Blasphear: A Novel

by Sohail Rauf

When sub-inspector Waqas Mahmood is assigned the case of a suicide of a seventeen-year-old boy, he is tempted to do the bare minimum and close the case. Waqas has been disenchanted with the police force and wants to quit anyway. And the ominous presence of a religious outfit around the boy’s house is another reason to stay away. It's also just too hot in Shantinagar, a dusty town in Punjab, Pakistan.

But Waqas realizes there’s more to the case when the boy’s friend reaches out claiming that it was no suicide. In fact, it might be linked to another terrifying case in Shantinagar when a Hindu art teacher was lynched on the accusation of blasphemy against Islam.

Waqas is intrigued as memories of a horror episode from his childhood return to haunt him. From witnesses’ statements, he pieces together accounts of friendships that transcended religions before they were ruined by betrayal, conspiracy, and religious fanaticism. Will Waqas succumb to the terror of religious bigots, or will he uphold justice in a society which badly needs it?

320 pages, Kindle Edition

Published May 31, 2024

Reviews

[Saba · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blasphear by Sohail Rauf is a contemplative novel that delves into the dark intersections of blasphemy, religion and justice in Pakistan. The novel is narrated from multiple perspectives, including Waqas', Hasan’s friend Furqan and his sister Lubna, providing a multi-layered view of societal dynamics.

The novel depicts a true picture of Pakistani society showing characters that live in a society where being accused of blasphemy can ruin lives. The case of Hasan’s death, initially framed as suicide, quickly spirals into a larger commentary on how blasphemy accusations can be weaponized by both mobs and political organizations to control narratives, highlighting the serious impact these laws have on the community.

Waqas, the main character, faces strong opposition while investigating Hasan's death, with both the police and religious groups trying to cover up the case. This reflects real-life issues in Pakistan, where authorities often fail to resist religious pressure, leaving victims of mob violence and false blasphemy accusations without justice. The investigation not only brings Waqas face-to-face with his own traumatic past—his father's lynching—but also exposes the grip of religious fundamentalism in the region.

Although Rauf occasionally leans into gender stereotypes when depicting female characters, Lubna’s fight for intellectual and personal freedom emphasizes the novel’s feminist theme by challenging the restrictions placed on women in conservative societies.

All in all, the novel is truly eye-opening and prompts a deeper reflection on the need for empathy, tolerance, and self-awareness. Ultimately, the ending is justified within the thematic framework of the novel, emphasizing the difficulty of confronting institutionalized injustice and the personal cost of standing against it.

[Tanaya Pandey (kitabiyatri) · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5

[Nigham · Rating 5 out of 5]

Blasphear (blasphemy and fear), started off as a good read but quickly transformed into something deeply captivating. With each chapter, the story became more layered and thought-provoking. I was genuinely surprised by how well the author handled a complex theme like blasphemy while keeping the narrative engaging. The writing was rich in detail, and the way the author brought certain emotions and cultural moments to life was truly impressive.

The references to different poets were not only lyrical but also carried emotional weight. They added a soulful rhythm to the story and beautifully connected the narrative to a broader literary and cultural heritage. These moments didn’t feel forced—they felt natural, and they’re going to stay with me for a long, long time.

As someone who identifies with Pakistani culture, I felt a strong pull of nostalgia throughout the book. The inclusion of familiar traditions, values, and stories made me feel seen—it was like revisiting home through someone else’s journey. It brought back memories of my own time in a Christian school where Muslims were the majority. Coexisting with other communities never felt wrong to me—but people around me, through their judgments and fatwas , created boundaries I had never noticed before.

I still remember a simple poem we used to recite in the school assembly:

Dear God, hear our prayer
Keep us in Thy loving care
Guard us through the night and day,
And guide us in every way...

I could never figure out what was “wrong” with this poem. If my God is Allah, and I’m asking Him for care and guidance, then what exactly makes it a non-Muslim prayer? And how exactly is it making me follow Christianity? That lingering question has stayed with me ever since—and Blasphear gave me the space to reflect on it again.

"Bara hai dard ka rishta, yeh dil ghareeb sahi"
[Though this heart is fragile, the bond of pain is strong.]

What made this book even more impactful for me was the way it addressed the issue of blasphemy—not just as a fictional theme, but as a painful, real-world reality. It happens in ways far more horrifying than we like to admit. People manipulate religion, quoting the Quran or invoking Islam only when it benefits them. We've made Islam flexible to our needs while ignoring its core values of peace, justice, and compassion. People have made Islam difficult—heavy with judgment and fear—when its essence is light and mercy.

