This volume marks the fiftieth anniversary of one of the defining moments of Indian history. It examines the Emergency and its aftermath from diverse perspectives – political, historical, legal, economic, philosophical, experiential and cultural, among others. Bringing together leading scholars and writers, it explores how the Emergency transformed Indian polity, and shaped law enforcement and penal practices, the media, student movements, judicial responses, subaltern politics and literary expression, and examines why analysis of the Emergency is still relevant to political discourse in India today.
The extract published on Moneycontrol is from the chapter “Many Meanings of Freedom: The Dandawate Prison Letters” by scholar Gyan Prakash. It is about a set of letters exchanged between the socialist leader Madhu Dandavate (1924–2005) and his wife Pramila Dandavate (1928–2002). 50 Years of the Indian Emergency: Lessons for Democracy is published by Orient Blackswan.
‘. . . a probing and kaleidoscopic reassessment of the origins, . . . the book prompts us to reconsider the multiple dimensions and layers of a compacted historical period and the many frameworks that continue to influence our understanding of it. . . .’ Srinath Raghavan, author of Indira Gandhi and the Years that Transformed India
Peter Ronald deSouza is Senior Research Associate, African Centre for Epistemology and Philosophy of Science (ACEPS), University of Johannesburg, and Trustee of the Institute of Social Studies Trust. He was Director, Indian Institute of Advanced Study (IIAS), Shimla, for two terms (2007–13).
Harsh Sethi worked as Consulting Editor of the monthly Seminar for two decades. Earlier he was with Sage Publications as Acquisitions Editor. He also held positions of Fellow at the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies, and Deputy Director at the Indian Council of Social Science Research.
Music is not only widely discussed but also the most readily available form of art known to mankind. At just the click of a button, one can now listen to any song of any genre – even from the last century! But it wasn’t always this way.
In this brisk, breakneck journey across millennia, award-winning musician and broadcaster Andrew Ford paints a glorious picture to show what really draws us to this sonic art form and how it has evolved. He traces the inventions and reinventions that have contributed to the popularity and accessibility of modern music; early oral forms; the invention of notations; the first recording technology and record companies, and explores how the multibillion-dollar industry we know today came to be.
Andrew Ford’s music has been performed and recorded around the world, played by ensembles such as the Australian Chamber Orchestra, the Brodsky Quartet and the New Juilliard Ensemble, and sung by the likes of Yvonne Kenny, Katie Noonan and Iva Bittová. He presents The Music Show on ABC Radio National and has written ten books ranging from a study of sound in film to the songs of Van Morrison to the compulsion of composers to explore the primitive in their music.
For Moneycontrol, I interviewed Priyamvada Mehra on her recently published memoir The Cost of a Promised Afterlife: My Escape from a Controversial Religious Cult in India. It is published by Simon & Schuster India. I am ever so grateful that Priyamvada replied in the detail that she did as this is not an easy past to revisit. Later, she very kindly wrote, “Thank you for the gentleness and care you’ve put into this interview process, I really appreciate it.”
Here is the interview.
Priyamvada Mehra’s memoir, The Cost of a Promised Afterlife, has been published by Simon & Schuster India. At the age of nine, she was led into the fold of Rampal, a self-proclaimed godman who promised miracle cures and salvation in exchange for submission. What began as her parents’ desperate attempt to save her mother’s life from a brain tumour soon became something far more sinister—a world where faith became a cage, obedience a virtue and control, absolute. By thirteen, Priyamvada was a devoted follower. In 2006, she was inside his ashram, used as a human shield during a deadly clash between Rampal’s followers and a rival sect. Questioning was forbidden, loyalty was everything and defiance came at a cost. She endured heartbreaking losses and grew up with a twisted logic of miracles, bans on medical treatment, and violent sermons.
She witnessed her family fall to pieces under the weight of indoctrination and diseases. For two decades, she stumbled between two treacherous worlds, one ruled by cultic control, and both shaped by patriarchy, caste and class, and the systemic violence they breed.
In The Cost of a Promised Afterlife, Priyamvada Mehra finally tells her story. The memoir exposes how cults take root in a nation of 1.4 billion, and how godmen wield unchecked power. In India, godmen are everywhere. They exist. Their photos hang on walls, their voices fill television screens and their names are spoken in both prayers and scandals. But the word ‘cult’ is rarely used. It stays unspoken until another scandal breaks out, only to be buried under silence again. This silence allows blind faith to thrive and logic to crumble. Deeply intersectional in its lens, it lays bare the psychological and physical toll of being led into blind faith as a girl and the long journey of dissenting as a woman in a ‘man’s world’.
While reading it, I had to put it down many times and take a break. When an individual narrates a traumatic incident, a self-defence mechanism automatically kicks in, and the person recounts the incident(s) in the third person. It is delivered in a deadpan style. It is a self-preservation act to prevent themselves from any further harm while recollecting. This is evident in oral and written narratives. So, to read this memoir that is written in the first person but in a manner that it hammers the reader’s head with a nonstop single dull beat is quite unusual. Read the memoir for yourself and judge. In Sept 2025, Rampal was granted bail, but remains in Tihar Jail as he is considered a “risk to public order” by the Hissar district court.
This interview with Priyamvada Mehra was conducted via email. She now lives between India and Amsterdam, delicately exploring the idea of home and identity.
1. What was the genesis of this memoir? Why did you feel the need to document this story?
After moving to Europe in 2022, I found myself unable to adapt or function as what you’d call a “normal adult”. That failure pushed me to look inward, and that introspection led me straight back to my past, something I thought I had long left behind. To make sense of what I was feeling, I began reading everything I could: books, memoirs, research papers, anything that could bring me closer to understanding my own experiences and help me name them.
