It starts like a film with the sound turned low — a ceiling fan humming, rain smudging a window, someone breathing too carefully in the dark. That’s how Solitude opens — not with a scream, but with the kind of silence that makes your skin remember things you’ve tried to forget.   I didn’t pick this book to be scared. I picked it because the title felt eerily familiar. Solitude. That tender, terrifying word. The one that sometimes heals, sometimes destroys. And Shubham Jain, i

There are books that entertain you, and then there are books that quietly sit beside you — like an old friend, gently reminding you who you really are. Bonds by Tirtho Banerjee belongs to the latter. It doesn’t shout for attention. It lingers. It breathes. It listens. And somewhere between its ten short stories, it holds up a mirror — not to the extraordinary, but to the heartbreakingly ordinary moments that make us human.   I first picked up Bonds expecting to read about peo

The first time I picked up Tales from the Absurd, I half-expected a neat little box of stories where everything had its place, logic...

There are books that whisper to you, books that sing, and then there are books that lurk in the corner of your room like a shadow you...

Ever stared at the ceiling late at night, wondering if your refrigerator has a secret life or if your cat is silently judging your every...

Have you ever come across a book that makes you pause, take a deep breath, and truly feel? The Anatomy of Affection by Sutapa Basu is one...