لَا إِكْرَاهَ فِي الدِّينِ ۖ قَد تَّبَيَّنَ الرُّشْدُ مِنَ الْغَيِّ
"There is no compulsion in religion. The right path has become distinct from the wrong."
— Surah Al-Baqarah (2:256)

This verse reinforces the core Islamic principle that faith is a matter of the heart and personal conviction, not force. Islam honors the dignity and agency of every individual.

This is one of the few books I’ve read that dares to tackle this subject head-on. I’ve read many Pakistani authors, but this particular approach felt new, raw, and necessary. Islam, at its heart, is a peaceful religion—it does not endorse violence. It even lays out ethical guidelines for war. When a religion forbids the cutting of fruit trees during war, how can we justify cruelty in its name? If Islam protects the life of a tree, how can it be used to violate the dignity of a human being?

One quote from the book struck me deeply:

“Love is like faith, don’t you think?
I mean, no one should try to guess it.
It’s proclaimed, else it remains between the individual and Allah.”

But that’s the problem with people—they make everything their own issue. They take it upon themselves to "fix" society without understanding where their boundaries lie. What’s between God and a person should stay between them. Assuming the worst about someone without proof is a sin. And yet, when people meddle in what isn’t theirs, where does that sin go? Why is that overlooked?

Blasphear is not just a novel—it’s a mirror. It reflects our societal struggles and quietly challenges us to ask: Where do we stand? What truths are we ignoring? I’m deeply grateful I had the opportunity to read it. It’s a story, yes—but more than that, it’s a conversation we all need to have.

Ever since I finished the book, I can’t stop thinking about how much potential it has to be developed into a film or series—something that reaches wider audiences and brings this urgent issue to light. It’s one of those rare books that stays with you long after the last page. I keep writing about it, reflecting on it, wanting to say more—but I guess I have to end here. For now...

[Mukta · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read Blasphear (Blasphemy+Fear) by Suhail Rauf in two sittings. The time between the sittings when I slept and woke in the morning, I was in the place Sohail had meticulously created. This is a cleverly crafted, beautifully written book by a sensitive man. Much like Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner transported readers to Afghanistan, Suhail Rauf’s Blasphear immerses you in the heart of Pakistan.
The story begins with Sub-inspector Waqas, who is assigned his first case in a new posting: the suicide of a teenage boy. Waqas, suspecting foul play, believes it to be a murder and soon discovers connections to an earlier killing of the boy’s close friend, a Hindu art teacher. Thus unfolds a captivating narrative told through three distinct voices, each opposing the forces of hate. The author skillfully uses these perspectives to weave backstories and side stories into the intricate, layered plot, driving the narrative forward to a gripping climax at the midpoint of the book.
I was charmed by a place where horses and tongawallahs still ply their trade. I loved the delightful chemistry between Waqas and his ex – a boisterous media personality. I was totally enchanted by the cute and steamy snatches of Waqas’ conjugal life. The author has a way of bringing electricity into these interactions. And, of course, the frequent use of shayari by the protagonist, each couplet delivered during moments of introspection or to neatly conclude an argument, firmly roots the story in Pakistani culture.
Great stories often emerge from irrational milieus, and Blasphear is no exception. We find ourselves in a setting where dogma reigns supreme, freedom is curtailed, and blasphemy laws tighten their grip, further stifling any semblance of liberty. There is certainly not much love for the Hindus in this environment. Even the good guys eye them suspiciously. The author has found a smart device while describing the Hindu physique, habitation, and body language. In quick, smart sweeps, he makes appropriate depictions of the endemic racism against the Hindu in Pakistan.
The storytelling in Blasphear is masterful. The subject matter is gritty, but Suhail Rauf vividly paints a picture that is both compelling and thought-provoking. Readers are left questioning how a society can possibly emerge intact from the mire of hate in which it is entrenched. This dynamic of division and hate is, to some extent, present in many countries – if not all - today, but the setting in Blasphear is particularly troubling.

Waqas addresses this issue poignantly in the final paragraph of the novel:
“Initially, everywhere we look we see no one who can help us. We think we are too few, too far from anyone like us. That we will sink or will remain distant and will be eaten by sharks. We don’t know that there are many more like us, although they are just beneath the surface. Those who are afraid to be visible. We must reach out to each other and all others, and soon there’ll be more and more of us who’ll be willing to connect. And our connection will be through books and arts and literature. If we don’t, as time passes, there’ll be fewer and fewer of us, increasingly scared to speak out or reach out.”
This powerful passage underscores the novel's central theme: the need for connection and the transformative power of art and literature. Blasphear is a remarkable work that not only tells a compelling story but also offers a profound commentary on the societal divisions and the hope for unity through shared cultural experiences, making it a must-read.

