“What's your price?” It is an uncomfortable question because we are used to putting prices on almost everything. A house has a price. A car has a price. A company has a valuation. Even our time is increasingly measured in money. But what happens when the question is directed at a human being? That discomfort is precisely where Dr. Manjit Hans begins in What's Your Price? Understanding Your Worth. The title initially sounds transactional, almost provocative. Yet the book

What if having it all is not about getting everything? What does it actually mean to have it all? More money? A successful career? A happy family? Good health? Inner peace? Meaningful relationships? Freedom from regret? We tend to imagine these things as items on a checklist. The more boxes we tick, the closer we are to a great life. Gaur Gopal Das’s You Can Have It All made me question that definition. Perhaps the difficult part is not getting more out of life. Per

What happens when a place stops producing gold but refuses to stop carrying its history? That question stayed with me while reading Rabi Samuel’s Cold Mine. Set against the history of Kolar Gold Fields, the novel takes us into abandoned mine shafts, forgotten records, unfinished maps and old legends. But beneath the thriller machinery, Samuel is interested in something larger: what happens to people when the place that gave meaning to their lives also takes something from

Why do intelligent people make simple problems complicated? Sometimes because the problem really is complicated. But sometimes because complexity makes us feel that we are doing serious thinking. That distinction stayed with me while reading Mukesh Sud's Simple Thinking. The book begins with an idea that sounds almost obvious: when we are surrounded by information, opinions and noise, finding a simple way forward can be more useful than adding another layer of complexit

A crown is supposed to be a symbol of power. But what if it is actually a debt? That was the thought I kept returning to while reading Rajesh Mehta’s Bleeding Crown: Protector of Sivi. Set in 726 BC, long before the familiar chapters of Indian history that most of us encounter in school, the novel takes us into the kingdom of Sivi, where a young prince is expected to inherit not merely a throne, but everything that comes with it—promises made by those before him, politi

There is a strange contradiction in the way we look at doctors. When a doctor saves a life, we call it a miracle. When treatment fails, we sometimes call it negligence. Somewhere between those two extremes, we forget something rather obvious. The person standing in the white coat is a human being. Doctors Are Not Murderers by Dr. Debraj Shome and Dr. Aarti Heda comes from that uncomfortable space between medical responsibility and public judgment. It is a collection

There is a particular kind of guilt that doesn't arrive with an accusation. It arrives disguised as concern. “Are you eating too much?” “You should lose some weight.” “You're getting too ambitious.” “Don't you think you should spend more time with the family?” “Why are you so sensitive?” And because the person saying it is often an aunt, a parent, a colleague, a friend—or simply someone who believes they are entitled to an opinion—we are expected to accept it as

There is something almost irresistible about a young person who refuses to give up on a dream everyone else considers unrealistic. Especially when that dream involves Bollywood. Because Bollywood has spent decades teaching us to believe that somewhere between struggle and success, there will be a turning point. A phone call. An audition. A lucky break. A stranger who notices us. A game show with a life-changing prize. And perhaps that is why Bejoy Chowdhury—Joy—feels so

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 are some questions that are asked because we don't know the answer. And then there are questions we ask because we are afraid of what the answer might mean. Am I a Dalit? belongs to the second category. Vijhay Sundar K.G.'s novel begins in a world where caste is not an abstract idea discussed in textbooks. It is present in families, relationships, social behaviour, humiliation and the choices people are allowed to make. But what makes the novel interesting is that

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 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

When a Border Separates Two People, What Exactly Does It Fail to Separate? Some love stories are about two people trying to find each other. Dear Zahira, With Love by Sachin NG is about something more difficult: two people trying to remain connected when history has decided they belong on opposite sides of a border. That distinction stayed with me. Because we often talk about Partition through numbers—millions displaced, families separated, lives destroyed, borders re

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 are people who look lonely. And then there are people who have become so good at living alone that nobody thinks to ask if they are lonely. Meera is one of them. At fifty, she has a job. A routine. A home. A life that, from the outside, seems perfectly manageable. She wakes up. Goes to work. Comes back. Follows her routines. Nothing is falling apart. Except perhaps Meera herself. That is where Sindhura Chamala’s Parts of Living quietly gets under your skin

Sometimes the hardest goodbye is not the one we say to another person. It is the goodbye we keep postponing inside ourselves. That is where I Cannot Say Goodbye to You finds its emotional strength. At first glance, the title can make you expect a familiar romance—love, separation, heartbreak, and the difficult business of moving on. But Rithvik Singh’s first romance novel reaches somewhere more uncomfortable. It asks what happens when a person grows up believing that the

Every generation believes its struggles are unique. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren't. Anxiety has a different name today. Overthinking has become a personality trait. Career pressure begins before adulthood. Social media has turned comparison into a daily habit. We carry entire conversations inside our heads long after they have ended. That is exactly where The Gita for Gen Z by Rania Sen begins. Not on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. But on the battlefield insid

Ghost stories have survived every generation despite living in an age that insists on logic. We have better science, better technology, and endless explanations for things our ancestors could only fear. Yet we continue to read stories about haunted houses, restless spirits, and unexplained encounters. Perhaps that is because ghost stories have never really been about ghosts. They are about the emotions that refuse to die. Enakshi Sengupta's Only He Could See Them understands