs and roots. She learned about clouds, too, how they’d foretell rain, all the secret changes of sky and earth. She learned that everything is in motion—quite different from the lifeless things taught in school. She walked with her father watching the movement of animals, insects, and plants. Her father couldn’t read or do sums, but he knew the phases of the moon. He knew that under a full moon you could plant almost anything, although manioc, banana, and other fruits liked to be sown under a new moon; under a waning moon, it wasn’t time for planting but for clearing the land. He knew that for a plant to grow strong, you needed to weed around each one every day, reducing the risk of pests. You had to be vigilant, protecting the stalks, making small mounds of soil and watering carefully so they’d flourish. Whenever he encountered some problem in the fields, he would lie on the ground, his ear attuned to what was deep in the earth, before deciding what tools to use and what to do, where to advance and where to retreat. Like a doctor listening to a heartbeat."

The father of the girls, Zeca Chapeu Grande, is a tenant farmer and a healer for the community. He would use local herbs to heal physical wounds and African ceremonies to heal the souls.

Most of the people here are of African origin.

They practice their ancient rituals and religious practices, and are used to seeing their neighbors going mad, teenage girls getting pregnant by estate officials, drunken husbands beating up wives and kids, broken families, orphaned children, and a hopeless existence.

Their precarious lives are made worse by periodic droughts, floods, and natural calamities.

During these times, they survive by faith in their African gods and rituals, and offerings to please them. They would mix up their African gods and rituals sometimes with the Christian faith imposed by the Catholic Church.

This novel has won several literary prizes and was shortlisted for the 2024 International Booker Prize. In an interview, the author says:

“For me, to write is an experience of surprise. I never know in advance the path my story will take."

He has already begun writing his next novel.

The author is an expert in Latin American affairs.

small-earthquakes-a-journey-through-lost-british-history-in-south-america-review-uncovering-britains-deep-influence-in-south-america

Sat Sep 20 15:45:51 IST 2025

While the Spanish and Portuguese colonized Latin America, the British have played a significant role in slavery, wars of independence, politics, lending, investment, railways and football in the region. These have been brought out by the author of the book who has done extensive research and travelled through the South American countries which had been impacted by the British.

Under the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht, Spain granted Britain a license to transport African slaves to its Latin American colonies. The London-based South Sea Company bought the contract from the British government for £9.5 million. Under the agreement, the firm could transport 4,800 enslaved Africans a year for the next three decades to Latin American ports. Working with the Royal African Company and protected by the Royal Navy, the South Sea Company trafficked about 42,000 Africans—7,000 of whom died en route.

The defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815 left Britain awash with unemployed soldiers—as many as half a million, according to some estimates. Thousands of them decided to fight for the aspirant nations in Spanish-controlled South America. Many were simply mercenaries; others sought adventure or a sense of purpose; and some regarded themselves as freedom fighters. In 1817, a representative of Simón Bolívar, known as the Liberator of South America "(El Libertador) visited London on a recruitment drive. Over the following two years, more than 6,000 men sailed from Britain to fight in Bolivar’s army. They carried supplies of arms and military equipment provided on credit by British merchants.

Bernardo O’Higgins, the Chilean independence leader and the first Head of State, was of Irish origin from his father’s side. He had studied in London and wanted “to make Chile the England of South America”, and he advocated English and Irish immigration as the best guarantee of progressive political institutions in South America.’ O’Higgins championed the adoption of a British-style constitutional system but was ousted in 1823, after a controversial £1 million loan he secured from the British government that came—predictably enough—with decidedly unfavourable repayment terms. He set sail from Valparaíso on a British ship, spending the rest of his days in exile in Peru.

Admiral Thomas was a British naval officer who accepted the invitation to found Chile’s first navy and command it against Spanish forces. The nascent Chilean fleet was modelled on the Royal Navy and heavily staffed with British officers and sailors.

Officially, Britain was neutral during the wars of independence but nevertheless sought to prevent other European nations from militarily aiding Spain. The British government was quick to recognise the independence of the new nations and signed commercial treaties with them to advance British business interests.

In the 1850s, the British South American missionary society set up the first European settlement in Ushuaia to convert the local Yagan tribes into christianity. They had even brought some young members of the tribe to England to teach them English and the local culture and sent them back to their tribes to spread their new faith. The missionaries studied local languages and published dictionaries and books. The Argentine naval ships came much later to Ushuaia in 1884 to claim the region as part of their country.

In the 1880s, Argentina attracted 40–50 per cent of British foreign investment, most of which went into railways, ports, utilities, meat packing and trading. Between 1857 and 1920, more than 60,000 people from Britain came to Argentina. By the 1910s, British railway firms dominated the sector and were among the most valuable companies in Argentina. Opening in 1915, Retiro station in Buenos Aires city was once the hub of the biggest railway network in South America, extending across more than 27,000 miles of track at its peak in the 1940s. The Anglo-Argentine Tramways company built in 1913 Subte, the oldest underground railway in Latin America in Buenos Aires city. But many Argentines regarded railway companies as agents of imperialism and believed the country was being drawn into Britain’s ‘informal empire’.

The first overseas branch of Harrods opened in Buenos Aires in 1914 and once virtually spanned an entire block. It was subsequently sold to a local retailer but retained the iconic name; It closed in 1998, blighted by debts. Despite various attempts to re-open it over the years since, and the occasional temporary exhibition, it remains closed and near derelict.

The British firm Barings gave an exploitative £1 million loan in 1824 to the government in Buenos Aires to operate the city’s water and sewage system, which was originally designed by engineers from Ireland and Britain. The company was later criticized for political and economic meddling, scheming to topple governors and even promoting the 1864–70 War of the Triple Alliance, a devastating conflict between Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay on one side and Paraguay on the other.

Alexander Watson Hutton, brought over the first footballs to Argentina, created the country’s first football pitch and encouraged his pupils to play the game. In 1893, he founded the Argentine Football Association (AFA), one of the oldest in the world outside of the UK. Hutton is called as the father of Argentine football. Many of the early players were British and the country's numerous clubs that exist today had British or Anglo-Argentine founder. The British also introduced Polo, Rugby and even cricket in Argentina.

Today, around 50,000 to 70,000 people in Chubut province of Argentina, have Welsh heritage. As many as 6,000 of these speak the Welsh language.

British banks had partly financed the independence wars of Peru, Bolivia and Chile. Later, the banks used these debts to help British companies to take over local business including nitrate mines and guano trading. The British companies and government had roles in the Pacific war in which Chile grabbed large territories of Bolivia and Peru. This benefitted British robber-baron firms such as Antony Gibbs & Sons, which dominated the nitrate industry for the next forty years.

When the Chilean President José Manuel Balmaceda nationalized the concessions of Liverpool Nitrate Company ( owned by John Thomas North), the British government, along with the British companies intervened and incited a civil war in 1891. The president committed suicide after he was overthrown.

In his epic poetry collection Canto General, Neruda wrote about North, the ‘powerful gringo’, and his dealings with Balmaceda:

The smooth sterling pounds

weave like golden spiders

an English cloth, legitimate,

for my people, a suit tailored

with blood, gunpowder and misery.

Atacama in Chile was one of the most valuable places on earth because of nitrate which accounted for as much as 80 per cent of Chile’s exports. But while the world war prompted a short-term profit surge, it also triggered the collapse of the industry. Germany’s nitrate supplies were cut-off by a British-led blockade during the conflict, which forced the country to seek out alternatives. German Chemists Fritz Haber and Carl Bosch subsequently developed an industrial process that combined nitrogen in the air with hydrogen to produce ammonia, launching the era of artificial fertilisers. After the war, this method proved to be a cheaper and quicker way to supply farmers and arms manufacturers in Europe. This ended the nitrate fortunes of Atacama.

In 1973, the Conservative government of Edward Heath welcomed the Pinochet coup, with Foreign Secretary Alec Douglas-Home writing: ‘For British interests … there is no doubt that Chile under the junta is a better prospect than Allende’s chaotic road to socialism, our investments should do better, our loans may be successfully rescheduled, and export credits later resumed.’ Pinochet became a close ally of Margaret Thatcher, allowing a British surveillance team to use a Chilean military base in Punta Arenas to monitor Argentine air force operations during the Falklands War while also supplying crucial intelligence reports.

Britain had played a crucial role in the creation of an independent Uruguay in 1828. Britain was eager to create a buffer state between the two large warring nations of Brazil and Argentina in order to boost free trade, which, of course, would benefit Britain above all. A British envoy Lord Ponsonby, brokered the peace deal.

