There are conversations we avoid because we don't know what to say. And then there are conversations we avoid because we know exactly what we want to say. The second kind is often harder. We rehearse the words in our heads. We imagine how the other person might react. We worry about sounding rude, confrontational, insensitive, or simply being misunderstood. So we wait. Tomorrow becomes next week. Next week becomes never. And sometimes silence costs us more than an

I have always found something slightly unsettling about telephone calls. Maybe it is because you cannot see the person on the other end. You hear a voice, but you don't know what the face behind it looks like. You cannot tell whether someone is speaking calmly because they are genuinely calm, or because they are trying very hard not to fall apart. Sometimes there is a pause. Sometimes there is silence. And sometimes, you realise that the person on the other end may

I have a confession. I like books that make me stop reading. Not because they are boring. Quite the opposite. Because sometimes I am reading a page and suddenly I have to look up and say, “Wait. What?” That happened quite a few times with What the What?! And, honestly, that is probably the best possible reaction to this book. I came to it expecting a book of strange facts, trivia and questions. I got that. But somewhere between one bizarre fact and another

There is a strange problem with legends. We meet them too late. By the time we hear their names, the transformation has already happened. The doubts have disappeared. The mistakes have been edited out. The person has become a symbol. Parashurama is one of those figures. We know the axe.We know the anger.We know the warrior. But who was Rama before he became Parashurama? That is where Kevin Missal's Parashurama: The Axe of Rudra caught my attention. The book begi

There is something deeply comforting about certainty. We like knowing why things happen. We like clear answers, predictable outcomes and explanations that neatly close the conversation. We live in a time that makes this even easier. Algorithms predict what we might want next. Search engines find answers in seconds. Experts speak with enormous confidence. Even social media has turned complicated questions into simple opinions. And then comes a book with the rather mischiev

Some love stories end. Some simply learn to exist differently. That is what stayed with me after reading Ashritta Saran’s Parallel Heartbeats. Ash and Aaryan find each other when they are young enough to believe that loving someone deeply should be enough. But growing up has a way of complicating even the purest emotions. Ambition enters. Distance enters. Circumstances enter. And eventually, two people who once felt like each other’s entire world have to discover who they

We know how the story ends. That is perhaps the biggest problem with reading about someone like Lionel Messi. We already know the boy from Rosario becomes one of the greatest footballers the world has ever seen. We know about Barcelona. We know the goals, the trophies, the records. We know the heartbreak with Argentina. We know the World Cup finally arrives. We know Paris, and then Miami. We know the images. We know the ending. And when we know the ending, we tend to

We often imagine that the most dangerous secrets in a relationship are the ones someone tells us. Perhaps they aren't. Perhaps the more dangerous ones are the secrets someone successfully keeps from us. That thought stayed with me while reading Anubha Gupta's The Almost Perfect Wife. Because beneath the murder mystery, the twists and the ancestral house in Mashobra, this is really a story about something much more uncomfortable: how little we may actually know about the

What would you be willing to give up if you genuinely believed that the one thing you were searching for could not be found in the life you were already living? That question stayed with me while reading If Truth Be Told: A Monk’s Memoir by Om Swami. Because the extraordinary thing about this memoir is not simply that a successful businessman became a monk. It is that the person who had seemingly acquired everything the world teaches us to desire eventually discovered t

We have spent years asking whether artificial intelligence will destroy humanity. Akshay Chopra's After Us asks a more unsettling question: What if it doesn't? What if the intelligence we create is benevolent? What if it solves problems we couldn't? What if it understands us better than we understand ourselves? What if it doesn't need to hate humanity to make humanity irrelevant? That possibility stayed with me long after I finished the book. After Us begins with id

There’s a strange kind of silence that follows a good martial arts fight — that heartbeat of stillness between power and peace. Reading...