Somewhere in that process, I also began pouring my memories out onto paper. It felt like a flash flood. It was overwhelming, intense, and unstoppable. Before I knew it, I was staring at a few hundred pages of what I called “angry notes.” That’s when it struck me, maybe this was a story. So, the memoir wasn’t planned; it was born out of an excruciating process of introspection, a journey I was forced to take in order to move forward in my life.
2. What did it entail to write about your experiences? Did you require your family’s consent to include them in the story?
I tried finding people in India with similar experiences but couldn’t find much that resonated, or any literature on it, barring some investigative work. The only memoirs or academic writings on cults I came across were mostly by Westerners, especially Americans. The first book I read while coming to terms with my reality was Take Back Your Life: Recovering from Cults and Abusive Relationships by Janja Lalich and Madeleine Tobias. It gave me a language I didn’t have. It laid out the anatomy of a cult, the profile of a cult leader, and the long-term psychological damage caused by indoctrination and abusive relationships. It was a revelation. I hadn’t known I’d grown up in one. I hadn’t realised the relationships I was still chasing were rooted in abuse. That book cracked something open. No one had ever educated me about cults. No one used that word, even in a country like India, supposedly the world’s spiritual centre, where hundreds of thousands of self-proclaimed godmen and godwomen command the devotion of desperate millions. It forced me to see the desperation we lived with; how broken people cling to anything that promises certainty, even if that certainty comes from a ten-year-old boy in saffron robes calling himself a divine messenger when he should be in school, or from gurus protected by politicians, global celebrities, and power.
I returned to that book again and again. From there, I kept reading: memoirs, survivor accounts, research papers, anything that brought me closer to understanding my own experiences. I studied cults and their generational impact, the quiet struggles of those with disabilities and illnesses, and the heavy toll of caregiving. I uncovered the deep scars of caste and class, and traced the violence born of gender and patriarchy. Through that process, I finally found the vocabulary to articulate my own experience, and that’s how the writing began.
Unfortunately, consent wasn’t possible or practical, because my family remains deeply under the sway of the very cult I escaped from.
3. When and how did you find your voice to write this memoir/ your testimony? Recalling these facts could not have been easy.
The long process of introspection and reflection out of which my memoir was born took me through all five stages of grief, perhaps even more. First came the shock and disbelief that this was actually my life, that my entire family, our opportunities, our very existence, had been systematically eroded by a godman who, even while incarcerated, continues to exert control. The realisation that I was the only one who had made it to the other side of that religious dogma, the only one seeing things critically, was both liberating and devastating.
Then came another truth. The realisation that I had been at the receiving end of abuse and violence based on gender and caste. It sucked the soul out of my body. Abuse had been so thoroughly normalised for me for years that it took time to even recognise it for what it was. Then came anger. Each memory ignited such a seething fury within me that I wanted to claw my way back through time to throw the punches I never got to land. That’s when I began purging it all out on paper. All my traumas surfaced in ways I hadn’t expected.
I sought therapy for the first time in my life and was soon diagnosed with Complex-PTSD (please note: I was orally diagnosed and wasn’t prescribed any tests for diagnosis).
I continued to confuse scraps for love, to look for empathy in the wrong places, in the wrong people, hoping they would understand my pain, not realising they were, unfortunately, the source of it. It took immense emotional labour, therapy, and both physical and psychological safety before I could finally see clearly and muster the strength to break free from the chains of fear that had bound me for so long.
It’s hard to put into words how excruciating the entire process was. There were times I felt I was losing my mind. But I learned to take pauses when my mind and body signalled me to. I would return after a week, or a month, or more, whenever my gut told me I was ready again.
4. Writing is cathartic. Even for PTSD survivors. Did revisiting old traumas heal you?
If I had the choice, I would probably have preferred to just enjoy my new life in Europe, the travel, the nature, the quality of life. But I simply couldn’t. Even while exploring, even while trying to distract myself, I couldn’t shake off the emotional and psychological ache. My body kept giving me sensations that made me feel unsafe at all times. It was as if I were constantly confronted by a wild animal, even though, in reality, I was safe and loved.
I didn’t have the option but to try and figure out why I was feeling that way. My sole intention was to feel and act like a “normal,” functioning adult. I hadn’t thought of catharsis at that point because I didn’t even know what was wrong in the first place. When I eventually was able to put a name to my experiences, I still didn’t attach myself to the idea of catharsis or closure, because there was no guarantee it would give me that. So, I wrote, free from the expectation that it would heal me.
Writing or purging my past onto paper had always been my way of confronting difficult times when I had no one to talk to, no one to help me make sense of the dysfunction around me. This time too, I turned to writing without knowing how it would help. Only now, holding the book in my hands, do I feel proud of having stood up for my younger self. I feel deeply satisfied that I was able to find my voice, my identity. It has given me immense hope for the future, and a belief that I can slowly undo the harm.
Revisiting old traumas, again, wasn’t a choice I made. The traumas revealed themselves in their full force and I had no option but to confront them.
The process was painful, excruciating. It drained me, left me low and uncertain the whole time. But now that it’s out, now that it’s tangible, each cell in my body feels as though life has been injected back into it. Holding my book gives me a true sense of catharsis. It’s an acceptance of the reality of my loss: the loss of my family, my childhood, my time. And at the same time, I feel a deep, boundless hope, not just for myself, but for others who may find themselves in similar situations in their own lives.
5. In what manner did you learn to distance yourself from the cult’s teachings and by extension your family? You document some of the friction in the memoir, but please elaborate.