The British moved quickly into the independent Uruguay with lending and investment in railways, meat industry and trading. The British also introduced football in Uruguay.

The author is an expert in Latin American affairs

book-review-p-sesh-kumar-s-books-offer-insider-look-at-india-s-top-auditor

Wed Sep 17 22:13:23 IST 2025

Former Indian Audit and Accounts Service (IAAS) officer, P. Sesh Kumar, who spent significant time in the Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG), has penned two books about his experience, giving us a rare insider’s look into the working of the constitutional watchdog, an institution often in the news but seldom understood beyond its headline-making reports.

Kumar combines professional insight with candid reflections on the strengths and shortcomings of India’s top audit body. The first book, titled 'CAG – An Inside View'; and the second one, 'CAG - What it ought to be auditing', published by White Falcon Publishing, give a comprehensive overview of the auditing body, its process, its working, and his take on some of the key controversies.

The first book devotes considerable space to two of the most controversial episodes in recent memory—the CAG’s reports on the allocation of 2G spectrum and coal blocks. In the 2G case, the audit famously estimated “presumptive losses” of up to Rs 1.76 lakh crore, a figure that triggered political storms and court action.

Kumar says that the “presumptive loss” was not a recognised audit term, and reliance on 3G auction benchmarks and private equity valuations introduced subjectivity, while media and political parties amplified the highest figure.

Kumar acknowledges the flaws in methodology, particularly the reliance on extrapolated valuations, but argues that the report’s real impact lay in exposing arbitrary allocation practices. The Supreme Court’s cancellation of 122 licences and the subsequent shift to auctions, which yielded higher revenues, underscored the need for reform.

The coal allocation report, prepared under similar constraints and with incomplete access to files, also pointed to windfall gains for private players. Here too, Kumar notes the methodological difficulties but defends the audit’s role in prompting a more transparent, auction-based system.

The books are not limited to high-profile scams. Kumar recounts lighter episodes, such as an objection over the purchase of better-quality towels for a government guest house, flagging a loss of ₹2,500. The larger context that the towels were for senior officials and foreign dignitaries was ignored. “Loss is a loss, even if it’s over towels,” quipped the audit.

In another case, auditors flagged a “costly” paint job for helicopters without realising it was radar-resistant stealth coating, essential for national security. These anecdotes also highlight the difficulties of striking a balance between financial propriety and functional needs.

The books also draws attention to institutional challenges, the reluctance of ministries to part with records, delays in responses, and attempts to sidestep scrutiny. Kumar cites one striking example from 2020, when officials informally suggested adjusting fiscal reporting to boost revenues during the pandemic, with the hope that the CAG would not raise queries. He situates these episodes in the larger debate over the scope of the CAG’s mandate, recalling how the Supreme Court, only in 2012 confirmed its right to conduct performance audits.

Kumar does not shy away from pointing out missed opportunities, such as the CAG’s limited examination of demonetisation. At the same time, he makes a case for innovative performance audits in areas like wildlife conservation and even the justice delivery system, where inefficiency carries huge social and economic costs.

Politicians’ responses to audit reports, the book shows, have often been opportunistic, welcoming findings when in Opposition, questioning them when in power. From the BJP’s embrace of CAG reports during the UPA years, Kumar charts how political reactions have shifted with circumstances.

The first book is written in a clear, accessible style, even those not well-versed with accounting jargon may find it easy to understand. It is part memoir, part institutional history, and part commentary on governance. The discussion of the 2G and coal block reports is especially valuable, presenting both the limitations of audit methodology and the undeniable impact of those reports in reforming policy.

The second book is for professionals who want deeper insight into the working of the audit process and the way forward. Kumar makes a case for why the CAG remains central to India’s democratic accountability. These books are a valuable addition to literature on CAG, giving a peek into some of the most controversial reports that led to huge furore. The students, researchers, political scientists, auditors, and historians will find these books particularly readable because of their content.

CAG - An Inside View
White Falcon Publishing
pages 218
Rs 799

Second book
CAG - What it ought to be auditing?
White Falcon Publishing
Pages 571
Rs 899

notes-from-willingdon-island-book-review-a-deep-dive-into-keralas-port-transformation-and-economic-vision

Fri Sep 12 17:54:42 IST 2025

Managing a port is no small feat. It demands quick decision-making, skilful multitasking, occasional toughness and openness to change. Now place that challenge in a heavily unionised state like Kerala, where combative bargaining, inflated wages, and the ill-famed practice of nokkukooli (gawking wages) once wreaked havoc.

This is the backdrop against which N. Ramachandran, a former IPS officer, took charge of Cochin Port Trust in 2005. His tenure, until 2011, documented in Notes from Willingdon Island, presents a rare, hands-on account of how deep-rooted practices were flattened and long-overdue reforms implemented.

The book takes us inside Cochin Port’s transformation: from a union-heavy institution to a digitally-driven centre point of modern logistics. It also reflects Kerala’s larger spirit of rebuilding, demonstrating how endurance and timely political support can make change workable.

In the book, introduced by Congress leader Shashi Tharoor's foreword, the author recalls several telling episodes: a former chief minister of Kerala once deputed two ministers to support the author through a crisis until it was resolved; a powerful leader remained inaccessible till a local intermediary stepped in to assist the author; and at one point a local leader even resorted to abuse during negotiations with the author.

Skepticism surrounded Ramachandran's appointment. An officer of the 1978 Assam–Meghalaya cadre, Ramachandran had stepped into a role traditionally held by IAS officers. Critics dismissed him as a “bull in a china shop", while one newspaper labelled a police officer a misfit at the helm of a major port in the country. Undeterred, he and his team set about clearing cobwebs, rebuilding systems and preparing the port for the time ahead.

Among the book’s most compelling sections are those detailing landmark infrastructure projects and the push-and-pull that accompanied their implementation. These include the Vallarpadam International Container Transshipment Terminal, the Cochin LNG Terminal, and key highway and rail connectivity projects—initiatives that reshaped not only the port but also Kerala’s economic landscape. The book calls for reimagining Kerala’s maritime future, showing how responsible trade unionism, political support, and long-term vision can drive the state forward. It is unsparing in its assessment of the structural hurdles that continue to hold Kerala back.

In its concluding chapters, Ramachandran critiques the state’s ongoing economic stagnation and calls for diversification into sectors such as shipbuilding, blue tourism, and LNG utilisation—areas he sees as potential engines of resurgence. Interwoven with this forward-looking vision is a rich account of Cochin Port’s historic legacy, underscoring Kerala’s maritime identity and global relevance.

Notes from Willingdon Island is not only the story of one institution’s revival, but also a wide-ranging exploration of Kerala’s untapped potential. By positioning the port’s transformation within the broader context of state and nation, the book invites reflection from administrators, policymakers, and Kerala’s intelligentsia on reform, consensus building, and governance. Beyond everything, it highlights how leadership, political responsibility and the patience to traverse uncertainty are absolutely necessary for charting a viable and sustainable future for Kerala.

Notes From Willingdon Island

N. Ramachandran

Published by Konark Publishers Pvt Limited

pages: 334; price: Rs 900

everything-all-at-once-review-charting-indias-course-in-a-new-global-order

Sat Aug 30 18:40:51 IST 2025

The book, Everything All At Once, by former NITI Aayog vice chairman Rajiv Kumar and policy expert Ishan Joshi is an incisive look at the extraordinary transformations reshaping the global order and their implications for India. The authors unpack the world for us as they refer to six major global shifts: geopolitical, geographical, economic, technological, environmental, and demographic—all happening simultaneously, reshaping the future.

These changes make the world uncertain. Nationalism is rising, and protectionist policies are changing the global economy. At the same time, the old world order led by the US is losing influence, while China’s power continues to grow. Russia is also challenging Western control. Emerging economies are gaining strength, and new opportunities are opening up. Advancements in digital technology and AI are changing economies, education, and healthcare. Could we afford to ignore the environmental factors, with the urgent need to reduce carbon footprints and tackle climate change more pressing than ever?

‘Everything All At Once’ is an important contribution to contemporary debates on India’s future in a rapidly changing world. As the global order changes with the decline of Pax Americana, the authors discuss the need for India to recalibrate its relationship with China. While acknowledging the security concerns between neighbours, the book suggests that India should not completely ignore the economic and technological benefits of engaging with China. They propose that India should focus on building a mutually beneficial relationship, particularly in frontier technologies where China has established significant expertise.

