Book Review: Hangwoman – A Journey Through Calcutta’s Streets and Shadows

There are books that entertain you, some that educate you, and then there are those rare ones that unsettle you—profoundly, poetically. Hangwoman (originally written in Malayalam as Aarachaar) by K.R. Meera is one such hauntingly powerful novel. Reena suggested this book to me, and I’m so glad she did—it’s a literary experience I won’t forget. I actually experienced the story through the gripping audiobook narration by Benaifer Mirza.

Set primarily in Kolkata (Calcutta), the story follows Chetna Grddha Mullick, the first woman executioner in India, born into a lineage of hangmen. But Hangwoman is not just about death—it’s about life, patriarchy, journalism, love, politics, and identity. Meera’s writing, masterfully translated from Malayalam to English by J. Devika, is lyrical, intense, and immersive. It speaks volumes of the original's power that its essence and layered complexity could travel across languages and still hit hard.

What struck me the most was the vivid narration. Meera has a way of weaving words that transport you. As I read, I could walk through the crowded streets of Kolkata. I could smell the river at the ghats, hear the bells and chaos, taste the sweet graininess of sondesh. The city wasn’t just a backdrop—it was a living, breathing character in the story. I could see it, feel it, and be a part of it. That is the beauty of Meera’s storytelling.

Chetna’s voice—raw, conflicted, and sharp—is unforgettable. The novel explores generational trauma, the complexity of womanhood, and the moral contradictions of justice and media sensationalism. The father-daughter dynamic is particularly gripping, sometimes suffocating, yet heartbreakingly real.

K.R. Meera, a celebrated journalist and author from Kerala, is known for her powerful portrayals of women and for challenging societal norms. Aarachaar, when published in Malayalam, was met with critical acclaim and went on to win multiple awards including the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award. The English translation has made this monumental work accessible to a global audience—and I can see why it stirred so many conversations.

This isn’t an easy read. It demands time and attention—but rewards you with emotional depth, literary brilliance, and a strange, dark beauty that lingers.

Thank you, Reena, for introducing me to a book that not only told me a story but took me on a journey—through a city, through a woman’s mind, and through a nation's conscience.

~ Dawn

Book Review: The Lost Diary of Kastur, My Ba by Tushar Gandhi

When history whispers the truth, it sounds a lot like Kasturba.

It was a quiet February morning earlier this year when I held in my hands an autographed copy of The Lost Diary of Kastur, My Ba by Tushar Gandhi. This wasn’t just any book delivery—it was a long-awaited one. I had been anticipating this read, not only because of its subject but because of what it represents: a voice long unheard, a perspective long overlooked.

My fascination with history began when I was a child. I would often find myself lost in stories of the past, trying to understand the people behind the names—what they felt, how they lived, and what gave them strength. While textbooks scratched the surface, my mind always reached deeper, asking questions that often went unanswered by teachers and syllabi.

One of those questions always revolved around Kasturba Gandhi. We’ve read volumes about Mahatma Gandhi—Bapu, as we know him with affection and reverence—but rarely do we hear about Kasturba, the woman who stood beside him with quiet strength. Who was she beyond the title of “Bapu’s wife”? What were her thoughts, her sacrifices, her role in the movement that reshaped a nation?

Tushar Gandhi’s book answers these questions—not as a historian with a cold lens, but as a grandson honoring a legacy with warmth and clarity.

In The Lost Diary of Kastur, My Ba, we finally get a glimpse into the heart and spirit of a woman who, in many ways, made Bapu who he was. Through imagined diary entries and reflections based on documented material, Tushar Gandhi brings Kasturba’s presence alive—not as a side character, but as a pillar. The book paints a portrait of Kastur not just as a dutiful wife but as a woman of remarkable resolve, resilience, and emotional intelligence. Her quiet strength is evident in every page, every word.

Reading it felt like having a long-overdue conversation. It reaffirmed a belief I’ve always held: that behind every powerful movement, there are countless unsung women whose sacrifices and convictions make the front lines possible. Kasturba was one such rock—steady, often silent, but absolutely unshakable.

This isn’t just a book for those who admire Bapu. It’s for anyone who loves history, who is curious about the intricacies behind India’s freedom struggle, and who yearns to know the human stories hidden between the headlines. It’s a tribute to every woman who stood behind, beside, and sometimes in front of the men we revere.

I deeply appreciate the effort of everyone involved in bringing this book to life—those who sourced the material, those who believed in its value, and Tushar Gandhi himself for choosing to tell it with such authenticity and empathy.

If you, like me, are a curious soul searching for answers that history books often ignore, this is a book you must read.

Highly recommended.

~ Dawn