[Zahra Syeda · Rating 4 out of 5]

If I wrote down every thought this book sparked, it would turn into an essay. I won’t, because not all of them directly relate to the story—though it’s the book itself that inspired them.

The strength of this book, for me, lies in its courage to present ideas that are often considered too controversial to discuss openly. I love books that make me think, whether or not I agree with the beliefs they present. For that reason alone, Blasphear by Sohail Rauf was worth my time.

I first truly understand the horror of mob violence through dramas like Tan Man Neel o Neel and Mann Jogi. That was the first time I really grasped how a mob is like a sea—it takes you whole, and you can do nothing about it.

Growing up in Karachi in the early 2000s, news about sectarian conflicts was routine, even though the roots weren’t just “sectarian beliefs” (something I didn’t understand back then). Owing to having grown up in those times, I once dreamt I was riding my school van, and one day, when my van-mates found out my sect, they shot me and threw me onto the street. It's wild to have dreamt that. But for me, it was just a dream. For Mashal Khan, for that Hindu man in the news, and for many others, it was a lived reality.

And extremism, I’ve come to see, has nothing to do with the love for the religion or religious figures, It’s about power—and the fear that power thrives on.

The book captures this suffocation well. Its imagery is evocative, makes you feel trapped, disgusted, like there’s no room left to breathe or live. There’s no beating around the bush either; the story starts immediately and unapologetically.

The writing itself is simple. Sometimes, the dialogue feels stiff or unnatural, but to criticise that too much would be uncharitable given how impactful the story is. I especially loved the intellectual relationship between Lubna and Mohan, who were communicating through a certain book to exchange ideas. Honestly, I’d love to do something like that myself.

Part of the problem, I think, is that religion isn’t discussed intellectually in our educational institutions, which breeds intolerance. Instead, space is handed over to student wings of religious groups. People don’t want to listen to opposing ideas because they’re “too bold,” but because they themselves feel insecure in their faith. They don’t have answers. And instead of doing the research, questioning, doubting, and really seeking truth, most people cling to what they already believe. That’s not conviction that’s fear. Fear of being wrong. But it's okay to be wrong, as long as you leave space to be right, you know?

And so I wonder: are the people who become part of these mobs reading books like this or watching these dramas? Are they being educated? Because if they’re not, then nothing will ever change.

[Muhammad Samejo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sohail Rauf’s debut novel does not pull any punches: this book is an unnerving experience that hits hard, especially for readers in Pakistan. Set mainly in Punjab, the story follows Sub-Inspector Waqas Mehmood as he becomes heavily invested in a suicide case of a young man that is more than it seems. The pieces slowly fall into place as the investigation takes Mehmood into the murky depths of Pakistani society, particularly its infamous and brutal blasphemy law that has seen more violence unleashed than anyone could have possibly imagined, breeding intolerance among communities that had already been cautious about each other. Anyone well-meaning enough to use reason to diffuse tension and make sense out of simple misunderstandings stands little to no chance against a mob fueled by uncompromising religious fanaticism, and that is on full display as the central characters have had their lives dictated by the fallout of this law.

More than that, the story also takes a peek into what a tolerant Pakistani society was like, with some small glimmers hiding in the shadows, fading slowly into darkness as they see how the world around them continues to descend into chaos and despair. It looks at the people who had once lived in a time where knowledge, art, inquisitiveness, and friendship were valued above all else, and their sad reality now as they are people out of time. The story also looks deeper into the way various entities, including political parties, religious organizations, campus societies, law enforcement agencies, and more operate, not to mention their approach toward safeguarding the life and liberty of the people, which depends entirely on how prudent and convenient it is. Even though at times the optimism made me shake my head and automatically think it would never fly in real life, perhaps that was what the author intended: for us to have some hope rather than to curse the darkness.

The writing here is top-notch, and the characters are thoroughly fleshed out. At times, I had entirely different ideas about certain characters and their motivation, but the author skillfully reveals their inner thoughts and feelings, while engaging them in superb dialogue that makes it feel as if the reader is with the characters in the various settings. The pacing moves along superbly from the meticulousness of the investigation to the urgency of the action sequences.

