Sameer Gudhate Presents the Book Review of Love, Multiplied (111 Times) by Megha Bajaj

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 the art of turning ordinary emotions into extraordinary revelations — this anthology is unlike anything I’ve read in recent times. Published by Apricity, a Bookosmia Imprint, it brings together 111 authors from across the world, aged between 9 and 86, each offering their own intimate slice of love. Not the airbrushed kind we see in films, but love as it actually breathes — awkward, imperfect, resilient, and achingly human.

The premise is simple, yet powerful. The book gathers stories that explore love in all its hues — between parent and child, friends, lovers, teachers, pets, and, perhaps most tenderly, with oneself. There’s laughter and heartbreak, beginnings and endings, discovery and rediscovery. Each story stands alone, but together they form a mosaic — a living, breathing portrait of love as a universal force.

What struck me first was the voice. The writing feels personal, like the author of each piece is sitting beside you, speaking softly over a cup of tea. Some stories unfold like diary entries, others like quiet poems. There’s no pretence, no over-polished language. Megha’s curation ensures that each voice retains its rawness — the childlike wonder of a 9-year-old, the reflective grace of an octogenarian. You can almost hear the emotional cadence shift from page to page, yet the underlying heartbeat — of love in all its sincerity — stays constant.

The prose itself is uncluttered and lyrical. It doesn’t demand to be analyzed; it asks to be felt. You find metaphors that smell like rain, laughter that sounds like home, and silences that speak louder than words. There’s a tenderness in how the stories are placed — an ebb and flow that feels organic. Some entries are brief, a paragraph long, yet they land with the weight of memory. Others stretch out like a lingering sunset, giving you space to sit with your own reflections.

One story — about a grandmother writing to her late husband — left me staring at the ceiling for a while. It wasn’t the loss that broke me; it was the quiet continuity of her love, the way she still made his favorite tea every morning. Another piece, written by a child, spoke of her pet dog teaching her to listen with her heart. And then there was a story of self-love — raw, unfiltered, and brave — reminding me that sometimes, the hardest person to love is ourselves.

The structure of the book is divided into eleven themes, each exploring a different dimension of love — from romance and friendship to loss and healing. It reads beautifully whether you choose to go from cover to cover or open it at random. I often found myself doing the latter, especially before bed. Reading one story at a time became my way of unwinding — a ritual of rediscovering small kindnesses in an unkind world.

What makes Love, Multiplied stand out is its honesty. There’s no pretence of perfection here. Not every story is polished, but every story is true. And that’s the book’s quiet power — it doesn’t try to impress you; it tries to reach you. Megha Bajaj’s guiding presence is felt throughout — invisible yet unmistakable — like a conductor ensuring every emotion finds its rightful note.

If I had to mention a flaw, it would be this: some stories end too soon. Just as you begin to sink into the emotion, it’s over. But maybe that’s the point. Love often feels that way too — fleeting, unfinished, but unforgettable.

Reading this book reminded me of something a female friend once told me — “Love isn’t about what you get, it’s about what you give away and still feel full.” As I read through these 111 stories, that line echoed again and again. Because love, when multiplied, doesn’t divide. It expands.

This anthology is for anyone who has ever loved deeply or lost dearly, who’s learning to love again, or who’s simply forgotten what love feels like. It’s for readers who want to pause, breathe, and reconnect with something pure in a world that often feels rushed and disconnected.

When I closed the final page, I didn’t feel like I had finished a book. I felt like I had attended a gathering — of hearts, of stories, of humanity itself. And as I sat there, chai growing cold beside me, I realized something quietly profound: love doesn’t just multiply when shared; it heals, it teaches, it transforms.

So, pick up Love, Multiplied (111 Times). Don’t rush it. Read one story at a time, and let it find the soft corners of your heart you’ve forgotten existed. Because somewhere in those 111 voices, you’ll find your own.

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