Books like Rivers Remember — picked by fans

We often grapple with the balance between the traditional and the modern in our lives. There are livelihoods we may perceive as primitive, and yet the products from these livelihoods find everyday use in our lives—palm jaggery to sweeten our desserts, flowers to adorn our hair, grass mats to rest on, wooden instruments that produce music and so many more. In our cocooned city lives, we forget about the millions in the villages engaged in these livelihoods doing “exceptional—yet perfectly ordinary—things to earn a living”.

Nine Rupees an Hour chronicles the struggles and aspirations of these extraordinary men and women. I remember being unable to put the book down. Everything in this book was at once familiar and at the same time unfamiliar. I have known, and used, many of the products described in the book, but how oblivious I had been about the grueling lives of those involved in… show more.

This is a small book. But in its own way, it is rich and detailed when it comes to how profoundly it draws out the relationship between the forest and the Kadars, an indigenous community residing in South India. The authors visiting the forest are researchers from the city, but here in the forest their teachers are the Kadars whose very name means “people of the forest.” With a touch of humour the book, wonderfully illustrated, is an ode to the traditional ecological knowledge, powers of observation, and story-telling skills of the Kadars. The simple activity of walking on a forest path with the Kadars is a revelation of the wealth of knowledge they possess and their relationship with the plants, animals, and even spirits. This is knowledge no ecological textbook can provide, but this knowledge is immeasurable in its value.

I have two pets cats, and my relationship with them is pretty straightforward—I care for them to the point of being obsessive about meeting their every need. Unlike me, the communities described in this book have a range of relationships with the non-human species they share space with. Care of course, and kinship, but also relationships of conflict and violence. Complex themes such as animal ethics, Hindu nationalism, the politics of exclusion, conservation, and even inter-species love are written about against the backdrop of the everyday lives of the villagers. The binary of domestic cow and the wild bear and the pigs that fall in between are all a part of this narrative of the tangled relationship between humans and animals. For those of us who balk at reading anthropological works, this book is a pleasure and easy read for the relatable style of writing.

Who among us has not looked at our published academic paper and felt that tinge of sadness at so much left unsaid? This book is about all that is left unsaid—an entertaining account of the many stories behind the data collected for research that does not make it into our sanitised published papers. Traversing different parts of North India, two young women carrying out conservation research encounter not just nature but also opinionated men, corrupt officials, and a bureaucracy that worked at a frustrating snail’s pace. The accounts in the book are hilarious and relatable to anyone who has done field research, ecological or otherwise in India, where data collection is interspersed with memorable and amusing everyday conversations with a range of people. This is a book I would have loved to write myself. And I hope I still can someday, in my own way.

Who among us as, as kids and not so kids, has not dreamt of running away from home? We all have, let’s be frank. 

But in Zai Whitaker’s Andamans Boy, Arif actually does it. Arif is sick and tired of the oppressive and shabby treatment by his aunt and uncle. He is also tired of life in a major city like Mumbai.

One night, he decides to run away, far far away to the deep south city of Chennai, from where he catches a boat to Andaman Islands. These islands are full of a large tribal population, and he quickly discovers nature of tribal society.

Full of frolic and fun, it also asks the fundamental question: what is development and how do we define the word “civilized”? 

I love how this short story collection traverses time but not location—the setting is the northeastern state of Meghalaya while the stories span 150 years. In these fifteen tales, folklore mixes with modern life and myth is steeped in the mundane. The result? The reader journeys through a rich smorgasbord of a multi-faceted Meghalaya and its people. Given the tendency to clump the seven northeastern states together, this book helps us view one of those states distinctively.

Ruskin Bond is known more for his simple stories about everyday people in the Himalayan foothills (like a North Indian R.K. Narayan). He does throw in the odd story, which seems like a folktale with a surprising ending like A Face in the Night and The Eyes Have It. This livens up the collection more, as you don’t know when you will get one of the unexpected plot twists.

His books ooze with his love for his adopted country, and he writes with such tenderness about young characters that they are wholesome and fulfilling to read.

What I love most about him is that he is one of the most approachable and friendly authors. He spends hours sitting in his hometown’s main bookshop talking with readers and autographing their purchases. 

I was fascinated by this book by William Dalrymple, a Scottish historian who has written widely about the Indian subcontinent.

He explains in intriguing detail how India and Indian civilisation contributed so much to the world—from the religions (like Buddhism and Hinduism) that took root in Cambodia, Sri Lanka, China and Indonesia, from the creation of the numerals that we use today and mistakenly refer to as Arabic numerals, from the exotic goods that flowed out of India and drained the gold of the Roman Empire.

He creates a plausible case for the Indian subcontinent being responsible for transforming the technology and culture of the ancient world,

Reading Dalrymple’s book gave me the insight and confidence to publish my own book, which complements and supplements the stories and ideas discussed in his book.

There are times when we think that we have successfully buried something in our past and it suddenly resurfaces and shocks us. But what if this ‘thing’ wreaks havoc with our lives and turns it topsy turvy? Only the Good Die Young is a taut and gripping sequel to Akash Verma’s thriller, You Never Know. The book unravels beautifully, quite like a web series playing out between the craftily stitched words.