Overall, a well-written and engaging book, one that aims to highlight an important but often hushed-up topic. Let’s hope it sparks a well-meaning and thought-provoking debate that can help make sense of our turbulent history. 

[Mahmood Ahmad · Rating 3 out of 5]

Suhail Rauf’s book is not a novel. It’s a statement. A daring, important and timely statement against the injustices perpetrated on people in the name of religion and is highly relevant in our times.

A must-read for those who want to understand how young minds are corrupted and then used for ulterior motives.

I specially liked the first person narrative of more than one characters which makes for a better understanding of events from their pov.

There are a generous amount of references to Pakistani poets and their poetry which might put off some readers including myself. However for some others it might be an added source of enjoyment.

There are some errors of logic or inconsistencies here and there but they are all minor and can be ignored if one focuses on the bigger picture.

Finally, the novel’s length makes for a relatively quick read - I finished it in 4 days!

3.5 stars

[Silverwing · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blasphear is definitely a piece of work that deserves to be read by many. The pace of the book is slow initially but it soon takes up speed. Our protagonist Waqas (though a bit questionable when it comes to his Romantic interests) is a strong willed, no nonsense policeman who always seems to be in control of the situations that he is put in. The other characters especially those of Amber, Furqan and Lubna stand out and are interesting in their own right.

After understanding the subject matter of the book which is Blasphemy, Lynchings and religious extremism I expected to get a novel that discussed in depth the functioning of religious parties, Islamic philosophy and it's critique and empathy towards victims of Pakistan's blasphemy laws. Most of these topics were briefly touched upon but I would have preferred an in-depth worldview instead of just a swift investigative thriller. Nonetheless the book is definitely recommended.

P. S the poetry references add up to the story and do not feel forced.

[Aditya Banerjee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sohail Rauf has done a wonderful job of dealing with a difficult subject. Blasphear starts as an intriguing mystery but the multi-dimensional story touches upon friendship, religion, and humanity. It is heartening to see how the author has dealt with these subjects and the meaning of justice. The main protagonist, a police officer investigating the gruesome case, is flawed yet relentlessly seeks the truth. The storytelling is vivid and some of the world-building leaves readers transported to a different place and time. Kudos to the author for a marvelous, thoughtful, and endearing story.

[Renu r singh · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 and a half stars

[Yash Sharma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Blasphear, A Novel by Sohail Rauf tells us about blasphemy and the infamous blasphemy laws of Pakistan, especially its misuse against the minorities. It's a story where a Hindu boy, Mohan, was first killed by the mob because they accused him of doing blasphemy. And within a few months of Mohan's death, a Muslim boy, Hasan, got killed by religious extremists. The people who were behind both of these killings were none other than religious bigots who don't like people who question anything related to their faith. Because they want total submission in front of them. That's why both Mohan and Hasan lost their lives. This tale shows the danger of religious extremism that people spread in the name of faith. The author of this book has done a good job by writing about blasphemy, blasphemy laws and its repercussions.

[Saqib · Rating 5 out of 5]

Because the setting of the book and its subject matter is so close to my heart, I am not sure that I can claim to bring whatever level of objectivity a critic is supposed to bring to the matter of reviewing art. I grew up in Lahore and saw its regression, along with the rest of the country, towards religious zealotary and intolerance with growing feelings of helplessness and sadness. Sohail's depiction of the people - the policemen, the students, the mullahs; and the physical spaces - middle class neighborhoods, schools, policestations, seedy computer repair shops were drew me in with their familiarty and reminded me of the city that I had left so many years ago.

The first thing that came to mind when I finished the book was a sense of awe and gratitude. Awe for Sohail's courage of tackling such a difficult and dangerous subject; and doing it dispassionately and in such a measured manner. Gratitude for addressing the subject that I have always felt needed to be addressed. Also gratitude for his sensitive depiction of a Hindu family, poor but proud, trying to survive in a country that is theirs but treats them with utter disdain, proudly consigning them to the status of second class citizens.

The story is a procedural with a reluctant hero trying to uncover the truth behind an apparent suicide of a young man. This middleclass policeman is painfully aware of the limitations that the system places on his search for justice, and he is not shy of evening the odds by utilizing the powers that a police-state can confer on men in his position.

Sohail unfolds the story through multiple points of view and non-linear timelines, yet never letting releasing the tension of the plot drop is remarkable. The dialogue is rich and realistic and metaphors are brilliantlhy evocative, such as the comparison of a smile to spreading of a drop of colour spreading in water.