The process of distancing myself from the cult’s teachings was gradual and continuous. It began early in my life, around 2010, when my mother left home. But I couldn’t fully distance myself, because my family remained deeply consumed by the dogma, and I lived with them until 2020.
While reading Terror, Love and Brainwashing by Alexandra Stein, I underlined a line that has stayed with me: “Almost anyone, given the right set of circumstances, can be radically manipulated into otherwise incomprehensible and often dangerous acts.” It’s true. The timing was cruel. My parents found the cult when they were at their most vulnerable. Only then did I begin to fully understand how religious extremism had shaped my family and by extension, me.
It wasn’t just about belief. It was tied to my parents’ disabilities, their chronic illnesses, the weight of caste and class, the pressures of marriage, and the desperation of parenting in scarcity. None of these struggles existed in isolation; they fed into one another, creating the perfect storm. And in that storm, a godman found his grip.
Throughout my childhood and beyond, I inherited their fears, their traumas, and their hopes for salvation. They passed it on unknowingly. And I carried the cost. It’s only now that I truly realise the weight of that inheritance.
In writing this book, I made a sincere effort to portray my once beautiful, fun-loving family with both empathy and honesty, to acknowledge the complexity of human beings and their choices, while not softening the harsh realities of the abuse and oppression I endured. Even though they see themselves as “the chosen ones,” I see them as victims of larger manipulative systems.
If I could make one wish today, it would be to free my family from years of religious thought reform and place them back in time, when they accepted their reality, imperfect and flawed. When they didn’t chase idealised, problem-free lives, but embraced life with authenticity, navigating it as best they could. When they refused anyone selling them the illusion of certainty. When they were adults with autonomy, critical thinking, and the ability to question authority. That’s what the cult robbed them of.
6. How much of your objectivity on this past life of living in Rampal’s cult was honed by travelling/living abroad?
Objectivity was always there, that’s probably why I could start asking questions quite early on. But the way it sharpened after I moved to Europe was incomparable. Living abroad brought a massive shift in my perspective, about identity, self-worth, race, gender, caste, the politics of everything.
In India, I never really felt like I was having it the worst. Every day I saw poverty, homelessness, hunger, disease. I saw potholes, road rage, accidents, the daily evidence of systemic failure, and it all felt normal. That social failure had been accepted and normalised; chaos had become culture.
When I moved to Europe, I was suddenly surrounded by people from all over the world who were openly talking about racism, gender, colonial history, power. I saw Black people reclaiming their power, queer people living with pride, women walking safely on streets. These were things I had never experienced before. There was a sense of accountability, of questioning authority, especially in Amsterdam, and I felt that deeply.
In India, I had always been trying to fit into a narrative created by the upper caste, the rich and elite. I was ashamed, never fully confident, always evading questions about my caste, where my parents came from, all those markers of social hierarchy. But living abroad helped me shed that shame that society had forced upon me. I began to remove shame from my caste identity, from gender-based violence, from my experience in the cult, from everything that made me feel small or unsure of myself, all of which had never been my fault.
The more I looked around and heard people’s stories, the more I realised just how abnormal my own life had been. I don’t think I would have been able to write this memoir had I not gone through that cultural shock. In a way, it became a blessing in disguise.
7. Your mother left the family to live in the ashram. Apart from her being sicklier upon her return, were there any fundamental differences that you noted in her as being a woman who had lived in a community governed by a patriarchal authoritarian figure?
Her being sicklier upon her return wasn’t just physical, it was deeply mental. It was terrifying to have my mother back, not only with a broken body but also with a fractured mind. Alongside her treatment for Pott’s spine, she also had to undergo psychiatric care. Watching that was one of the most painful experiences of my life.
She had returned completely consumed by her devotion to Rampal. Her cognitive abilities had deteriorated, and her demeanour had become almost childlike, especially in the presence of visitors. She was the textbook example of someone whose identity and agency had been completely eroded by a religious cult. Post her return, she was delusional, disconnected from reality, and incapable of functioning as an autonomous adult.
Her transformation was the outcome of years of systematic thought reform, compounded by her ill health, an illness that the cult, I believe, deliberately sustained to keep her dependent and submissive. Emotionally and psychologically, she had become unrecognisable. The mother I once knew was gone. What remained was a helpless, fearful child in an adult’s body.
When we were instructed to bring her home from the ashram, she was paralysed neck down at that point, she reportedly didn’t even want to return. She still believed that Rampal was her only saviour, that he alone could deliver her from her suffering. That’s how deeply the indoctrination ran.
What’s even more heartbreaking is that no one in the family, neither my father nor my brother, questioned her condition, or how she had ended up that way. It was just accepted as divine will. We had been so thoroughly conditioned to never question the cult leader, to never question him.
The cult left her incapable of living in society as an independent person. It robbed her not just of her health, but of her sense of self.
On being a woman who had lived in a community governed by a patriarchal authoritarian figure, it wasn’t much different. Her life was still governed by patriarchy even before the cult. The place of the husband was taken by the guru.
8. Rampal had a rule that to criticize him was strictly forbidden/ (The 15th Rule out of 23 rules). He also said that “any alternative ideology or religious teaching was framed as corrupt, further isolating them from outside perspectives”. How is this any different from any other evangelical leader or a patriarch?
Perhaps it isn’t very different at all. Cults, after all, come in many forms and names — eastern or western, religious or political, family-based or corporate. What defines them is not their label, but the methods they use to control, manipulate, and isolate people. Rampal’s system, like many others, followed the classic anatomy of a cult.