However, the authors stress that this engagement should not come at the cost of national security. India needs to build its domestic capacity to manage potential risks, such as cybersecurity threats, including concerns about spyware and malware.

Their suggestion almost sounds prescient, as the Trump tariffs are pushing India to engage with China. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to Beijing to attend the SCO summit points towards the two nations looking at a mutually beneficial partnership.

The authors explore the Viksit Bharat vision propounded by Modi, and how India can move towards it by also embracing the concept of Antyodaya, which focuses on providing for the last person in the queue.

As a way forward to deal with uncertainty, the authors outline eight key reforms - NITI Ashtanga. These reforms, if followed, could help India achieve its goal of becoming a developed nation by 2050. These include strengthening social unity; improving accountability in governance; committing to net-zero emissions; creating jobs and bringing them to areas where they’re needed most; using AI to improve education and healthcare standards; and rethinking the relationship between the government and the private sector.

The book also introduces the idea of a 'coalition of the willing' among countries in Asia and Africa to tackle global issues like climate change, technology, and security, where India must take the lead.

Kumar and Joshi argue that India’s current administrative system, inherited from its colonial past, is holding back progress. While some steps have been taken to address this, such as reforming the criminal justice system, more needs to be done to improve governance at all levels.

The book also devotes attention to technology and human capital. India’s demographic dividend, the authors note, can only be fully realised through investment in education, digital infrastructure, and skill development.

As the authors discuss the global rise of India, calling it 'Vishwamitra rises', they remind us that social cohesion is essential, as “unbridled majoritarianism” will erode, rather than reinforce, our capacity to address challenges. “Sabka Saath, Sabka Vikas must apply to the entire population without any exception.”

‘Everything All At Once’ is wide-ranging and deep in its analysis. It is an important read for anyone interested in India’s future and its role in the global order. It is a call to action for Indian policymakers and thought leaders, as it nudges them to recognise and act upon the ongoing shifts.

Book: Everything All At Once

Written by: Rajiv Kumar and Ishan Joshi

Published by: RUPA

Price: Rs 695

Pages: 235

i-do-not-know-why-review-a-diplomats-reflection-on-borders-and-belonging-in-26-poems

Wed Aug 20 19:41:31 IST 2025

Popular culture tends to paint bureaucrats in extremes: they are either cronies, bending to the whims of corrupt politicians, or formidable messiahs. There is rarely anything in between. Interestingly, while bureaucrats remain figures of intrigue and awe, many have also turned their gaze outward — writing about how they perceive the world, often through the lens of their bureaucratic experience. Think Shashi Tharoor, Upamanyu Chatterjee, Navtej Sarna, Ashok Vajpeyi, and Gopinath Mohanty. In that tradition comes ‘I Do Not Know Why’, a collection of poems written over decades by former diplomat Aftab Seth, who served as India’s ambassador to Greece, Vietnam, and Japan.

This collection of 26 poems starts with a commentary on old age in ‘Some Day my Friend’.

“Some day my friend

You will also be my age,

When furtive morning mirror

Will glance at whiffs of white

On jet black mane,” writes Seth, as an accompanying painting echoes the sentiment: an old man staring intently into a mirror, where the reflection of his younger self begins to fade.

The themes are diverse. There are more intimate musings on lost relationships, the death of a parent, and the feeling when a child leaves home to pursue her life. For example, in ‘My Smiling Wreath’, he writes:

“To see you going away

To some other place;

For the first time, leaving our space

Where we remain

Watching over you,” which he writes about his daughter leaving for the US for higher education.

Then there are poems that make a statement — such as conflict, loss, and suffering. For example, referring to a friend in Mizoram, who suffered with his family during army actions there, Seth writes:

“In quivering innocent fear you watched

From far off forest

While they burned your house and shop,

Yet you forgave their fire

You, compassionate crucible”

There’s a poem on the India-Pakistan conflict, not a political but a personal take in ‘Broken Toys’. “Five years after we left Karachi and had arrived in Greece, I saw a photo in the papers of the ravaged house of the Consul General where we had lived for 3 years,” reads the description of the poem about the impact in Pakistan of the 1992 Babri Masjid demolition.

However, what’s vivid is the several travels a diplomat undertakes and the impact that they have had on him. For example, he writes about life in Japan and in Vietnam. There is a poem on travel on a luxury train and on Jodhpur’s magnificent fort, Mehrangarh, and there are those encapsulating his dislike for cricket and football.

“These stupid senseless baffoons

Who will later repent the spent moons

When they see the time they have wasted

In this awful pastime of the flannelled fools,” he writes in 'The Flannelled Fools', recalling his lack of interest in cricket.

In one especially poignant musing — ‘Our Verandah Tailor,’ written in 1993 in Athens — he writes:

“Your demented son on your trail

To torture you with complaints of his life

Unfulfilled, possessed, sterile, alone!

You bore his barbs in sad silence.”

While the themes are vivid and the words intimate, what enhances the experience is the presentation. Books are clearly no longer about pages and pages laden with words. In ‘I Do Not Know Why,’ each poem is accompanied by a vivid portrayal of the theme, which adds more layers to one’s imagination. It’s a thoughtful collection that touches on a wide range of subjects in a way that feels accessible. There’s nothing overtly personal or overtly political here—only lived experience, rendered with clarity, compassion, and craft.

Book: I Do Not Know Why: Poems by Aftab Seth

Publisher: Birch Books

Pages: 71

Price: Rs 857

the-lion-of-naushera-review-the-story-of-a-muslim-soldier-who-died-for-india

Fri Aug 15 15:49:10 IST 2025

The book 'The Lion of Naushera'—written by Anand Mishra and Ziya Us Salam and published by Bloomsbury—is much more than just a biography of Brigadier Mohammad Usman.

It is an unapologetic counter-narrative to the Hindu-Muslim divisive binaries, dismantling corrosive stereotypes. The book vividly notes the life of the Muslim officer who, at the time of the Partition, rejected lucrative offers from Pakistan’s military top brass and chose to serve the Indian Army with unshakable loyalty.

“The eyes of the world are on us … We must not falter, we must not fail them … India expects everyone to do his duty.”

These stirring lines, part of a Special Order issued by Usman before the decisive 1948 battles for Jhangar and Naushera, capture the essence of a man hailed as the “Lion of Naushera".

Just twelve days before his 36th birthday, Usman led his men to reclaim these strategic posts from Pakistani forces, who soon placed a ₹50,000 bounty on his head. He fell to enemy shelling in July 1948, leaving behind a legacy steeped in sacrifice.

Fluent in English, Urdu, Hindi, and Pashto—thanks to his family’s roots in Herat—Usman would recite Quranic verses before battle, drawing spiritual strength before leading from the front.

Commissioned in 1935 and a Captain by 1941, he earned a reputation as “the man who knew no fear".

His service as the Commander of the 14th Battalion of the 10th Baloch Regiment only solidified his stature. His refusal to join Pakistani forces, despite personal appeals from even Muhammad Ali Jinnah, remains a defining testament to his belief that patriotism transcends religion.

Born on July 15, 1912, in the Mau district of Azamgarh division in Uttar Pradesh, Usman’s legacy offers a contrast to the region often branded as an extremist hub with footprints of the terrorist outfit Indian Mujahideen, whose operatives hailing from Azamgarh were arrested for multiple conspiracies, including two who were gunned down in the 2008 Batla House encounter in the capital.

Usman’s life rebukes the sectarian taunts of “Babur ki aulad” or “Aurangzeb ki aulad". Usman’s admirers reminded such voices that they would be better off calling fellow citizens “Usman ki aulad” (Usman’s progeny). Ironically, Brigadier Usman had no children.

The book also exposes the cultural amnesia surrounding Usman’s legacy. Despite his unmatched heroics, no mainstream Hindi film has ever been made about him.

A Vinod Khanna project in the late 1980s titled 'Usman' collapsed after distributors balked at the absence of a heroine and romantic songs.

The authors rightly point out that post-1980s Bollywood rarely cast Muslim men as patriotic heroes, revealing how cinema’s shifting politics sidelined real-life icons.

Defying the colonial military system’s preference for aristocracy, in 1932, Usman earned his place at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst, through sheer merit. His story is neither a rags-to-riches arc nor one of deprivation: it is, at its very core, the chronicle of a soldier whose life was defined by discipline, merit, and sacrifice.

In today’s climate of polarisation, 'The Lion of Naushera' stands out as both a stirring military biography and a reminder that courage and loyalty for the nation are not bound by religion.

