I just finished reading Arundhati Roy’s memoir Mother Mary Comes to Me. Earlier, when I read and reviewed her novel Utmost (I’d once seen a humbug mock it), I had noted that her writing spilled over with anger and intensity. Now, in this memoir, she lists the reasons for that anger. She shows that her […]
I had tried The Trees by Percival Everett before, but couldn’t quite get into it—largely due to the audio narration. I faced a similar issue with James, his clever retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. That said, I finally revisited The Trees, and I’m glad I did. It starts off in Mississippi as a
Writing is all about knowing when to stop. That applies to writers themselves too—they should know when to quit. 2025, Week 27 I read two books on Storytel this week: Bheemachan by N.S. Madhavan and Ambilimol Thirodhanam by G.R. Indugopan. And honestly—are these even books? One reads like an extended short story, the other like an unsold film script. N.S. Madhavan is
Meeting Ajai has been a regular part of my life—this time, we met after 2.6 years. He remains one of my top three in Malayalam, not just for his writing, but also for his reading. We talked about Proust, Han Kang’s We Do Not Part, and the contemporary Malayalam novel scene. I’ve been extremely busy
Ever since I began reading Knausgaard—whose work is often categorized as autofiction—I’ve been looking for parallels in other literary traditions, including Malayalam. In my language, few writers come close, but Kamala Das stands out as a possible exception. Her three autobiographical works—Balyakalasmaranakal, Neermathalam Pootha Kalam, and Varshangalkku Munpu—are, of course, semi-fictionalized accounts of her upper-middle-class
We’re nearly at the half-year mark, and it’s shaping up to be a strong reading year — 39 books in, including a graphic novel. Not too shabby, if I may say so myself. This week, I finally tackled a long-overdue Malayalam chunkster by Indugopan that’s been lingering on my TBR for a while. 2025, Week