Here are some defining characteristics of a religious cult that can help identify whether an individual, group, or organisation fits that description. These have been compiled based on well-established authoritative sources in cult psychology and sociology research.:
Charismatic Leadership – The cult revolves around a self-proclaimed guru, baba, or spiritual figure who demands absolute loyalty and obedience.
Blind Devotion and Control – Followers must surrender entirely to the leader’s authority, often cutting ties with family, education, or mainstream faith.
Exclusive Teachings – The leader claims to possess a unique path to salvation or truth, unavailable anywhere else.
Exploitation – Financial, emotional, and sometimes sexual exploitation is common. Followers may be forced to donate money, perform unpaid labour, or endure abuse disguised as devotion.
Fear and Doomsday Narratives – Members are taught that leaving or questioning the leader will bring divine punishment or disaster.
Isolation from Society – Followers are encouraged to live in communes or ashrams, severing connections with the outside world.
Political or Criminal Ties – Many cults build protection networks through political or financial influence, sometimes operating like criminal enterprises.
Cults use classic psychological manipulation techniques to recruit and retain followers:
Love bombing: overwhelming new recruits with affection and belonging.
Fear and guilt: convincing them that leaving means ruin or death.
Thought reform: constant repetition of teachings to erase critical thinking.
Us vs. Them mentality: portraying outsiders as corrupt or impure.
Gradual commitment: small acts of devotion that escalate into total control.
Public confession and humiliation: used to enforce obedience and shame
So, to answer the question, there isn’t much difference between cult leaders like Rampal, or other leaders who weaponize faith for control, or patriarchs who demand submission. They all thrive on power, fear, and dependence. The only difference lies in the language and setting, the ideology changes, but the mechanics of control remain strikingly similar.
9. With hindsight, what did you lose, what did you gain (if at all!) by spending fourteen formative years in a religious cult from the age of nine? Years later, does the incarcerated Rampal and his cult teachings still have a hold on you?
It took me two decades to realise that I was a victim of a religious cult in India. I continue to lose my family to one, and nothing hurts more. It also took me years to understand that I was a victim of patriarchy, of casteism, and of the violence that these structures of oppression breed, all of it without any fault of my own. Unfortunately, that is what we call our “culture”. The time I lost isn’t coming back. The family I lost isn’t coming back. The long-term psychological and physiological harm cannot be undone. I’ve had to rebuild my life around that loss.
If I’m honest, I don’t think I gained anything, I only lost. The deepest wound has been losing my family to this cult and its relentless thought reform. I wouldn’t wish that on any child. I want parents, especially in India, to understand this, because our culture gives parents immense control over their children’s lives. There’s rarely any real separation, even after eighteen. Their lives are intertwined, but when parents, out of fear or misplaced faith, make decisions that deny their children autonomy, it becomes selfish and irresponsible. Their intentions may be good, but intention often translates into control and fear and that harms a child’s physical, psychological, and emotional wellbeing.
As for Rampal, I feel nothing for him now. But his teachings, the sermons, the rules, the consequences that were drilled into my young mind, have left their residue. They disrupted my relationship with the idea of spirituality itself. Years of indoctrination instilled an irrational fear that something bad would happen to me because I am a “traitor.” That fear is faint now, almost negligible, and it diminishes with each passing day.
Today, I have built a life that is beautiful, authentic, and free. A life that feels completely my own. And in that, I feel very far removed from the world I was once part of.
My story, I believe, can raise awareness about religious cults in India. It can help girls and women truly stand up for themselves and create the beautiful lives they have never stopped dreaming of. My story can help start a dialogue about the rot of caste and patriarchy, in our own minds, in our families, in our homes, and in our society. My memoir offers a deep look into the social issues we remain wilfully naive or ignorant about in India. It takes you through an excruciating journey of my escape from a religious cult, but it is equally a story of hope, possibility, freedom, power, and the beauty of a girl’s rebellion. I have written this book for my nine-year-old self, whose wings were clipped before they had a chance to form. I wrote it for my sixteen-year-old self, who had only known how to exist in crippling fear. I wrote it for my twenty-four-year-old self, who was doing her best just to survive. And then, I thought of the millions of girls who are nine, sixteen, and twenty-four today, in India and elsewhere, abused, helpless, subservient, scared, yet still dreaming. I decided to take them along with me on this journey. And so, I wrote it for them too. Readers will take away inspiration, to take a deep look within, and an even deeper look around. This book will open people’s eyes to their own truths and realities, and how they wish to navigate through them. What they choose to uphold, what they choose to change, and what they choose to let go.
From celebrated nature writer and academic Robert Macfarlane comes this brilliant, perspective-shifting new book – which answers a resounding yes to the question of its title.
At its heart is a single, transformative idea: that rivers are not mere matter for human use, but living beings – who should be recognized as such in both imagination and law. Is a River Alive? takes the reader on an exhilarating exploration of the past, present and futures of this ancient, urgent concept. It is published by Penguin India.
The book flows first to northern Ecuador, where a miraculous cloud-forest and its rivers are threatened by goldmining.
Then, to the wounded rivers, creeks and lagoons of southern India, where a desperate battle to save the lives of these waterbodies is under way.
And finally, to north-eastern Quebec, where a spectacular wild river – the Mutehekau or Magpie – is being defended from death by damming in a river-rights campaign.
At once Macfarlane’s most personal and most political book to date, Is a River Alive? will open hearts, spark debates and lead us to the revelation that our fate flows with that of rivers – and always has.
