The first thing Brahma-Patra made me do was slow down. Not metaphorically. Physically. I remember reading the opening pages late at night, phone dimmed, the room quiet except for a ceiling fan slicing the air, when I realised my thumb had stopped its impatient scroll. This wasn’t a book that wanted to be consumed. It wanted to be sat with. Like a letter you don’t open in one go, because you know once you do, something inside you will shift.   Shiv Shankar Jha is not a loud wr

There are books you read, and there are books that read you. I didn’t expect that a quiet-looking hardcover with a nostalgic photograph of Mussoorie nestled on the cover would do that to me—but the moment I cracked open Mussoorie Montage: Tales from the Hills by Divyaroop Bhatnagar, I felt something shift. It was like stepping into a fog-thick morning on Camel’s Back Road where everything feels familiar yet charged with the thrill of what might be waiting around the next bend

It’s strange, isn’t it — how love sneaks up on you in the smallest of moments? A random smile from a stranger, a dog wagging its tail, a message from an old friend. That’s how this book found me too — quietly, unexpectedly, but all at once. Love, Multiplied (111 Times) didn’t shout for attention. It whispered. And somehow, that whisper was louder than all the noise around me.   Curated by Megha Bajaj — an author, TEDx speaker, educator, and someone who seems to have mastered