Name: The Lion of Naushera

Publisher: Bloomsbury

Price: 399

No. of pages: 148

shooting-straight-book-review-a-no-nonsense-portrait-of-a-soldier-par-excellence

Sat Jul 26 17:49:56 IST 2025

There are some gentlemen officers who help erect the edifice of expected military conduct in the annals of a country’s military history.

These are the fighting men who shape the character of a nation’s military, setting the gold standards of soldierly behavior, both at the personal and the organisational level, with shining examples.

The life and times of such soldiers become all the more relevant because they have truly been there and done that—from the icy heights of Siachen, the Kashmir terror theatre, and the Sri Lankan civil war, to the insurgency-plagued swathes of Nagaland, Manipur and Tripura.

Military historian Air Vice Marshal (retd) Arjun Subramaniam’s well-researched biography ‘Shooting Straight’ is on one such soldier—Lieutenant General Rostum K. Nanavatty (commissioned on December 29, 1962, and retired on May 31, 2003).

“I was more concerned with what my ‘command’ thought of me than my superiors. I looked ‘down’, not ‘up’ for satisfaction,” Nanavatty told the author, describing one aspect of what ‘soldiering’ meant to him.

No wonder the General found widespread and easy acceptability among the Gorkhas he led. One of them would say this about him: “Humari jaan, unki jaan thi” (our life was his life), which is not an easy compliment from men known to be among the grittiest of fighters.

Yet, it was not just among his men that General Nanavatty commanded respect.

His proclivity for talking straight, leadership abilities, and strategic vision, shaped by his ground zero operational experience, all contributed to his becoming a much-respected soldier.

An interesting facet of the soldier’s personality has been his ability to foresee issues that occupy strategists now—like the importance of small-team special operations, or of an integrating brigade-size offensive formation equipped with a range of assets.

His numerous instances of plain speak, recorded officially, event at times such as the 1962 border conflict with the Chinese (“what is this, if not fumbling and disorder at the top, a complete lack of foresight and planning?”) would continue to define his professional character attracting a lot of admirers and the odd critic.

Written in a lucid and interesting style, ‘Shooting Straight’ is not only about the General, but also about operations, tactics and strategy in diverse domains and landscapes. Subramaniam also does not baulk away from recording instances where Nanavatty’s ideas and tactics have been criticised. It is also worth noting that the author's task could have been made easier by Gen Nanavatty’s well-recorded notes in his neat and crisp handwriting.

In short, the novel is a must-read for military history buffs, social scientists and soldiers in the field.

raj-khosla-the-authorized-biography-book-review-icon-overshadowed-by-his-film-music-gets-the-recognition-he-deserves

Tue Jul 22 12:41:48 IST 2025

When film historian Amborish Roychoudhury told his friends he was writing a book on Raj Khosla, few showed any sign of recognition. Yet later, when he posted a collage of songs from Khosla’s films, his inbox lit up with messages like:

“Wow! All these songs are from his films?”

“I didn’t know all of these were by one guy!”

“He needs to be celebrated.”

The songs in question are some of the most iconic in Hindi cinema—‘Jhumka Gira Re’, ‘Bindiya Chamkegi’, ‘Achha Ji Main Haari’, ‘Yeh Hai Bombay Meri Jaan’, and ‘Lag Jaa Gale’.

These songs continue to be celebrated to this day, so much so that when Lata Mangeshkar passed away in 2022, most tributes to her featured the song 'Lag Jaa Gale'.

Khosla's filmography also deserves to be celebrated—and that's precisely what Roychoudhury does in his latest, 'Raj Khosla: The Authorised Biography', which he has written with Khosla's daughters Anita Khosla and Uma Khosla Kapur.

"How on earth can the same director have made a 'C.I.D.' and a 'Do Raaste'? The same guy, without breaking a sweat, created 'Main Tulsi Tere Aangan Ki' and 'Dostana' within a span of two years," Roychoudhury writes in the book's intro.

"Such disparate kinds of films can only come from the stable of a director who is passionately in love with his work, and with cinema," he adds as he maps the journey of Khosla, who made everything from crime thrillers to family dramas and romances.

Writing about a figure who was active during the 1960s to 80s—about whom not much material is available and whose contemporaries have mostly died—is an impressive feat that Roychoudhury pulls that off remarkably well.

The book is well-researched, and he keeps the language simple, which makes it all the more engrossing to read. At the same time, he organically weaves in several figures and anecdotes, which add to the flavour of the narrative.

The parts where he describes Khosla's relationship with his mentor, Guru Dutt, are as interesting as his supposed tiff with Waheeda Rehman: both headstrong artists who locked horns on more than one occasion.

"'Nayi ladki ho, itni behes karti ho (You're new here, and you argue so much),'" Khosla once told Rehman.

Then there are parts on the maker's evolving filmography, which flow smoothly as the author writes about Khosla's leading man Dev Anand, his admiration for Hollywood classics, and his depiction of women (who were played by legendary actors from Madhubala and Rehman to Sadhana and Suchitra Sen, among others).

However, the parts that stand out—like Khosla's filmography—are the songs.

For example, on one such song, Roychoudhury writes: "This was a special song, composed by Burman Senior. Asha Bhosle reminisced, laughing: 'When I used those expressions while singing ‘Achha Ji Main Haari’ ... Dev Anand and the rest of the team were jumping with joy. We could see through the glass window of the recording room. They were jumping, going all crazy."

Similarly, the song 'Jhumka Gira Re' had a personal connect. This was because "one of the abiding legacies that Raj's grandmother left him was a love for folk songs", he writes, adding that "one of the songs that she hummed was an old tune that went 'Jumka gira re/Bareilley ke bazar mein'."

Khosla's songs have been iconic, and so have many of his films. However, what had been missing was the maker being recognised for them. Roychoudhury makes an excellent effort at that with 'Raj Khosla: The Authorised Biography'.

democracy-enchained-nation-disgraced-p-s-sreedharan-pillai-combines-historical-detail-with-personal-reflection-in-his-book-on-emergency

Wed Jul 09 17:38:17 IST 2025

In his 260th book, Democracy Enchained, Nation Disgraced, senior BJP leader and Goa Governor P.S. Sreedharan Pillai offers a detailed account of one of modern India's darkest political chapter - the Emergency, whose 50th anniversary is observed this year. Combining historical detail with personal reflection, the book revisits a period marked by suspension of civil liberties, and a nation under the authoritarian rule.

Pillai laments the debate around the Emergency had existed in the margins of mainstream narratives. “Tragically, the failures and excesses of the regime that pushed the country to the brink of dictatorship remain inadequately documented in our history books. It is a national tragedy that the horrors of the Emergency have been consigned to the margins of history,” the author writes.

He notes that despite its far-reaching consequences, there has been inadequate institutional or public engagement with this period. Drawing upon his experience with organisation vigil human rights, particularly in Kerala, he underscores the importance of preserving collective memory to protect democratic values.

The book details the fateful midnight of June 25, 1975, when then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi recommended the imposition of Emergency to President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed—an act later criticised for its lack of constitutional scrutiny. Citing former President Pranab Mukherjee’s memoirs, Pillai points out that the Emergency was declared without consulting the Cabinet, revealing the extent of centralised power under Gandhi’s leadership. The author contends that Indira Gandhi’s decision was influenced by “power-hungry sycophants the Soviet Union and the Communists.”

Pillai traces the socio-political landscape leading up to the Emergency, from the post-Bangladesh war euphoria to the rising tide of corruption, internal dissent, and student protests. According to him, the regime’s response included mass arrests under laws like MISA and the COFEPOSA Act. The figures are staggering: over 1.1 lakh people jailed and more than 26 lakh sterilised during the period—many of them under coercive state machinery. Fundamental rights were suspended, and censorship became institutionalised, particularly targeting the media and internal criticism within the ruling Congress Party.

The book highlights voices of resistance, such as Jayaprakash Narayan (JP), whose non-violent Lok Sangharsha Samiti movement posed a serious challenge to the government, and media figures like Ramnath Goenka who stood firm on press freedom. Equally, it recounts acts of silent protest by cultural icons like cartoonist Shankar, who closed his publication in symbolic dissent.

Pillai also foregrounds the role of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), both in resisting the Emergency and supporting JP’s movement, despite being banned and subjected to harsh repression. He stresses that the RSS adopted a policy of forgiveness post-Emergency, rather than retribution. At the same time he hits out at the Left leaders who sided with Indira Gandhi barring AK Gopalan who vehemently opposed the Emergency.