Is A River Alive? is a beautifully written, poetic testament to the vitality of the Earth and the forms of politics that can be based upon that premise — Amitav Ghosh
A rich and visionary work of immense beauty. Macfarlane is a memory keeper. What is broken in our societies, he mends with words. Rarely does a book hold such power, passion, and poetry in its exploration of nature. Read this to feel inspired, moved, and ultimately, alive — Elif Shafak
This book is a beautiful, wild exploration of an ancient idea: that rivers are living participants in a living world. Robert Macfarlane’s astonishing telling of the lives of three rivers reveals how these vital flow forms have the power not only to shape and reshape the planet, but also our thoughts, feelings, and worldviews. Is a River Alive? is a breathtaking work that speaks powerfully to this moment of crisis and transformation — Merlin Sheldrake
This book is itself a river of poetic prose, an invitation to get onboard and float through the rapids of encounters with places and people, the eddies of ideas, to navigate the resurgence of Indigenous worldviews through three extraordinary journeys recounted with a vividness that lifts readers out of themselves and into these waterscapes. Read it for pleasure, read it for illumination, read it for confirmation that our world is changing in wonderful as well as terrible ways — Rebecca Solnit
Robert Macfarlane is a once-in-a-generation virtuoso, and I don’t know when his kaleidoscopic language and world-expanding scholarship have been used to more potent effect than in this impassioned, resounding affirmative to the title’s urgent question — John Vaillant
Is a River Alive? is one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time―exciting, brilliantly comprehensive, mind-altering. In one of its many stunning moments, Macfarlane describes the myriad rivers trapped and buried under the concrete of our cities. “Daylighting” occurs on those rare occasions when these ghost-rivers are dug out & released to the surface to feel the sun, to expand―majestic creatures―and spread life once again. To read this book is to feel your ghosted soul undergo such “daylighting”―metaphysical, political, emotional, linguistic. Any soul going dormant, any citizen going numb, will be revivified and propelled back to their essential core, where rage, wonder, and imagination intertwine, and a powerful hope for the earth arises. A spellbinding, life-changing work — Jorie Graham
Robert Macfarlane is internationally renowned for his writing on nature, people and place. His bestselling books include Underland, Landmarks, The Old Ways, The Wild Places and Mountains of the Mind, as well as a book-length prose-poem, Ness. His work has been translated into more than thirty languages, won prizes around the world, and been widely adapted for film, music, theatre, radio and dance. He has also written operas, plays, and films including River and Mountain, both narrated by Willem Dafoe. He has collaborated closely with artists including Olafur Eliasson and Stanley Donwood, and with the artist Jackie Morris he co-created the internationally bestselling books of nature-poetry and art, The Lost Words and The Lost Spells. As a lyricist and performer, he has written albums and songs with musicians including Cosmo Sheldrake, Karine Polwart and Johnny Flynn, with whom he has released two albums, Lost In The Cedar Wood (2021) and The Moon Also Rises (2023). In 2017, the American Academy of Arts and Letters awarded him the E.M. Forster Prize for Literature, and in 2022 in Toronto he was the inaugural winner of the Weston International Award for a body of work in the field of non-fiction. The latter is worth CA $75,000. He is a Fellow of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, and is currently completing his third book with Jackie Morris: The Lost Birds.
Since it was first published in 2006, this beloved volume of essays by A. R. Venkatachalapathy on the cultural history of colonial Tamilnadu has been enjoyed equally by scholars looking for rigorous history-writing and lay informed readers in search of a classic good read. The new expanded edition hopes to do more of the same.
The author draws from sources as varied as poetry, fiction, essays, reviews, comments, advertisements, and notices to bring to life a rich and vibrant cultural history. As authoritative as they are captivating, the ten essays in the volume represent a valuable addition to the small corpus of history titles which also qualify as accomplished writing.
A.R. Venkatachalapathy, historian and Tamil writer, is a Professor at the Madras Institute of Development Studies, Chennai. He has taught at universities in Tirunelveli, Chennai, Singapore, and Chicago. A recipient of the V.K.R.V. Rao Prize, the Mahakavi Bharati Award, and the Ramnath Goenka Award he has also received the Vilakku Pudumaippithan Award and Iyal Virudhu, both for lifetime contribution to Tamil. In 2024, he won the Sahitya Akademi award for Tamil. Venkatachalapathy has written/edited over thirty books in Tamil. His publications in English include Swadeshi Steam: V.O. Chidambaram Pillai and the Battle Against the British Maritime Empire (winner of the Ramnath Goenka Award for Excellence non-fiction, 2024); The Brief History of a Very Big Book: The Making of the Tamil Encyclopaedia; Tamil Characters: Personalities, Politics, Culture; Who Owns That Song?: The Battle for Subramania Bharati’s Copyright; and The Province of the Book: Scholars, Scribes, and Scribblers in Colonial Tamil Nadu.
In The Health and Wealth Paradox, Ankush Datar and Mihir Patki present a set of principles. These principles of health and wealth are known already to everyone but the emphasis that the authors place on them being so intertwined with each other that one can learn from either discipline and apply those lessons to both. Principles such as less is more, your plan is your north star, delayed gratification, and to never judge a book by its cover. These also lend themselves to the chapter titles. Based on decades of their combined experiences in overcoming lifestyle diseases, creating sustainable patterns of healthy eating and workouts without compromising on occasional binges, and building a robust investment process for wealth creation, Datar and Patki bust popular myths, provide an actionable toolkit and endeavour to bring sanity back to the lives of many who have given up on the idea of having health and wealth together.
Ankush Datar is an investment professional, health and fitness enthusiast, and writer. He has been working in the professional investing field for the last eight years and is currently associated with PhillipCapital India in their portfolio-management services fund-management team, giving him a ringside view of the investing profession. He is a marathon runner and weightlifter, and has been doing both for the last fifteen years. He has also contributed articles to financial-services publications, appeared on podcasts and written blogs for health-tech startups and brands. He writes a personal blog on investing, health and psychology, and how these disciplines converge.