I am looking forward to the next book by Sohail!

[Naveed Qazi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sohail Rauf’s Blasphear presents a penetrating look into the societal repercussions of religious intolerance and the devastating impact of Pakistan's controversial blasphemy laws. Through a multi-perspective narrative, the novel critiques the intersection of religion, justice, and personal morality. By grounding the story in deeply human experiences, Rauf crafts a narrative that is as thought-provoking as it is heartrending.

The plot revolves around three central characters: Waqas, a jaded police officer reluctantly tasked with investigating a young man’s suicide; Furqan, a university student mourning his friend Hassan; and Lubna, Hassan’s grieving sister who struggles to make sense of the tragedy. Each perspective brings unique insights into the lives affected by an accusation of blasphemy, revealing the intricacies of their struggles in a society fraught with systemic inequities.

The inciting event of the novel is the brutal lynching of Mohan, a Hindu teacher at a predominantly Muslim college, falsely accused of blasphemy. Mohan’s introduction of fine arts and progressive thinking to his students enrages the Talaba, a religious student organisation whose influence is deeply embedded within the institution. His murder not only serves as the novel's emotional core but also as a commentary on the precarious position of minorities in an environment where bigotry thrives unchecked. Mohan’s death reverberates throughout the narrative, forcing the characters to confront their complicity, fears, and the societal structures that enable such tragedies.

One of Rauf’s most impressive feats is his ability to humanise each side of the story. The characters are drawn with nuance, reflecting the multifaceted nature of their emotions and conflicts. Waqas, for instance, is a man torn between apathy for his career and a deep-seated sense of justice. His journey from disillusionment to determination mirrors the overarching theme of moral courage in the face of injustice. Similarly, Furqan’s and Lubna’s perspectives—one through the lens of youthful idealism, the other through a sibling’s grief—ground the narrative in personal tragedy, making the consequences of societal intolerance all the more visceral.

The narrative employs alternating viewpoints, a structural choice that enhances its emotional depth and thematic complexity. This approach allows Rauf to present a holistic picture of the events while fostering empathy for all the characters. Whether it is Lubna’s quiet resilience or Waqas’s internal battle with his own prejudices, the shifting perspectives invite readers to immerse themselves fully into the world of Blasphear.

Rauf’s prose is restrained yet impactful, avoiding melodrama and instead opting for a subtle, evocative style that underscores the gravity of the subject matter. His descriptions of the mob’s frenzied violence, juxtaposed with intimate moments of grief and reflection, create a stark contrast that amplifies the emotional resonance of the story. The dialogue, too, feels authentic, capturing the tensions and nuances of the cultural and societal backdrop.

At its core, Blasphear is an exploration of power—how it is wielded, abused, and resisted. The blasphemy laws, which serve as the novel’s central conflict, are a metaphorical representation of unchecked authority. They illustrate how fear and suspicion can be weaponised, often with tragic consequences. The novel’s portrayal of the Talaba organisation as both a symptom and a driver of societal decay emphasises the cyclical nature of intolerance, where violence breeds silence, and silence enables further violence.

Education and art emerge as subversive forces in the novel, standing in stark contrast to the oppressive ideologies of the Talaba. Mohan’s passion for fine arts symbolises the power of creativity and critical thinking to challenge societal norms and prejudices. His tragic fate, however, underscores the resistance such efforts face in an environment hostile to change. This tension between progress and tradition is a recurring theme, reflecting the broader struggles of a society grappling with modernity and conservatism.

Rauf also delves into the psychological toll of living under constant threat. The characters’ internal struggles—Waqas’s self-doubt, Lubna’s grief, Furqan’s survivor’s guilt—mirror the larger societal trauma. This interplay between personal and collective suffering adds layers to the narrative, making it a profound meditation on the human cost of systemic injustice.

While the novel offers a scathing critique of societal flaws, it does not provide easy solutions. Instead, it invites readers to grapple with difficult questions about morality, justice, and the role of individuals in challenging oppressive systems. The ending, while not wholly optimistic, leaves room for reflection and a glimmer of hope, suggesting that change, though difficult, is possible.

In conclusion, Blasphear is a masterfully crafted novel that transcends its specific cultural and geographical context to address universal themes of justice, power, and human resilience. Through its complex characters, nuanced storytelling, and incisive critique, Rauf paints a poignant picture of a society at a crossroads. The novel serves as both a cautionary tale and a call to action, urging readers to confront their own biases and the societal structures that perpetuate injustice. It is a work that lingers in the mind long after the final page, challenging us to listen, question, and, ultimately, act.