A significant portion of the book is devoted to the Shah Commission, which investigated excesses during the Emergency. While the Commission did present a damning indictment of the regime, Pillai points out how its findings were ignored or buried. He alleges that Indira Gandhi’s 1980 return to power led to the destruction of the report, a suppression he describes as a grave blow to democratic accountability. He commends the efforts of parliamentarian Era Sezhiyan, who later attempted to recover and publish parts of the report.

Pillai had also included the speeches and views of senior leaders to provide a wider perspective. Though the tone of the book is personal at times, maintains a factual and legalistic approach. It seeks to document rather than dramatise, presenting the Emergency not only as a political event but as a cautionary tale about the fragility of democratic institutions.

Democracy Enchained, Nation Disgraced

By P.S. Sreedharan Pillai

Published by Konark Publisher

Price Rs 595; pages 279

the-sattvic-way-book-review-where-aesthetic-ayurveda-meets-modern-hurdles

Tue Jul 08 16:40:16 IST 2025

Ayurveda has a strange reputation. Followers swear by it, while critics dismiss it. There seems to be no middle ground whatsoever.

So when I started reading ‘The Sattvic Way: Ayurvedic Wisdom for Holistic Living’ by sattvic food expert Anushruti R.K. (published by HarperCollins), I decided to take it with a generous pinch of salt.

What works:

In under 300 pages, Anushruti—who’s also a writer—introduces you to many complex and not-so-complex Ayurvedic principles: the Gunas, Doshas, Prakriti, et al. Not only that, there are interesting questionnaires to help people understand their elements, based on physique, weight, hair, skin texture, and other characteristics.

Taking it further, she introduces you to several (sattvic) food recipes: from the simple khichdi and dal, to a quinoa tabbouleh salad and the Kerala-style vegetable biryani.

The book also features striking food pictures—the ones that would surely remind you of the old-school cookbooks that would definitely feature on our mother’s and grandmother’s bookshelves.

A book’s layout can at times make or break it. Here, it enhances the readability 100 per cent.

Interesting fonts, tables, caricatures, and questionnaires all work in perfect tandem to enhance its readability. All in all, the book is visually very impressive.

The rough edges

Having said that, the book can often read dense, with numerous Ayurvedic principles making it difficult to keep up. While the book promotes a balanced approach to life, it appears to portray the gruelling requirements of modern life out of context. For example, the sattvic way promotes having freshly-prepared meals, which can be difficult for working professionals, who often have to do meal preparation the previous day to keep their nutrition in check.

In another section, Anushruti quotes the Bhagavad Gita while introducing sattvic, rajasic, and tamasic foods.

“Food cooked more than three hours before being eaten, which is tasteless, stale, putrid, decomposed, and unclean, is food liked by people in the mode of ignorance,” she says in a section titled 'Bhagavad Gita As It Is: Chapter 17 Text 10'.

This can read uncomfortable due to the context that food in India is deeply influenced by caste hierarchy, due to which tamasic foods—considered to be unclean food eaten by the ignorant—are often associated with food eaten by the Dalit: not because due to dietary preferences, but due to their social construct.

Worth the read?

Anushruti’s ‘The Sattvic Way: Ayurvedic Wisdom for Holistic Living’ can be an interesting, almost meditative read for those seeking to understand Ayurvedic principles. If one wanted to go old-school, the many recipes it features can make the book worth read.

Otherwise, there are plenty of health and wellness websites and Instagram pages that’ll do the trick without requiring you to spend money.

emerging-frontiers-technology-absorption-in-the-indian-army-book-review-changing-contours-from-market-to-battlefield

Sat Jun 28 18:59:10 IST 2025

The book ‘Emerging Frontiers: Technology Absorption in the Indian Army’ by Lt Colonel Akshat Upadhyay confronts a paradigm shift that has quietly revolutionised modern warfare. The book’s central premise is stark: the era when militaries drove technological innovation, giving the world GPS, the internet and microelectronics, technologies that have shaped the contours of the modern world as we understand it, has ended.

Today, the Indian Armed Forces face the complex challenge of absorbing and adapting technologies developed primarily for commercial markets.

The book methodically deconstructs what we mean by "emerging" and "disruptive" technologies, drawing from thinkers like Clayton Christensen, Carlota Perez and Balaji Srinivasan, to name a few, to establish theoretical foundations.

There is a distinction being drawn between the industrial warfare model, where platforms like tanks and aircraft performed specific and exclusive functions and today's capability-focused approach where hardware serves as a foundation for integrated networks of sensors, weapons and autonomous systems. For example, a drone is no longer simply an aircraft - it becomes a vessel for cameras, bombs, electronic warfare systems and cyber capabilities.

The author links absorption to innovation, arguing that merely induction of platforms or technologies does not lead to a sea change in the way militaries prosecute war.

The heart of the work lies in its comparative analysis of military innovation ecosystems. The American model, with institutions like the Army Futures Command, represents a massive bureaucratic apparatus attempting to channel commercial innovation into military applications. Israel's approach integrates military and civilian technology sectors so tightly that the boundaries blur. Ukraine's wartime innovation presents perhaps the most compelling case study, where groups like Aerorozvidka bypass traditional procurement entirely, rapidly adapting commercial drones and software for battlefield use.

Contemporary conflict observations reveal the book's most striking insights. In Armenia-Azerbaijan, Ukraine-Russia and Israel-Hamas conflicts, we witness how rapidly commercial technologies, from consumer drones to artificial intelligence systems can reshape tactical and at times, strategic dynamics. The traditional twenty-year cycle from military laboratory to battlefield deployment has collapsed into months or even weeks.

The author's proposed Adaptive Integrative Framework attempts to synthesise these observations into a coherent model for technology absorption, emphasising organisational ambidexterity i.e. the ability to maintain current operations while adapting to innovation. His analysis suggests that successful military technology absorption requires soldiers to become not merely users, but creators, designers and regulators of the technologies they deploy.

Name of the book: Emerging Frontiers: Technology Absorption in the Indian Army

Author: Lt Col Akshat Upadhyay

No of pages: 196

Publisher: Pentagon Press

crude-nation-how-oil-riches-ruined-venezuela-review-tracing-the-decline-of-a-resource-rich-nation

Wed Jun 18 15:35:01 IST 2025

This book narrates the tragic story of how the oil-rich Venezuela (whihc has the largest oil reserves in the world, even more than that of Saudi Arabia) has become a country of misery, poverty and instability because of mismanagement and the corrupt culture of the Venezuelans.

Critics blame President Chavez and his successor President Maduro for the Venezuelan crisis. But according to this book, the problems of Venezuela did not start with Chavez in 1998 but from 1914 when oil was discovered. Since then, the Venezuelans have been infected incurably by the Dutch disease and resource curse. Oil has spoiled both the rulers and the ruled. The politicians stole and misspent the petrodollars during the high oil prices and let the economy slide into crisis when the prices went down. The businessmen gave up productive industries and went into imports and quick ways of making fast buck. Farmers neglected agriculture and moved into cities to share the luxury life style spawned by the oil boom.

The country has so much of fertile land, mineral resources, hydroelectric potential, beautiful beaches and a pleasant climate. These resources are sufficient to be a prosperous nation, even without oil. But when the easy money from oil started coming, the Venezuelans abandoned all the other resources and started living exclusively on oil income.

The ordinary Venezuelans developed a wrong culture and mindset that they do not have to work hard since money was flowing out of the oil wells. They have become addicted to consumption and imported luxuries. They spend more than they earn without caring for saving or preparing for the cyclical lower oil price. During high oil prices, middle class Venezuelans used to go for shopping to Miami and freak out on purchase of luxury goods. At the same time, the government also went on a spending spree and borrowed money recklessly from international capital market. The corrupt politicians cleaned up the treasury and took them abroad in collusion with business people. When the oil prices went down, the governments struggled to pay foreign debt, cut down developmental and welfare budgets and imposed austerity. At these times, people rose in protests leading to change of governments through elections or coups.

Venezuela became a different country when it discovered oil in 1914. In just a decade, the country had undergone a rapid transformation from an obscure agricultural backwater somewhere in the Andes to the world’s largest oil exporter and the second-largest oil producer after the United States. The agricultural nation became a petrostate. In 1920s, oil revenue supplied two-thirds of the state’s income and made up more than 90 percent of the country’s exports.

By 1930, while the world struggled with the Great Depression, Venezuelans began to enjoy enormous riches. Venezuela became a key supplier of the oil that fueled the Allied effort during World War II. The flood of oil revenue caused their currency bolivar to appreciate against the dollar. The strong currency was a boon for Venezuelan consumers, who could suddenly afford to import what they used, wore, and ate every day. Caracas became expensive. A US diplomat earning 2000 dollars in Washington DC needed 5000 dollars to live in Caracas.