Mihir Patki is an investment professional with a deep passion for personal finance and nutrition. He started his career at Deloitte before transitioning to various capital markets roles with Bank of America Merrill Lynch and JM Financial. From 2013 to 2020, Mihir led CVK Advisors, a boutique advisory firm where he focused on special situations credit. In 2020, he co-founded Multipie, a social network for investors that grew into a vibrant community of over 1 lakh members from novices to seasoned experts. Multipie was acquired by ICICI Securities in 2022. Mihir currently works with Tata Capital’s structured finance team. He is a chartered accountant and holds an MBA from the University of Oxford.
A provocative new vision of how our world really works – and why chance determines everything.
In Fluke, myth-shattering social scientist Brian Klaas deep-dives into the phenomenon of randomness, unpicking our neat and tidy storybook version of events to reveal a reality far wilder and more fascinating than we have dared to consider. The bewildering truth is that but for a few incidental changes, our lives – and our societies – would be radically different.
Offering an entirely new perspective, Fluke explores how our world really works, driven by strange interactions and random events. How much difference does our decision to hit the snooze button make? Did one couple’s vacation really change the course of the twentieth century? What are the smallest accidents that have tilted the course of history itself?
The mind-bending lessons of this phenomenon challenge our beliefs about the very workings of the world. From the evolution of human biology and natural disasters to the impact of global events on supply chain disruptions, every detail matters because of the web of connectivity that envelops us. So what if, by exploding our illusion of control, we can make better decisions and live happy, fulfilling lives?
Brian Klaas grew up in Minnesota, earned his DPhil at Oxford, and is now a professor of global politics at University College London. He is a contributing writer for The Atlantic, host of the award-winning Power Corrupts podcast, and frequent guest on national television. Klaas has conducted field research across the globe and advised major politicians and organizations including NATO and the European Union. Klaas also writes a newsletter called The Garden of Forking Paths.
Bhaskar Chattopadhyay is an author, screenwriter and academic. He is Professor of Cinema, York University, Toronto. He divides his time between writing, publishing, teaching and research. He has written sixteen books and one feature length film. His popular mystery series featuring the astute detective Janardan Maity and his friend and chronicler Prakash Ray have six novels, with more to come. Bhaskar has translated veteran Bengali authors including Rabindra Nath Tagore, Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay and Satyajit Ray. He has novelized Satyajit Ray’s iconic 1961 film Nayak, and written a book titled The Cinema of Satyajit Ray that is taught in universities and film schools around the world. Bhaskar’s first feature film released to packed theatres and was received well by audiences and critics alike. Bhaskar has an MFA degree in Screenwriting and an MBA in Marketing. He had a long corporate career during which he worked for such companies as GE, Cognizant and Capital One. Bhaskar is based in Toronto, Canada.
Recently, Bhaskar Chattopadhyay launched his own imprint titled Cipher Books (see logo). It is registered in Canada. The first book to be published under this imprint is The Wings of the Nike (see cover attached), which happens to be the sixth book in the popular Janardan Maity mystery series. So far, he had been published by traditional publishers such as Penguin Random House India, Harper Collins India, Hachette India, Westland Books etc. But the idea of creating his own imprint had been with him for several years now except that he couldn’t get around to doing it. Now that he has, the plan is simple. Ambitious, but doable. In fact, the launch of his first book has proven that he with the first book that has been published in this new model he has “already earned significantly more than what [he] had earned in all the previous books combined through traditional publishing”.
Janardan Maity (without the H) is the Bengali ‘bhodrolok’ detective from Kolkata, although he hates being called a detective. He reads widely, relishes the finer tastes of life – good food, good coffee, music, cinema – and has an unshakable ethic that can sometimes go beyond the law. His dear friend and chronicler is an author named Prakash Ray, who is several years younger than him. Maity is in his early 50’s, Prakash in his early 30’s. The two men travel a lot, and seem to get entangled in baffling mysteries. Sometimes, people come to Maity to ask for his help in solving a ‘case’, Maity agrees to help if the case appeals to his intellect, or if he feels the request for help is genuine. Even Kolkata Police come to him for help in certain complex situations.
He plans to publish all his Maity novels (including the previous five books in the series) under the imprint of Cipher Books. This will include short stories, novellas and plays, all featuring Maity and Prakash. Alongside, he plans to publish translations of Maity novels in Indian and non-Indian languages. The first translation is ready and will be published relatively soon. It is a Hindi translation of his novel The Disappearance of Sally Sequeira, by Dr. Sneha Pathak. Sally has been one of the most popular Maity novels, and it is only fair that it reaches a larger audience. French, Swedish and Korean language translations are planned too, as are books in accessible formats. Working with a team of believers, translators who adored his books and the approached him, is like hitting the jackpot. They will help lift the Maity stories like it has never been done before.
The overall idea is to create an entire ecosystem of stories around these two much-loved characters that readers seem to be waiting so eagerly for — at least that’s what the reviews say. The previous books in the series are (Maity novels can be read in any order, without loss of information):
Penumbra
Here Falls the Shadow
The Disappearance of Sally Sequeira
Best Served Cold
Aperture
The following interview with Bhaskar Chattopadhyay was conducted via email over a few weeks. It was not done in a hurry as there were so many interesting titbits that he was sharing regarding the expansion of the publishing space. The conversation has been lightly edited.
Your enthusiasm for the future of your books is infectious. You are super-excited, as it should be. Nothing else will keep you going through the highs and lows of publishing.