[eesha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gluttony is not a sin for mullahs; reading is.

Sohail Rauf crafts an appealing, yet disturbing crime story in the streets of Shantinagar, intertwining both culture and the repulsion by it in the same book. For someone who has never gotten along with the complexity of literature that hails from the Sub-Continent, ‘Blasphear’ eases you into the scene without intimidating you with the density of the streets of Pakistan. It is an unnerving tale that takes the reader into the world without expecting them to know and understand the intricacies of what normality is or what is considered absurd. Instead, the story holds your hand through a horrific game of lies, where the rules are known by only the religious fanatics of the city. The tale of Shantinagar is familiar, relevant, and often forgotten.

Just like Dante descends the steps of the underworld, the protagonist, Waqas, unravels the spiraling preposterousness of the case of a young boy’s apparent suicide, plagued by the verses of Meeraji and Waqas' petrifying history involving the loss of a loved one. Rauf knows the sensitivity of the matter, and he is unapologetic as he connects the past, present, and future in the form of a flawless discourse on faith and morality. Exploring the case through the perspective of Waqas keeps you from turning to the next page with the dread of something far more sinister lurking between the lines of this tale.

Switching between the perspectives of the other key narrators gives the story a sense of belongingness and warmth. Furqan offers the solace of a friend, the ray of hope, and the determination that keeps the book going. Lubna’s world is a turmoil of nature, patriarchy, isolation, and tragedy, but she is buoyant like a feather—serene and docile. The pair contradicts the fiery nature of Waqas’ work, keeping the themes of humanity and love resolute within the novel.

Finally, the critique of the Pakistani legal system, and the strong message of separating the church (or in this case, the mosque) and state evokes rage towards the system we have unintentionally partaken in. ‘Blasphear’ insists on the dubiousness of the beneficiaries of religion, pointing a dauntless finger at the wrongdoers, and making you aware of the three fingers that point at you. It keeps one on a pedestal while simultaneously pulling the rug from underneath. The story questions the values of deen but redefines what it means to be a believer.

The story is cohesive, and it closes all the boxes that it opens. However, the dialogues feel flat and often forgettable. The impact of the writing doesn’t linger, which is slightly disappointing as the book's subject is crucial to discuss. Waqas’ narrative also seemed detached and unnatural at times, but it is immediately made up for by the engrossing details in Furqan’s anecdotes. Regardless of the criticisms, ‘Blasphear’ is a new addition to the must-reads of South Asian literature.

[For The Novel Lovers · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book Review

Title: Blasphear by Sohail Rauf

Genre: Literary Fiction, Crime

Rating: 4.5 Stars

Sohail Rauf’s Blasphear is a gripping and timely book that explores the volatile intersection of justice, religion, and fear in contemporary Pakistan. Set in the fictional town of Shantinagar, Punjab, the novel is centered around two deeply unsettling events: the brutal mob lynching of Mohan, a Hindu art teacher accused of blasphemy, and the mysterious death of a teenage boy, Hasan. These tragedies unravel through the eyes of Sub-Inspector Waqas Mahmood, who is reluctantly assigned to investigate Hasan’s case—a task that reopens wounds from his own family's past with the same oppressive laws.

Waqas begins as a jaded officer, numbed by years of institutional rot and public apathy, but his character deepens over the course of the novel as he confronts both personal guilt and a corrupt system that often shields perpetrators rather than victims. The story unfolds through multiple perspectives, including Hasan’s best friend Furqan and his sister Lubna, giving the narrative a layered texture. Each character wrestles with silence, complicity, and the moral weight of truth in a society where speaking out can be fatal.

Rauf's prose is clean and restrained, matching the novel’s somber tone. He avoids melodrama, allowing the emotional resonance to emerge naturally through quiet, devastating moments. The nonlinear narrative structure enhances the suspense while offering deeper psychological insights. Despite the brutal subject matter, Blasphear maintains a thoughtful pace, balancing its critique of extremism with a humanistic portrayal of ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances.

What stands out most is how the novel treats its themes with both urgency and nuance. It examines the chilling consequences of weaponized belief, not with didacticism, but through compelling storytelling. Mohan, though killed early in the story, remains a haunting presence—an embodiment of compassion, art, and intellectual freedom crushed under the weight of fanaticism. In contrast, Lubna emerges as a quiet force, her resolve and emotional clarity grounding the narrative.