Venezuela’s days of economic plenty did not last. World War II disrupted global trade and pushed the import-dependent nation into economic disarray, plagued by product shortages. Venezuela quickly went from a nation with enough purchasing power to import fine wines to a place where people struggled to find car tires.

Venezuela had increased its oil revenue thanks to a smart Venezuelan, Pérez Alfonzo, the Minister of Development appointed by the military rulers after the 1945 coup. He changed the game of negotiations with the foreign oil companies. He pushed them for fifty-fifty share in the profits the multinational oil companies derived from the sale of crude oil as well as refining, transportation, and sale of fuel. He educated the sheikhs in the Middle East and helped them to get a similar arrangement with the foreign oil firms and also create their own national oil companies. When in 1960 oil companies decided to steeply reduce the prices paid for crude, Pérez Alfonzo flew to Baghdad, where he met representatives from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Iraq, and Iran and signed the agreement to create the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries, OPEC. From that point on, oil companies would have to consult with exporter countries before setting oil prices.

In the period 1950-57 Venezuela accumulated huge foreign exchange reserves, caused by the hike in oil prices after the coup in Iran and closure of Suez Canal. In 1963, the country churned out 3.5 million barrels of oil a day. The country’s per capita income was the highest in Latin America, and the bolivar remained one of the world’s strongest currencies. Sears Roebuck had opened eleven stores in Venezuela.

After the Arab oil embargo in 1973, Venezuela’s petrodollars tripled. The flow of dollars from oil was too much for Venezuela’s economy causing a form of economic indigestion. The newly elected president Carlos Andrés Pérez asked Congress for special powers to issue laws by decree to better handle the avalanche of money. Venezuela was in a state of emergency because it had too much cash.

Venezuelans wasted no time in developing a taste for the finer things in life. The country became known for having the best French and Italian restaurants in Latin America, many of them run by famed chefs. Venezuela became one of the largest importers of premium alcohol, like whiskey and champagne, as well as luxury vehicles, like the Cadillac El Dorado. Caracas became such a chic destination that Air France’s Concorde supersonic jet opened a Paris–Caracas flight in 1976. The per capita income of Venezuelans rivaled that of West Germany.

But in the 1980s, Venezuela faced a crisis after the fall in prices due to a global oil glut and lower demand. Since Venezuelans had grown accustomed to generous governments, politicians continued to spend even in the face of less money coming in. The country’s economy in 1989 went into its worst recession ever, with gross domestic product contracting nearly 9 per cent. Venezuela was forced to seek a financial lifeline from the International Monetary Fund and asked the U.S. government’s help to renegotiate and reduce its outstanding debts. People took to the streets by the thousands to protest, riot, and loot for ten days. Protesters set fire to cars and buses, and they clashed with the military. When it was all over, the uprising that became known as El Caracazo had left three hundred people dead and material losses in the millions of dollars. During the eight years ending in 1989, poverty had increased tenfold. Inflation topped 100 per cent in 1996. When Chávez was first sworn in as president in 1999, roughly 44 per cent of Venezuelan households lived in poverty.

The author has concluded that the Venezuelans have learnt nothing in the last 100 plus years of oil history. The Venezuelan politics has remained as a roulette of dictators, populists, coups, booms and busts. Since its independence in 1811, the country has had twenty-three different constitutions.

The author of the book Raul Gallegos was the foreign oil correspondent for Dow Jones and the Wall street Journal based in Caracas.

I agree with the author's analysis, based on my first hand experience as India's ambassador in Venezuela during 2000-3.

This book has covered the developments till 2016, when it was published. In the last ten years, the country has worsened with more political instability and economic crisis. The Americans have driven Venezuela to the wall with draconic economic sanctions and announcement of bounties on the heads of the members of the Venezuelan government. The sanctions have crippled the oil production and exports, besides trade, industry and investment. The US has announced a bounty of over 70 million dollars on dozens of Venezuelan government leaders including President Maduro (25 million dollars), Interior Minister Cabello (15 million dollars), Defense Minister Pedrinho (15 million), chiefs of armed forces, police, intelligence agencies and the national oil company PDVSA, as well as judges of Supreme Court and election authorities. The US prosecutors have filed criminal cases in US courts accusing them of all kinds of charges such as drug trafficking, money laundering, possession of arms and human rights violations. This means that the entire ruling regime of Venezuela will be extradited and jailed for life in US, if they are out of power. The Chavista government knows that they will certainly lose in any free and fair election. So why would hundreds of the members of the ruling regime will commit collective suicide by holding elections and letting the pro-American opposition to come to power. The American position on Venezuela has become harsher with President Trump and the Cuban-American Secretary of State Marco Rubio. So the Venezuelans are condemned to more misery in the next four years. Clearly, the US has become the biggest obstacle for restoration of Venezuelan democracy.

Venezuela’s misery has affected India too. Venezuela was the main source of crude oil for India in the Latin American region. Before the US sanctions, India used to import over 10 billion dollars of oil from Venezuela at competitive prices. The Venezuelan government, which was earlier exporting over 80% of its oil to US, was keen to reduce its over dependence. They offered attractive prices and terms to India seeing it as large and growing long term market. But now the Americans have replaced Venezuelans as a large supplier of crude oil to India. In 2014-15, they exported crude worth 14.3 billion dollars. So, the American sanctions are just a political masquerade to shut Venezuelan supply and capture the oil market for American oil producing companies. Venezuela, the crude nation has been trumped by US, the cruder nation.

The author is an expert in Latin American affairs

once-upon-a-summer-review-a-simple-colonial-era-love-story-with-many-layers

Sun Jun 15 10:20:02 IST 2025

It's colonial India. A lively young English girl, recently having arrived from Britain, falls in love with a simpleton Indian boy. This is a storyline not uncommon but one we've come across both in books and on screen. 'Once Upon A Summer', an upcoming book by author Manjul Bajaj, and published by HarperCollins, follows the same plotline, but offers something more.

It’s 1906, Nainital – the summer capital of the erstwhile United Provinces. Madeline, a lively young English girl and Azeem, her handsome horse groom, fall deeply in love. Divided by race and class, they face the world with fearlessness and resolve. 'What finally happens to them?' is a question that keeps you hooked till the end.

While a simple story, what stands out is the treatment – the different timelines, geographies, and storylines Bajaj has incorporated in a mere 351 pages. As much as the protagonists, she accords ample treatment to other characters, too, the prime example being Mariam, an ayah, or nanny to Madeline's family in Jaunpur, where her father works in the Public Works Department. Born into a lower-caste Hindu family, she converts to Christianity, and hence, Meera becomes Mariam.

Mariam is an interesting character, as she not only represents the little-understood and much-misunderstood relationship between casteism and conversion, but reflects how women of this country have been working for centuries, if not millennia, largely driven by casteism and classism. "Gown-clad, convent-educated, fluent in English, on her way to a new job, she wished to hold her own," Bajaj writes about Mariam.

What stands out the most in 'Once Upon A Summer' is the relationship between Indians and the British colonialists, which is much deeper and intertwined than is understood. What also stands out is how Bajaj effortlessly moves through timelines and geographies – you're in 1959 New York in one chapter and in 1895 Rannpur in the next – nowhere is the shift reading forceful or difficult to fully grasp.

A deeply engrossing and comfortable read, however, it becomes a bit bumpy in the portrayal of Madeline, whose character often reads like a caricature. For example, when her father sends her first-class tickets to travel from Britain to India, this is how she reacts: "Thank you, Papa. Thank you, life. Beautiful world, lay out your charms. Bring forward your sights and sounds. Mandeline Evans is headed your way." It's also difficult to understand her motivations and emotions apart from her deep fascination for everything around her.

Having said that, 'Once Upon A Summer' is an interesting read, one that will transport you into different worlds simultaneously, but through the same characters. This is where the strength of the book lies.

Once Upon a Summer

Author: Manjul Bajaj

Publisher: HarperCollins India

Pages: 351

Price: ₹499

murder-under-the-dreaming-spires-travelogue-tangoes-with-mystery-in-this-destination-thriller

Mon Jun 02 20:51:47 IST 2025

Shashi Tharoor heaped praise on Manjiri Prabhu for ‘exoticising the Orient through intrepid storytelling’. He went on to hail her as one of the first woman exponents of the murder mystery.