Thanks for the kind words, Jaya. To answer your questions, I am planning to take Maity to various readerships in India, hence the translations. English language readership is but a fraction of all the books read in India, and I would like to take my stories to this vast reader base. Similarly, I want to take Maity global, hence the non-Indian language translations. I now live in a small town in the suburbs of Toronto, which is a pretty cosmopolitan city. Many of my friends, colleagues and neighbours have read my books, and I was quite surprised to discover that the stories seemed to have crossed the boundaries of milieu. Every story has its own milieu. My Maity stories, for instance, are quintessentially Indian. They have been written with the Indian reader in mind. So, I was surprised to find that people from all over the world enjoyed reading these stories. I can only attribute this to two facts: a) the puzzle at the crux of every single one of these stories is an extremely interesting one (baffling, and yet, interesting), and b) the themes I cover in these stories are universal in nature, the themes themselves are not confined to a specific milieu.
Even the nuances of Indian writing didn’t deter them. It was this unexpected discovery that led me to think of this plan. But I also know that my primary readership was, is and will continue to be India. These are Indian stories, and like Satyajit Ray never ever made a film without keeping the Bengali audience in mind (despite being such a global figure), I wouldn’t stop writing stories that are quintessentially Indian.
I will fund the entire project myself. When it comes to recovering costs, the books will pay for themselves, and hopefully gather traction. That’s the goal. Of course, my main profession is teaching cinema, and I will continue to do that, alongside my screenwriting. Now that I have a degree in screenwriting, and now that my first feature film did so well, I have run out of excuses for not writing more and more films!
Why have you been keen to launch your own imprint?
The first and foremost reason was to have better control – editorial, marketing and commercial. For instance, I would want to publish one Janardan Maity adventure every year, but that may not be the publisher’s vision. I wanted to have total control over how and where my book was being marketed. Similarly, I wanted to take Maity stories beyond the novel format – to short stories, novellas, screenplays and even plays. This wouldn’t have been possible with a traditional publisher, as their focus is primarily on novels.
You mention that you have written sixteen books so far, have all the rights reverted to you? Why am I under the impression that you wrote for theatre too?
Out of the sixteen books I have written, there are translations, non-fiction, novelizations, and my original fiction. Among these, I have taken back the rights to only my Janardan Maity series, all other books are with the respective publishers. As for theatre, I have not written a play so far, although I intend to. I did translate a play once — Abhishek Majumdar’s Dweepa.
Which feature film did you write recently? Are the themes of your feature films different to your books?
I wrote Tekka, and it was directed by Srijit Mukherji, who made it in Bengali. It tells the story of a wrongfully fired janitor who takes a little girl hostage in the same office building he was fired from. It is a spiritual sequel to my novel Patang, part of a city trilogy that I have planned. Although the themes of the two stories are different, they are both set in the heart of urban metropolitans, and talk about the cracks and rifts in contemporary city-centric civilization.
When you create a series, do you first develop a series arc or do you work from book to book?
I work book to book, story to story, I don’t have a series arc in mind, I would rather let the stories take the two central characters forward in their lives. Having said that, I did plan to create my series in such a way that the individual books (or stories in other formats) can be read and watched in any order. I did this so as to not have any constraints of following a specific order in order to enjoy the stories.
How will your publishing programme recover its costs? Why are you not keen to explore crowd funding as Brandon Sanderson did? There are so many income generating possibilities now. What is going to be your bouquet offering?
To be honest, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I know I want to do this, because this is the right thing to do, and that’s all the reason I need. I do know that if anything, I won’t lose money. With the first book that has been published in this new model (The Wings of the Nike – the sixth Janardan Maity mystery), I have already earned significantly more than what I had earned in all the previous books combined through traditional publishing. But like I said, it’s not about the money, I just want to have better control over my stories. I want to do what I want with my stories. I have an immense amount of faith in my readers. I know that they will read my stories irrespective of who publishes them – a big brand, or my own tiny brand. It simply won’t matter to them.
Please elaborate on your translation initiatives. It is an incubation and innovative process that sounds utterly fascinating. How will you assess the quality of translation in the destination language if you are unable to understand it?
It’s a simple model, really. Through my friends, I reach out to translators from all over the world. I send them the original and ask them if they’d be interested in translating it. I offer them 50% of all revenues earned. If they agree, I have their translations read and edited by a second person who my friends have vouched for, and who knows the language. Then I publish them and do my marketing. It’s a very simple model; I like to keep things simple.
How did the Hindi translation happen? You commissioned it or was the translator keen to work with you?
The translator reached out to me (many translators do, Hindi, Bengali, Odia, Marathi…) I liked her approach and encouraged her to go ahead. I have a royalty sharing arrangement with my translators. They earn the same amount as I do. All my translators are part of the Cipher family; they literally live and breathe the Maity stories. I would love to have Maity stories translated in several Indian languages.
One of the things I liked was that she came to me with a sample chapter that she had translated. Not only did it make my job easier, she instantly had my attention. I thought that was a very professional thing to do. The other thing I liked about her is that I have known her to be a long-standing diehard fan of the Maity novels. That passion itself is worth its measure of prowess, of which she lacks not one bit. As for the other translators, I am not in a position to talk about those projects at the moment, because we are still in discussion. They are equally passionate too.
Has the first Hindi translation of your book been published? What has been the reception so far?
Not yet, it has been written and is being edited now. The cover has been released; the book will be published by the end of this year. It is titled ‘Ret’ (sand), and is the translation of the third book in the Janardan Maity series – The Disappearance of Sally Sequeira – in which Maity and Prakash have gone to the picturesque little village of Movim in South Goa to spend a few days of rest and recharge, but are soon embroiled in a bizarre mystery: the father of a young girl has received a ransom note asking for a huge sum of money in return of his daughter. But the girl has not been kidnapped at all, and is safe and fine in her home. Since I have deliberately designed the Maity series in such a way that the books can be read in any order without any loss of information, I decided to release the third book first.
