The Legend of the Genghis Khan, published by Readomania, as the title obviously suggests, is the story of the world's most fearsome conqueror-one who I had only briefly read about in history books. This book, however, is not sketchy, but in fact, a well-researched and in-depth story about what made him the great emperor of Mongol. The book takes off to a gruesome start (consider this an advance warning so you can brace yourself, but let it not deter you from reading it), taking the reader right in the thick of an ongoing siege, and even as the bloodshed takes places between the pages the narration is such that it keeps you hooked, unable to do much else except cringe and read on. This sentiment and the taut pace continues throughout the book, making it an extremely engrossing read, especially when it comes to describing a world long gone, and yet, one that exists all around us. It makes one pause and ponder whether we've really evolved as a species or are we as barbaric as the Khan even today.

Indian Railways is the largest single-entity employer in India, and the eight largest in the world. This is a fascinating fun fact for those not familiar with the length and breadth of the railway tracks in the country. For those of us who have actually spent most of our summer vacations travelling across that length and breadth it would probably be evidentiary–and we would probably react with a knowing ‘Obviously!’

When I first got to know that my fellow author in Mock, Stalk and Quarrel was coming out with a full-fledged novel I was obviously thrilled for her. What added even more to the charm of the book was that it had initially been a short story which was later expanded to a novel. When I got to know that, not only was I stumped, I was also reminded of my own experience of writing a novel and expanding it from an earlier shorter version. It's not easy, I thought to myself. And full kudos to Anupama Jain for doing it, and doing it successfully. Knowing well her brand of humour, and being familiar with her impactful satirical writing, when I started reading, a smile invariably made its way across my face in anticipation. And the opening sentences kept that smile intact.

I have a childhood connection to cycling. It’s not something I consider to be just a sport. It’s a reward. It’s not exercise, it’s fun. And, now as an adult, every time someone mentions cycling, it brings back some very fond memories of my childhood. My affair with cycling began in the fourth standard when after topping the Math exam, I was rewarded with a bicycle. It was love at first ride. The red gleaming body, the sleek handlebars, the eight-tune bell – from a screaming police siren to the melodious tune of a bird’s chirping – which I would ring endlessly, the gigantic wheels, and that seat which, to me, was no less than a throne. I often spent many long hours in its company – riding it, humming songs to it, narrating the events at school, imagining quite a few stories in my head too. WhatsApp Image 2018-01-04 at 5.55.36 PM When I got to know about this book about a cycling expedition to Kailash Manasarovar, that too from a cycle's perspective, I knew right away that I just had to read it. In all my conversations with my cycle, its responses had always been ones which I imagined and credited to it. Now I’d finally get to know what a cycle would say if it could speak. And so, with much thrill and expectations, I picked up the book Kailash Mansarovar, published by Readomania.

I received the book Mornings in Jenin by Susan Abulhawa (along with another book by the same author- The Blue Between Sky and Water) as a birthday gift from Kirthi Jayakumar, author of The Doodler of Dimashq. Because I had loved The Doodler of Dimashq, Kirthi thought I may enjoy this book too. Mornings In Jenin Thank you, Kirthi, for this wonderful gift. I am so glad I got to read this tragic yet beautiful book.