For most people, that would be encomiums enough. However, Ms Prabhu went a step further and crafted a genre-defying ‘destination thriller’. This is a type of book that gives you all the information normally found in a travelogue, but spices up the boring parts with murders.

Her latest ‘destination’ is the fabled University of Oxford. So craftily is the plot woven that you begin to believe even the location has had a hand in the crime, and Oxford should consider itself lucky it didn’t get arrested as an accessory after the fact.

ALSO READ | Through My Eyes: Top cop offers a glimpse into the challenges of men in khaki

‘The Grand Oxford Mystery’ is about two elderly Oxonians bound together in a college romance that didn’t get anywhere. Just when the embers seem to be rekindled under strenuous fanning, a venerable university professor ruins the lovey-dovey atmosphere by getting murdered.

Like all good dead people in mystery books, the professor has left behind a clutch of posthumous clues strewn across the campus, so as to give readers a conducted tour of the halls, the terraces and libraries of the centuries-old university. The clues are given in instalments so that the tension is held taut for all 300-odd pages of the book.

There’s also a ticking stopwatch—all the clues have to be discovered and justice delivered before an impending deadline, or else a disaster will befall them. We do not know what kind of disaster it is, but with President Trump not around, it could be much worse than being starved of funds. Other dangers await too: there’s a whiff of the 'Cambridge Five’—five students in the 1930s that turned out to be the most intellectual Russian spies ever.

ALSO READ | Chile, magic & memory: Isabel Allende returns with another finely crafted novel

Manjiri Prabhu has written 22 books, earning for herself the moniker ‘Agatha Christie of Indian fiction’. Unlike seamy murder mysteries, the pages are not littered with blood and gore. Ms Prabhu is elegant (almost antiseptic) when it comes to describing a murder—‘an excruciating blow to the head’ is as far as she is prepared to go.

It makes it seem as if she is narrating an amusing parlour game played to relieve the tedium of a Sunday afternoon. Yet, she sustains the pace with a series of carefully orchestrated events. Her forte is the kind of vivid description that makes you feel you are right on location, and you can’t ask for a more suitable venue than Oxford, with its ‘ochre stone walls, multiple turrets and soaring arches’.

Most people would kill to be able to get to Oxford. You don’t need to go that far. Just solve a murder or two with help from Manjiri Prabhu.

The Grand Oxford Mystery

Author: Manjiri Prabhu

Publisher: Comm Dot Media

Pages: 316

Price: ₹450

through-my-eyes-top-cop-offers-a-glimpse-into-the-challenges-of-men-in-khaki

Sat May 31 16:48:51 IST 2025

Through My Eyes, written by Om Prakash Singh, the former DGP of Uttar Pradesh, is a collection of stories or rather first-hand accounts of his experiences handling chaos for the right cause to bring outcomes that can set up a maxim for how policing should be done in the country.

Published by Prabhat Prakashan, it offers a glimpse into the challenges of men in khaki who are not always baton-wielding cops but can display empathy while discharging their duties.

The top-cop writes about his account mostly involving vulnerable sections of society where he acts beyond the limitations of time and irrespective of space or jurisdiction to steer his way to just outcomes.

While stationed in Lucknow, Singh addresses numerous challenges faced by the local population. In his memoir, he highlights the injustices endured by those who lack authority over their own legal matters. Moreover, the book significantly discusses issues like honour killings, caste discrimination, militancy, and much more.

In the first chapter, Honour Killing, Singh's feelings seem chaotic about his decision to return a below-18 girl to her father while separating her from her adult lover. As the things unfold, he sounds passively resenting about his legitimate decision to rescue the girl. As she later disappears from the scenes, Singh later gets to know how the same father had chillingly murdered his daughter.

Although he provides a tad different view about his approach as a police officer, his writing reflects his pain for people in distress and an inclination to care of micro incidents when it has been in his capacity.

What makes the book engaging is the raw situations and description of these situations from the person (author) who almost all the time sits in a position of authority and capable of influencing the outcome of these situations up to the end. As good policing is rare in the underdeveloped or developing countries and most of the time people expect minimum from the law enforcement agencies, Singh overrides such a perception by recalling his policing activities.

Singh's book though does not have any investigative nature where things would take exceptional turns with each progress, it keeps you hooked to the smaller and possibly more important aspects of policing. Least to say that Singh has tried to be sincere with his language and tried to explain his stories at stretch. This makes the narration high on graphics and interesting.

The men in khaki would benefit from the book as it harps less about the top cop's authoritative hands on the levers of power and more about the use of power for the public good. For the common reader, it can be a breath of fresh air reinforcing how the good will of a cop can impact several lives. However, for others who believe the Indian policemen are baffle-headed bosses trying to enforce their superiority among powerless people – it is a chance to get a sneak peek into what goes on with a cop functioning under legal limitations while establishing rule of law. By this, they can understand that there are few empathy driven officers who really care for people.

Through My Eyes

Author: OP Singh

Publisher: Prabhat Prakashan

Pages: 216

Price: ₹600

chile-magic-memory-isabel-allende-returns-with-another-finely-crafted-novel

Fri May 30 12:20:49 IST 2025

'My name is Emilia del Valle' is the latest novel by Isabel Allende, the 83-year old Chilean-American writer.

Allende became famous after her first novel 'The House of Spirits' published in 1982. Since then, she has written over twenty novels. I have enjoyed reading most of them as well as her autobiographies. Her novels are based on her personal experience of exile, dictatorships, ideological conflicts, civil wars and other such familiar Latin American themes. She has used the signature Latin American genre of Magical Realism in some of her novels.

Emilia del Valle, the protagonist in the novel, is a strong-willed, independent and adventurous woman. She is the daughter of Molly Walsh, a nun in San Francisco who was seduced and made pregnant by Gonzalo Andres del Valle, a wealthy Chilean playboy while on a trip to the US city. After being thrown out of the monastery, she gives birth to a daughter whom she names as Emilia del Valle. When the biological father refuses to marry or accept paternity, Molly marries a Mexican school teacher in San Francisco. Emilia becomes a writer of dime novels and later a journalist. She persuades her newspaper to send her to cover the Chilean civil war of 1891. In Santiago, she meets her father who has given up his adventurous life and taken to religion seriously praying, repenting for his past sins and making confessions to a priest every day. After making a will accepting Emilia as his daughter, he dies in her arms. She inherits a piece of land in a Mapuche forest area in southern Chile. She travels to the forest and discovers the natural beauty of Chile and the culture of the indigenous Mapuche tribe.

Here are some of her descriptions of Chile and Chileans:

-They say that from every corner of Chile one can feel the majestic presence of the Andes Mountains and their telluric energy that defines the proud, serious, and stoic nature of the Chilean people.

-The soul of Chile lies on the sea, the Pacific Ocean, which spans its entire length from the northern border down to the Patagonia.

- The spirit of Chile is defined by water ...from the sea, blue lakes, raging rivers, waterfalls, springs, persistent rains, snow, and tears...water everywhere, save for that tremendous desert of nitrate.

-He had a lyrical manner of expressing himself that did not seem out of place in that country full of poets. This was something difficult to reconcile, since the same Chileans who so loved the beauty of poetry were also quite bloody-minded.

The author goes poetic in describing the forests in southern Chile as a 'vast expanse of millenary trees, the coigue, canelo, araucaria, hazelnut, and cypresses of the Andes Mountains. Green—a hundred shades of it—and, sometimes, from on high, the blaze of a red copihue, the national flower of Chile. Birds of all varieties, choruses of boisterous song and suddenly the silent flight of an Andean condor. The forest filled with the sound of the trilling of birds, the murmur of foliage, the babbling of brooks and springs. The pure, crisp air like crystal that seeps into every corner of the body and soul, rinsing clean the secret pathways of the veins and thoughts.

Allende calls Chile as an invented country because she had lived most of her life outside. She titled her first autobiography as ¨My invented country¨. Chile has been living in her imagination strongly with nostalgia and melancholy. She looks back at her country more emotionally and intensely to compensate for her forced separation. It became even more acute since Isabel started writing novels only after her exile to Venezuela during the Pinochet military dictatorship. President Allende, overthrown in a coup and killed by the military, was a cousin of her father.

Allende has brought out how the Chilean oligarchy controls and manipulates its political and economic power using the military to protect and promote their interests at the expense of the poor people. General Pinochet, during his long military dictatorship from 1974 to 1990, has legitimized and promoted the oligarchy’s power and privileges through neoliberal policies and constitution. This is the reason why there has been a historically strong and ongoing leftist movement in the country seeking economic and social justice through protests and resistance and calls for change of the constitution.