While the novel’s tone is intentionally measured, some readers may wish for more intensity or emotional volatility. A few supporting characters flirt with stereotype, especially within the police force, but these moments are overshadowed by the depth and dignity given to the primary characters.

Blasphear ultimately succeeds as both a crime novel and a moral inquiry. It asks uncomfortable but essential questions: What does justice look like in a society where truth is dangerous? What happens to those left behind after a public killing becomes a footnote? Through this haunting story, Rauf offers no easy answers—only a mirror to the systems we build and the silences we choose. This is a powerful, restrained, and vital book that deserves a wide audience.

[Bhaswar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Blasphear, (a title that cleverly fuses "blasphemy" and "fear") is Sohail Rauf’s debut novel and encapsulates the terror and paranoia that infect communities when religion becomes weaponized. It is a bold, socially urgent and a forceful critique of Pakistan’s religious extremism and infamous blasphemy laws, though the author unequivocally establishes that the villain is the dogmatic interpretation quite divorced from the letter of the law itself.

The setting of Shantinagar, a dusty town in Punjab, oppressive, and stagnant, mirrors the stifled moral compass of most inhabitants who would rather normalise hate and injustice than risk the backlash on their lives. The protagonist, Waqas Mahmood, an ordinary sub-inspector is tasked with investigating seventeen-year-old Hasan’s death. His findings soon become inextricably linked to the recent public lynching and death of a Hindu Arts teacher Mohan.

Sohail deftly weaves the story through two parallel timelines: Waqas’s present-day investigation and the past recollections of Furqan-a friend of Hasan and Ram (Mohan’s brother), Lubna (Hasan’s sister) and Waqas himself. These three alternating perspectives trace the painful path of childhood interfaith friendships sacrificed at the altar of sectarian tensions and bigotry and transform the story from the mystery surrounding a teenage death into a complex sociological study of how extremism is seeded and normalized in ordinary lives.

The character arc of Waqas, as he struggles between apathy and conscience, is the strongest of the three in his journey from disillusionment to determination, with the innate goodness of Furqan coming a close second. The causative back story of Waqas’s losing his own father to ‘mob justice’ provides the poignant force for his metamorphosis. The emotional arc of Hasan, though compelling, might have benefited from deeper exploration of his ideological grooming. His transformation however, from an inquisitive, open-minded friend to a casualty of ideological seduction is the novel’s most tragic thread, symbolizing how extremism takes root in seemingly ordinary young lives.

The narrative occasionally leans too heavily on exposition, especially in Waqas’s chapters. Though necessary for context, they come at the cost of the novel’s momentum. The characters of the antagonists too could have been fleshed out better, I thought.

That said, Blasphear is a powerful and multi-layered commentary that interrogates the machinery of religious extremism and the perils of its unchecked authority. It doesn’t offer easy answers, nor does it preach. Instead, it asks readers to confront the cost of silence, the fragility of justice, and the danger of unchecked dogma. Blasphear is a highly recommended and necessary read, for it isn’t merely fiction; it is a mirror held up to the persistent and painful social wounds of the subcontinent.

[S S · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sohail Rauf's *Blasphear* is a powerful and provocative narrative that delves into one of the most sensitive issues of our time: the weaponization of religion to instill fear and control. The title itself is a genius play on words, capturing the essence of fear and silence that surrounds the concept of blasphemy, especially in places where questioning religious authority comes at a deadly price.

Set against the backdrop of Shanti Nagar, a richly detailed and ominous world, Rauf presents a society suffocated by religious extremism. The main character, Waqas, leads a life haunted by his own thoughts, his emotional turmoil vividly depicted through the author's exceptional storytelling. The dynamics between Waqas and his ex-partner, and the poignant role of Lubna, are highlights, adding layers of emotional depth to the story. These characters’ experiences intertwine with the overarching themes of religious control, making them not only relatable but a reflection of many silenced voices in real-world societies.

What stands out about *Blasphear* is its fearless exploration of the blasphemy laws and how they are used as tools of oppression, not only in Pakistan but across borders, including modern India. The plight of minorities, particularly the helplessness of the Hindu community, is heart-wrenching and so vividly portrayed that it leaves a lasting impact. Rauf’s bold narrative doesn’t shy away from the reality that religious fanaticism, driven by fear rather than faith, is a global issue, leaving little room for freedom of speech.