The foreign language translations that you mention were brokered by you via email / cold calling or did you travel to specific book fairs?
Mainly through my friends’ network. Since I don’t know the language, I usually look for TWO people who do: one of them translates it, the other reads it and gives me honest feedback. This process takes time, but the translations will be published soon.
Are your publishing initiatives completely human driven or will there be some reliance on AI?
I am not a big fan of AI when it comes to creativity. Artificial Intelligence has still a very long way to go before it can tell interesting stories. So, to answer your question, no, there would be no reliance on AI at all.
How do you propose to create “an entire ecosystem” around the two characters? Is it possible to share some more details?
By that I mean I would like to have the stories told in all kinds of formats — novels, novellas, short stories in print, but also audio books, audio plays, theatre, television and of course — the cinematic format too. In other words, everyone should be able to enjoy the Maity/Prakash stories, they mustn’t remain confined to any single format. Similarly, I would like to do this entire thing in multiple languages — Indian and foreign.
Within weeks of India gaining independence, Kashmir resembled a battlefield because of Pakistan’s repeated incursions to capture the Muslim-dominated princely state. Towering among the soldiers who fought with grit and gumption to foil Pakistan’s designs was Brigadier Mohammed Usman, who chose to remain in pluralist India. Sadly, he lost his life twelve days shy of his thirty-sixth birthday, fighting Pakistani forces. The newly born nation saluted the fearless warrior conferring on him the sobriquet ‘the Lion of Naushera’ for his bravery.
While some heroes have been duly and gratefully feted, others have not always got their due. The Lion of Naushera is an attempt to clear some of the debts we owe to Brigadier Usman. Not only does it tell the story of the brave soldier, it also presents a multifaceted narrative of India – of how people of all faiths, castes and regions fought for the independence of the country and protected its borders.
Ziya Us Salam is an eminent journalist and a widely published author. A literary and social commentator, Salam has examined critical subjects through his books Women in Masjid: A Quest for Justice (Bloomsbury 2019), Nikah Halala: Sleeping with a Stranger (Bloomsbury 2020) and Being Muslim in Hindu India: A Critical View (HarperCollins 2024). His other books include Of Saffron Flags and Skullcaps: Hindutva, Muslim Identity and the Idea of India (Sage 2018), which deals with challenges to the idea of India, and Lynch Files: The Forgotten Saga of Victims of Hate Crime (Sage 2019), which focuses on the victims of hate and violence.
Anand Mishra is currently a political editor. As a senior journalist who has travelled across north India to cover key political developments and elections, tracking the evolution of political parties across the spectrum — left, right and centre — in the national capital and the states in the Hindi speaking belt.
Hailing from Gaya in Bihar, Mishra is an English literature graduate. His poems have been published in national and international publications.
From the earliest human wanderings to the rise of the digital nomad
For hundreds of thousands of years, the ability of Homo sapiens to travel across vast distances and adapt to new environments has been key to their survival as a species. Yet this deep migratory impulse is being tested like never before as governments build ever-stronger walls that adversely impact the lives of migrants and the well-being of our societies.
In The Shortest History of Migration (published by PanMacmillan India), visionary thinker and a migrant himself, Ian Goldin chronicles the movement of peoples that spans every age and continent to arrive at the heart of what truly makes us human. He recounts strange, terrible and uplifting tales of migrants past and present, examining the legacies of empire, slavery and war. Learn about how the first humans originating in Africa populated the world; the exchange of knowledge, food, language and religion through migration, and the exploited migrant populations that built the modern Western world, only to be shut out of it.
Finally, Goldin turns his attention to today’s increasingly fragmented world, bringing together historical evidence and recent data to suggest how we might create a more humane future where we can reap the tremendous benefits that migration has to offer.
Ian Goldin is Professor of Globalisation and Development at the University of Oxford, Fellow at Balliol College, Oxford University, was the founding Director of Oxford University’s Oxford Martin School, and leads its research programmes on Technological and Economic Change, Future of Work and Future of Development.
He has an MSc from the London School of Economics, and a MA and Doctorate from the University of Oxford.
From 1996 to 2001, he was chief executive and managing director of the Development Bank of Southern Africa (DBSA) and at that time also served as an adviser to President Nelson Mandela.
From 2001 to 2006 Ian was Vice President of the World Bank and the Group’s Director of Policy and Special Representative at the United Nations. Previously, Ian served as Principal Economist at the EBRD and the Director of Programmes at the OECD Development Centre.
He has been knighted by the French Government and received numerous awards. He has published over 60 journal articles and 23 books. His most recent is Rescue: From Global Crisis to a Better World. His previous books include Terra Incognita: 100 Maps to Survive the Next 100 Years, Age of Discovery: Navigating the Storms of Our Second Renaissance and The Butterfly Defect: Why Globalization Creates Systemic Risks and What to Do, in which he predicted that a pandemic was the most likely cause of the next financial crisis. Other books include: Development: A Very Short Introduction; and Is the Planet Full? He has authored and presented three BBC Documentary Series After The Crash; Will AI Kill Development? and The Pandemic that Changed the World. He has provided advisory services to the IMF, UN, EU, OECD and has served as a non-executive Director on six globally listed companies. Ian is an acclaimed speaker at TED, Google Zeitgeist, WEF and other meetings and is Chair of the core-econ.org initiative to transform economics.