Of course, Allende brings out the Latino spirit in the novel with Emilia’s character, romance, love and adventures, similar to her own personal experience.

Allende is lively even in old age. In one of her interviews, she says,”I have been in love all my life, with different men, of course. Love is beautiful and melodramatic. I am in my seventies and I want love, passion and romance, like any teenager, but match.com is not for me. No one online would ever be interested in a short, bossy Latina grand mother. Now, if I get to meet a guy I like in person, well that’s different. I grab him by the neck, or whatever part of him is closest to me, and he doesn’t stand a chance. We humans are sexual and sentimental creatures to the very end of our lives, a fact that makes my grandchildren cringe."

Allende is proud of her ‘being able to catch a man (Roger Cukras) as the third husband in 2019 when she was 77. Even now at her advanced age of eighty three years, she lives a free-spirited California life with a full-blooded Latino passion. She says, "all the fundamental things in my life happen in Spanish, like scolding my grandchildren, cooking, making love and writing”. Interestingly, her first husband Willie has built a new house on a hill in San Francisco in the Chilean style and named it as ¨House of Spirits¨, the same name as her first novel which made her popular.

While her spirit is wild, Allende is rigorously disciplined in her writing work. She works ten hours a day and six days a week. She says, “I get up every morning around six. First I have a cup of coffee, then a shower and then I put on full makeup as if I was going out to the opera. I get dressed and put on high heels, and then I climb the stairs to the attic where I work. I won’t see anyone, not even the mailman, yet I dress up for myself.” She starts work on a new book every year on 8 January.

The 83-year old Isabel Allende does not let the old age to cloud her Latino heart and creative mind. She believes in the Latino saying, " Don't stop having fun when you are old. You become old only when you stop having fun. She is already into her next project which is going to be another memoir, although she says, "I like to write fiction because I'm a very good liar"

The author is an expert in Latin American affairs

seoulmates-this-new-book-describes-an-indian-couples-adventures-in-korea

Sat May 17 13:46:33 IST 2025

Vasudev Tumbe and Sudha Hazurbazar Tumbe travelled to South Korea in 2013 when Vasudev got offered a position as the CFO of SsangYong Motor Company and ended up spending almost six years there. Seoulmates encapsulates their experiences in Korea, taking a look at the country through Indian eyes. They were not in the first flush of youth when they went there; Sudha, for example, was 50. But the way they immersed themselves into Korean culture and life is admirable, lending depth and insight to the book.

In the prologue, Vasudev adds a caveat: they had an enjoyable and memorable experience in Korea, but the same might not be true of everyone. They lived a comfortable life with an English-speaking driver and an interpreter in office for Vasudev. Sudha learnt the language and went from being an outsider to someone with intimate knowledge of Korean cuisine, culture and life through her interactions with numerous Koreans and expats in the country. She obviously has a talent to make friends and an affinity towards trying out new experiences. “The experiences may have been different if we were strict vegetarians or students, or were just starting our careers,” writes Vasudev.

The book describes the country’s history, economics, culture and lifestyle, with Vasudev writing about the former two and Sudha, about the latter two. Personally, I found the part about the economics and work culture of Korea more interesting, perhaps because I was already somewhat familiar with the widespread popularity of the K-wave and Hallyu, even amongst youngsters in India, being an occasional watcher of K-dramas (Sudha did describe some interesting ones which I felt I must check out.)

When it comes to business and economics, Korea is highly advanced on the macro level, transforming into a developed country within two generations, from a per capita income of less than $300 in 1970 to $35,000 in nominal terms in 2023. Vasudev also describes the country’s top-notch infrastructure, public transport system and urban design. On the micro level, however, the picture is more murky; for example, when it comes to their work culture. Ingrained qualities like discipline, punctuality and respect for elders are off-set by others like a superiority complex vis-a-vis people from non-western countries. There is a constant comparison and wish to emulate others, writes Vasudev, having heard the words ‘I envy you’ innumerable times. “There is no malice in this remark, but it comes so spontaneously to Koreans as compared to Indians, who wouldn’t say so as freely,” writes Vasudev. Koreans are big spenders (splurging on skincare products, cosmetics, expensive purses and dining-out experiences) and bad savers. They dread retirement as they feel they have not saved enough and might have to work even afterwards.

The culture difference between India and Korea led to many interesting experiences for Vasudev. One of the first questions he was asked after arriving in his Korean office, for example, was, “How big is your house?”, which took him aback. Many of his Korean colleagues would laugh and joke in Korean in his presence, making him feel lost and left out. They would not explain the joke even when he asked them to, which would be considered bad manners in India, he says.

The rest of the book is about Sudha’s experiences learning the language, making friends and immersing herself in Korean life. From studying painting, handicraft, calligraphy and cooking to being appointed a Gangnam publicity ambassador (her job being to wander around Korea and write about her experiences to boost tourism in the country) to volunteering at the Korea Dyslexia Association, Sudha seems to have lived life to the full.

The pictures in the book, featuring the Vasudevs’ family and wide circle of friends, testify to how much the country became a part of them and they, a part of it, which makes them uniquely qualified to write this book. This is travel writing of a high order with six years of experiences, observations and insights compressed into 230 pages. Overall, it is an enjoyable story for anyone interested in knowing how a country achieves its national character and flavour, told in an engaging and simple style.

Seoulmates: Korea through Indian Eyes

By Vasudev and Sudha Huzurbazar Tumbe

Published by Juggernaut

Price Rs599; pages 230

weaving-a-shared-legacy-textiles-from-bengal-unravels-the-rich-history-of-the-two-bengals

Sun May 11 16:22:42 IST 2025

“It's all about carrying your identity with pride, right?” actor-singer Diljit Dosanjh told The New York Times as he made his Met Gala debut with a bang. Every detail of his ensemble—from the ivory-gold sherwani and jewel-studded, feathered turban to the lion-headed kirpan (sword)—oozed regality as well as his Punjabi heritage, eliciting awe at both home and abroad.

Dosanjh's 'carrying your identity' moment powerfully highlighted the power of garments, which go beyond utility, carrying stories, history, and culture within its folds.

This is starkly evident in 'Textiles from Bengal: A Shared Legacy', an extensive and strikingly beautiful book that documents the rich textile history of the two Bengals from the 16th to the 20th century. The book is co-edited by Tirthankar Roy, Sonia Ashmore, and Niaz Zaman, and published by Mapin Publishing.

First things first: 'Don't judge a book by its cover,' they say, but it proves to be the opposite in the case of 'Textiles from Bengal: A Shared Legacy'. In fact, the coffee table book carries a rich repository of stunning pictures that guide you as the essays by 34 experts inform you. It's not an easy book and can be overwhelming at times, but the premise, accompanied by the pictures, keeps you hooked.

ALSO READ | Winds of Change: A Reflective Look at Rami Chhabra’s 'Becoming the Storm'

Along with the carefully selected pictures, what's commendable about the book is its expanse, which goes much beyond the 'jamdani' and 'kantha' of Bengal. It focuses on Bengal's famed cotton and silk, but also jute and indigo, and how climate, political developments and colonialism impacted the region's textile heritage. While Bengal's muslin became a hit in the West, textiles also became central during the Swadeshi movement, which the book explores deeply.

While the book touches upon themes that might be better known in public, it also acquaints readers with some unknown or little-known aspects. For example, Bengal has had a rich tradition of 'suchichitra', or embroidered paintings.

While India has had an oral history, it has lacked the tradition of written history for the most part, which holds in the case of Bengal's textiles as well. While the book makes a mark in undoing that, it contains a section on songs by women on Bengal's textile traditions.

"The neighbours came to my house to ask me to weave a sari

Standing on the door, Rani calls out to me and says-

O weaver, make me a beautiful bridal scarf," reads a song.

While Bengal's textiles have endured several changes, from rivers changing course to industrialisation, a major blow was dealt by the Partition of India in general, and Bengal in particular.

ALSO READ | ‘Fifty Year Road’ review: A personal history of India penned by a politically conscious Indian

It makes this book all the more important as it makes you see culture in the continuum, which cannot be withheld within borders, and no singular event can undo it, and whether you are a fashion enthusiast or a history buff, 'Textiles from Bengal: A Shared Legacy' is as interesting as it is important.

Textiles from Bengal: A Shared Legacy

Co-editors: Tirthankar Roy, Sonia Ashmore, Niaz Zaman

Publisher: Mapin Publishing

Pages: 360

Price: ₹4,950