Those who know me personally are well aware of my love for fiction—and how I intentionally avoid reading non-fiction like it’s a mission, unless it arrives as a gift. Well, such a book found me last month.

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Last winter, my husband came home with a bag of goodies and a book. At the sight of a new read, I was thrilled— until I realized it was non-fiction, specifically about women and being a “badass.” To be honest, I really dislike people telling women what to do, especially when it comes to navigating the corporate ladder or life in general. So, I let it sit.

For half a year, I let it stare at me from my prized TBR pile. Then, around June, I decided it was time to clear the books I already own— mostly to justify buying more. Initially, I picked it up just to plow through it for the sake of reading it, because I can’t lie to myself about finishing a book.

BUT THE BOOK JUST CLICKED.

To my absolute surprise, I flew through the entire thing in two days and loved every bit of it. I’ve already recommended it to a few friends and even annotated it (!!!). What I loved most was that it didn’t come with a rigid “how-to” manual; it simply was. Reading it felt like sitting down with a close friend, without the pressure to say anything at all.

I’m not here to give you a formal review. I’m just here to tell you that regardless of your gender, you should read this book. It will be entirely worth your time.

Sharing a few of my favorite pages below.

Happy reading,

The air up here is thin and sharp, the snow-capped peaks behind me standing as silent, indifferent giants. Holding Mayur Kalbag’s Aghori: An Untold Story against this pristine daylight felt ironic, yet entirely right. Both the Himalayas and the Aghoris share a fierce, uncompromising quiet that forces you inward.

To most, the word Aghori conjures unsettling images of ash-smeared ascetics and cremation grounds—things we recoil from out of fear of our own mortality. But Kalbag’s book isn’t a horror story; it is a spiritual bridge disguised as fiction. Through a protagonist guided by a powerful guru, the narrative unfolds the philosophy of absolute non-duality, a world where the rigid boundaries between pure and impure, beautiful and ugly, simply dissolve. The rituals we find bizarre are reframed as a deliberate, violent shattering of the human ego.

While the story occasionally slows under the weight of its own philosophical discourses, the atmospheric prose keeps it deeply immersive. Ultimately, Aghori is an uncomfortable mirror held up to our fragile ideas of morality, challenging us to look past surface shock value and realize that light and darkness are born from the very same source.

Will be back with my Reading collection from July.

June has been a month of incredible journeys— from the vast, quiet expanse of outer space to the rich, rain-soaked soil of Kerala. I spent the last few weeks moving between gripping thrillers, deeply comforting memoirs, and grounded health guides.

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Here is a short look into my bookshelf this month, and exactly what I thought of each read:

The Covenant of Water – Abraham Verghese (MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE FROM THE LIST)

If you only pick up one book from this list, let it be this one. The Covenant of Water was, without a doubt, my absolute favorite read of June. Spanning three generations in Kerala, it is a magnificent, sprawling epic about family, medical secrets, and deep love. Verghese’s writing is so rich and luminous that I felt completely immersed in the landscape and the lives of the characters. It is a thick book (780 pages), but every single page felt like a rare gift. It completely captured my heart.

The Rest of My June Reads:

Orbital – Samantha Harvey

This Booker Prize-winning novella is compact but incredibly grand in its scope. It follows six astronauts circling Earth over a single day. There isn't a fast-paced plot, but the poetic, lyrical descriptions of our planet from above are breathtaking. It makes you feel incredibly small yet profoundly connected to everything below. It’s a quiet, beautiful meditation on nature and humanity.

The Chestnut Man – Søren Sveistrup

When I needed a complete shift in pace, this gritty Nordic noir delivered perfectly. It's a dark, fast-paced thriller about a serial killer who leaves tiny dolls made of chestnuts at crime scenes. It is tense, atmospheric, and kept me guessing until the very last page. If you love a complex, chilling mystery that keeps you turning pages late into the night, you will love this.

There is also a Netflix series based on the book, with same title.

Reasons to Stay Alive – Matt Haig

A deeply moving and comforting book. Matt Haig shares his personal journey with depression and anxiety with absolute honesty. It doesn't read like a heavy clinical manual; instead, it feels like a warm, gentle conversation with a close friend who truly understands the darkness but reminds you where to find the light. It's a beautiful book to keep nearby for days when the world feels a bit too heavy.

Foods that Heal: The Natural Way to Good Health – H.K. Bakhru

I also spent some time dipping into this practical guide to natural wellness. I found this book in a new cafe that I discovered recently (they have the best pesto chicken sandwich). It focuses entirely on the healing properties of everyday natural foods—fruits, vegetables, grains, and herbs. I loved how simple, accessible, and grounded it is, offering timeless wisdom on using nature's bounty to nourish and care for our bodies from the inside out.

What have you been reading lately? I’d love to hear what kept you company this month.

Warmly,

In Jennie Godfrey’s debut, the fog of 1970s Yorkshire is thick with more than just industrial smoke—it’s heavy with the shadow of the Yorkshire Ripper. Against this grim backdrop, we meet Miv, a young girl watching her world fracture. Her mother has retreated into a silent, ghost-like existence, and her father is desperate to move the family away from the danger. Driven by a child’s logic that solving the “big scary thing” will fix the “small broken things” at home, Miv and her best friend Sharon begin The List of Suspicious Things.

The book is a masterclass in atmosphere, capturing that specific, itchy tension of a community looking over its shoulder. As the girls track the habits of neighbors and strangers alike, the story subtly shifts from a mystery into a deep exploration of prejudice and the loss of innocence. Miv’s list becomes a mirror reflecting the biases of the adults around her, proving that the things we fear say more about us than the people we’re watching.

It’s a poignant, often witty, but ultimately sobering look at how fear can distort the truth. Miv eventually learns the hard way that life isn’t a tidy detective novel, and that looking for a monster can make you blind to the people right in front of you. As the quote goes:

“We were looking for a wolf, but we were the ones who ended up biting.”

This is a story for anyone who remembers what it was like to realize that the adults don’t have all the answers—and that the world is much more complicated than a simple list of “good” and “bad.”

P.S: This was a Pintrest recommendation.

I was captivated by Alice’s use of the landscape. The isolation isn’t just physical; it’s psychological. Adam Wright’s prosopagnosia (face blindness) serves as the ultimate literary device for the- Art of the Unseen. While some readers have debated the medical accuracy of his people blindness, from a writer’s perspective, it is a brilliant metaphor for the invisibility Amelia feels. It poses the terrifying question: do we ever truly recognize the person we’ve promised our lives to?

I found myself hooked from the very first chapter, drawn in by the dark tone glistening just along the surface. The clever plotting is where the actual magic lies. The anniversary letters—nested between chapters like secrets in a drawer—create a rhythmic tension that I found perfectly paced. They offer a smart and well-written look at ten years of building a life on foundations that might be made of sand.

I loved this book because it understands that the most jaw-dropping plot twists aren’t found in the external world, but in the shifts of the human heart. It is absolutely WILD, yes, but it is also a quiet, chilling reminder of the roles we play and the masks we wear.

If you enjoy creepy houses, hidden secrets, and marital strife, you must step into Blackwater Chapel. Just be prepared: like a game of Rock Paper Scissors, someone always has to lose.

Until next time,