It is one of the most moving books that I’ve ever read, and, trust me, I’ve read my (and a few other people’s) share of profound and heavy books in the last 3 decades of reading. 

The sheer poignancy and emotional weight of this story prevents me (and, rightly) from describing it as a mere ‘interesting’, or ‘mysterious’ or ‘thrilling’ work, like many have done. It would be unfair, inappropriate and graceless if I use such expressions for a book of this kind. 

I couldn’t put this book down, yes, and read it in a mad frenzy of indignation and outrage spanning 3 days, wishing, all through this exercise, that what the book talks about never happened. Frankly, the moral discomfort arose because I didn’t want to be confronted with the shattered and dirty mirror that it holds up to all of us. The mirror of a society so morally bankrupt, twisted and evil that it would stop at nothing and feed on its own young – so blatantly and without any compunction. It also speaks of the world we’ve created. A world so dangerous and inhospitable for the young. But then, I’m reminded, the same world created people like the Author (and a few other people of substance in the book), whose role embodies great grace, compassion and empathy and merits commendation of the highest kind, and commendation not just for a tale well told (which it undoubtedly is) but the compassion shown. 

Please read this. If, for nothing else, then, as a sad and sordid account and reminder of what we’ve become. 

You’d certainly hate what you see. 

But that, my friend, is the point. 

Let this be axe to a frozen mind and heart, as all good books are (Kafka).