A multigenerational story spanning decades, this novel follows a Malayali family through love, loss, and resilience. As a Malayali myself, I’m naturally drawn to such stories, so this book had been on my radar for quite some time before I finally picked it up.
Nalini grows up in a village with her mother, after her father abandons the family during her childhood. The two of them share a close bond and are renowned in their community for their exceptional cooking. Her mother, in particular, stands out as a deeply generous and principled woman—someone who not only imparts valuable life lessons but truly lives by them. When Nalini falls in love with a wealthy man and decides to run away with him, her mother, despite her reservations, never stands in her way. I found this restraint and quiet strength remarkable.
Nalini goes on to have two children, Maya and Satchin, with her husband. While he appears loving and attentive when present, he is often away, and there’s an undercurrent of control in his personality that becomes more evident over time. For a brief period, Nalini’s mother joins them while they are in Mumbai, but her husband soon relocates the family to London, effectively separating Nalini from her again. The children initially struggle with the move but eventually adjust, remaining especially fond of their father—largely because he conceals his harsher side from them.
In a painful repetition of history, he eventually leaves the family. What follows forms the heart of the story: Nalini’s journey of picking up the shattered pieces of her life and staying strong for her children. At this crucial juncture, Tom and Maggie enter their lives like guardian angels, offering support and stability. Ravi, too, becomes an important presence, bringing Nalini a sense of peace and happiness she had long thought impossible.
Interestingly, the men in the story are not given much depth or significance. Even the positive male characters, like Satchin and Tom, are not explored in detail. Instead, the narrative focuses primarily on Maya and her journey of survival and self-understanding.
That said, I found Maya’s character extremely frustrating. Even as she grows older and gains the maturity to understand her parents’ perspectives, she takes far too long to extend them any empathy or grace. This made it difficult for me to connect with her.
Another aspect I struggled with was the book’s connection to Malayalam culture. Beyond the occasional use of words like Mon, Mol, Makkale, Achan, Amma, and Ammamma, the story doesn’t feel particularly rooted in Kerala or Malayali identity. The repeated references to Onam, in particular, felt excessive and somewhat unnecessary—I found myself skimming those sections after a point. There’s also a factual inconsistency: Mahabali was the asura king, and it was Indra, the deva king, who grew insecure and sought Vishnu’s help. I couldn’t quite understand why Onam was emphasized so heavily throughout the narrative.
Despite these issues, I appreciated Nalini’s character arc the most. Like a phoenix, she rises again and again in the face of adversity, embodying resilience and quiet strength. Her journey is, without a doubt, the most compelling part of the book.