Book Box: In Bengaluru, a walk in the park and books as ideal companions
Dear Reader,
We are a trio as we walk in Cubbon Park. My friend, her college-going daughter and I stroll through raintree, silver oak and bamboo trees flanked by yoga groups doing their asanas on the lawns around us.
The talk turns to college clubs and secret societies. If you are selected, at midnight they come knocking on your dorm door with a tub of ice cream, my friend’s daughter tells us about her initiation to a much sought-after a cappella group. We tell her it’s the stuff of campus novels, and we drink in the details.
What’s a good campus novel? she asks.
“The Secret History,” we say in unison. It’s an incredible story of a professor of Greek and his students. Donna Tart writes so well, it’s spooky and psychologically spot on, we gush.
Campus novels are absorbing reads because they are plump with the possibilities of youthful energy, with a heady mix of idealism and evil, of intrigue and of human passions.
We pass a passel of roller skaters, dozens of dogs and their human walkers.
“Please can we go to the dog park?” my friend’s daughter asks.
We reach in a few minutes. In a large garden, great danes, golden retrievers, poodles and pit bulls mingle with humans. We linger outside, standing by a little grey, brown and white dog on a leash, below a piece of paper, pinned to the fence, with the words ‘Indie for Adoption, Masha’.
My friend’s daughter looks at Masha. I recognise the look of longing on her face. It’s the same look I see on my daughter’s faces when they stop to pet dogs everywhere — the universal longing for animal companions.
The magic of such camaraderie is captured movingly in The Friend, a novel that catapulted writer Sigrid Nunez to instant fame. The narrator in the book is a writer based in New York, who is not a dog lover, who is, in fact, a cat person. But she ends up having to adopt a great dane, who belonged to her friend who died by suicide. The book tells the story of the writer and the great dane — and of life, love, grief and healing.
It’s time to head to Go Native, where we will breakfast on Mysore buns and Guntur idlis. On my next trip to Bengaluru, I plan to come back to the State Central Library, and perhaps even ride along with one of the mobile libraries, parked by the side of the road. Maybe on a Saturday, where groups of readers bring their books to sit in the park and read in Cubbon Reads.
After breakfast, I call the next stop. Tea at the Champaca bookstore. There’s a book I want to buy you, I tell my friend.
When we reach the bookstore, located at the end of a quiet, tree-lined lane, it’s buzzing inside. The tables are all taken, and they don’t have the book I want to buy, a family saga that has kept me up most of the night, glued to my Kindle. But we stay and browse anyway. The book selection is carefully curated, it’s a great place to discover little known gems.
A few minutes later, that’s exactly what happens. I find Kindred by Octavia Butler, a book, whose paper copy I have been looking for. This is the perfect gift for my friend. She doesn’t read sci-fi, yet I feel sure she will love this time travel tale.
It’s the story of a young Black woman who travels back in time to when slavery existed.
“It’s just so clever how author uses time travel as a device to show, how living in a system can change the way your mind works, and you see here what it can do to the psychology of a modern African American woman,” I tell her and of course she is intrigued and hooked, already flipping the pages, as we pack up our books and head home.
Next week, I move from Bengaluru to Mumbai, to books on banking; books for finance people and for everyone else — written by journalists and bankers — that answer a most intriguing question: what are the real stories behind all those headlines ?
Until next week, happy reading!
Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya’s Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. The views expressed are personal.
Enjoy unlimited digital access with HT Premium
Subscribe Now to continue reading
Dear Reader,
We are a trio as we walk in Cubbon Park. My friend, her college-going daughter and I stroll through raintree, silver oak and bamboo trees flanked by yoga groups doing their asanas on the lawns around us.
The talk turns to college clubs and secret societies. If you are selected, at midnight they come knocking on your dorm door with a tub of ice cream, my friend’s daughter tells us about her initiation to a much sought-after a cappella group. We tell her it’s the stuff of campus novels, and we drink in the details.
What’s a good campus novel? she asks.
“The Secret History,” we say in unison. It’s an incredible story of a professor of Greek and his students. Donna Tart writes so well, it’s spooky and psychologically spot on, we gush.
Campus novels are absorbing reads because they are plump with the possibilities of youthful energy, with a heady mix of idealism and evil, of intrigue and of human passions.
We pass a passel of roller skaters, dozens of dogs and their human walkers.
“Please can we go to the dog park?” my friend’s daughter asks.
We reach in a few minutes. In a large garden, great danes, golden retrievers, poodles and pit bulls mingle with humans. We linger outside, standing by a little grey, brown and white dog on a leash, below a piece of paper, pinned to the fence, with the words ‘Indie for Adoption, Masha’.
My friend’s daughter looks at Masha. I recognise the look of longing on her face. It’s the same look I see on my daughter’s faces when they stop to pet dogs everywhere — the universal longing for animal companions.
The magic of such camaraderie is captured movingly in The Friend, a novel that catapulted writer Sigrid Nunez to instant fame. The narrator in the book is a writer based in New York, who is not a dog lover, who is, in fact, a cat person. But she ends up having to adopt a great dane, who belonged to her friend who died by suicide. The book tells the story of the writer and the great dane — and of life, love, grief and healing.
It’s time to head to Go Native, where we will breakfast on Mysore buns and Guntur idlis. On my next trip to Bengaluru, I plan to come back to the State Central Library, and perhaps even ride along with one of the mobile libraries, parked by the side of the road. Maybe on a Saturday, where groups of readers bring their books to sit in the park and read in Cubbon Reads.
After breakfast, I call the next stop. Tea at the Champaca bookstore. There’s a book I want to buy you, I tell my friend.
When we reach the bookstore, located at the end of a quiet, tree-lined lane, it’s buzzing inside. The tables are all taken, and they don’t have the book I want to buy, a family saga that has kept me up most of the night, glued to my Kindle. But we stay and browse anyway. The book selection is carefully curated, it’s a great place to discover little known gems.
A few minutes later, that’s exactly what happens. I find Kindred by Octavia Butler, a book, whose paper copy I have been looking for. This is the perfect gift for my friend. She doesn’t read sci-fi, yet I feel sure she will love this time travel tale.
It’s the story of a young Black woman who travels back in time to when slavery existed.
“It’s just so clever how author uses time travel as a device to show, how living in a system can change the way your mind works, and you see here what it can do to the psychology of a modern African American woman,” I tell her and of course she is intrigued and hooked, already flipping the pages, as we pack up our books and head home.
Next week, I move from Bengaluru to Mumbai, to books on banking; books for finance people and for everyone else — written by journalists and bankers — that answer a most intriguing question: what are the real stories behind all those headlines ?
Until next week, happy reading!
Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya’s Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. The views expressed are personal.
Enjoy unlimited digital access with HT Premium
Subscribe Now to continue reading
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