A(NU) Thought

Everyone is the protagonist in their own story One thing I have realized over time is this: Every person is the protagonist in his or her own life. No matter who they are. The partner who controls every decision and calls it care. The friend who disappears when needed most, yet believes they are loyal. The boss who constantly demoralizes employees. The parent who is so strict that fear replaces comfort. The teacher who pressures students into taking private tuition. The colleague who takes credit for teamwork and calls it visibility. The influencer who spreads misinformation and calls it freedom of expression. Whether knowingly or unknowingly, ethically or unethically, most people believe they are justified in what they do.

Every year, organizations hire bright interns and freshers from top institutes. They come in with promise, potential, and the right intent. But somewhere between onboarding and execution, something quietly breaks. Not because they lack capability. But because they’re not really trained, properly. In many workplaces, especially in fast-paced functions like communications, freshers are given tasks, targets, and timelines, but not the depth required to execute them well. Take something as simple as media outreach.

The Daughters of Shantiniketan is authored by Debalina Haldar and published by Readomania .  Charu, the ideal daughter from an aristocratic family, grows up believing that everything around her is perfect, never questioning the way her cousins are raised or the silent rules binding the women of the household. Her world begins to shift when she falls in love with a free-spirited, bohemian singer.  Charu slowly realizes that others might have been right all along, that the men in her family have been deeply condescending, and that the life she accepted as “normal” was built on patriarchal control. The story follows the daughters and daughters-in-law of this prominent Kolkata family, tracing how their aspirations, talents, and passions are gradually clipped until they become quiet victims of tradition.

Harlen Coben is a master of crafting long, twisty stories packed with suspense. I had read Fool Me Once (also adapted into a TV series) quite some time ago, and I remember being blown away by how effortlessly he creates chaos out of simple threads. The Innocent is no different. The story begins with Matt Hunter, an ordinary teenager whose one tragic mistake, an accidental murder, haunts him for life. After serving his sentence, Matt tries to rebuild his world, but just as things seem to settle, he’s thrown into a web of shocking secrets and mysteries involving his pregnant wife, Olivia. Add to it the emotional turmoil he goes through. From there, the plot spirals deeper as more characters enter, old crimes resurface, and new twists unfold.

Dadi, Dantkatha and the Djinns by Avanti Sopory , published by Readomania , is a delightful anthology of folk tales from Kashmir.  This book instantly reminded me of my childhood days, when we would sit around an elderly person, listening with rapt attention to tales, folklores, and stories that carried wisdom within them.  That same charm flows through these pages, which bring together 27 tales of kings, rulers, peasants, families, villagers, talking animals, and even fairies, each with its own morals and lessons to reflect on. It’s refreshing to see these short, timeless tales being shared, almost like opening a treasure chest of oral storytelling that’s been passed down for generations. I am amazed at how the author managed to remember or collect all of these stories, preserving them in such a simple yet engaging way. It feels like a bridge between past and present, ensuring that the magic of these narratives is not lost. This is not just a book, it’s an experience, ...

My latest read (a bit delayed, but never mind), winner of the 2025 Booker Prize , Heart Lamp is a collection of selected stories by Banu Mustaq , translated by Deepa Bhasthi , originally written in Kannada between 1990 and 2023.  As promised, it shines a light on the everyday struggles of Muslim women, focusing on gender inequality, patriarchy, oppression, domestic violence, and more. Now, is it worth a Booker Prize? Honestly, I’m not the best person to comment on that. But here’s what I felt—many of these stories felt familiar, maybe even too familiar, if you’ve grown up in India.  Tales of patriarchy, domestic abuse, women belittling women… we have all seen or heard these around us. So, what makes Heart Lamp special?