The novel also shines in its structure, as the use of three different perspectives gives the story an added edge. Each viewpoint provides a nuanced look into the complex lives of the characters, further enriching the narrative.

Sohail Rauf's *Blasphear* is not just a novel; it's a statement, a reflection of a world where religious extremism still looms large. It's a must-read for anyone brave enough to confront these truths, told through an evocative and gripping storyline that will linger long after the final page.

This is a brave, necessary read that will challenge your perceptions and leave you reflecting on the world around us.

[Aparna Salvi Salvi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Police officer Waqas is called to investigate the case of a boy hanging from the ceiling fan of his home at Shanti Nagar in Punjab, Pakistan. While the case looks like a suicide, Waqas isn’t convinced of the same. Against the authorities and the wish of his family members, Waqas dives deep into the case, unearthing the dark truth of the socio-religious fabric of Pakistan. His journey takes a sharp turn when the deceased boy's friend, Furqan, joins him. He guides the officer into the obnoxious under belly of University student politics, and how naïve students are used as a weapon to fight the blasphemy war. Maulanas, the religiously leaders, brainwash the youth to believe in Islam as the greatest religion, and those not following the said principles be lynched.
Blasphear, is my first novel by a Pakistani author whose story of secularism holds high regard for every faith on the earth. The voice of the protagonist is strong. Such a bold portrayal of standing for equality and truth is rare to be found. Not once does the book strays away from it’s theme- blasphemy. Logical reasoning is the spine of the story.
On the writing, even though there are a number of characters of the same age, not once does one get confused on who is who. Even the secondary characters stay etched in one’s mind. There is some amount of back and forth in the alternate chapters, but the demarcation is clear. Though the book is a thriller, it has a beautiful literary angle to it. A few poetic lines here and there, take away the drabness that sometimes comes with thrillers. Human emotions and ties are dealt with delicately.
Every person who goes beyond the call of duty is either tormented by the ghosts of his past or is lured into achieving higher goals. Waqas is no different. He has a past from which he hasn’t recovered. Solving this case of blasphemy will suture the bleeding in his heart.
In my bid to explore modern writings of authors belonging to different nationalities, I’m happy to have found Mr Rauf’s book. If you wish to read a thriller with a heart, then do pick Blasphear. It is the window to the world one believes doesn’t exist. Go in for some reality check.

[Maliha Rao · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Blasphear” by Sohail Rauf is a Contemporary Fiction. Most contemporary Fiction feels bland to me when I have dipped my soul in Horror and Epic Fantasy. But here is a book that I was unable to put down, engaging and intriguing from the start till the finish, I was invested!

Blasphear is a story of how extremism, ignorance and delusion can lead to catastrophic outcomes. The plot touches on the sensitive yet important subject of Blasphemy and Religious extremism. This story is even more important to be read and shared now because of the growing unlawful and violent atrocities against the minorities in Pakistan, especially Punjab.

The story revolves around three friends, two Muslims and one Hindu, who have a bond like no other. Things get messy, very messy and the bonds are severed which leads to despair, death and mayhem.

Sub-Inspecter Waqas is what we hope all policemen aspire to be. His character is so real and flawed yet he still manages to fight his fears for the sake of truth despite his traumas. The stories of the young boys inspired him he went out of his way to solve a case that no one wanted to touch because of “religious” concerns. Furqan is another Character I resonated with; perhaps I saw a bit of myself in him when I was younger.

I appreciated how the positive side of Islam was also reflected and the Brainwashing of the extremists was clarified as something which is not supported. You will LEARN more about Blasphemy in this book because I sure did.

The book was sent to me by the Author, Sohail Rauf. I appreciate his trust in me and his valuing of my Book Reviewing Skills. I am glad I said Yes to reading this book. This is not a paid review.
It is currently only available on Kindle for Pakistan but is a “Must Read”.

[Fatima Arif · Rating 4 out of 5]

The role of women in the novel is significant, as they are portrayed as victims of extremist ideologies and also as agents of change and resilience, which was honestly my favourite aspect of the novel. The female characters in the novel, such as the protagonist's wife and sister of Hassan , are depicted as strong and courageous individuals who resist the oppressive forces of extremism and terrorism. It is indeed refreshing to read about women who are strong and vulnerable at the same time.

The novel also presents a positive portrayal of ordinary Pakistani citizens who are opposed to extremism and terrorism. The characters in the novel, including the protagonist, are depicted as moderate and peace-loving individuals who are committed to promoting tolerance, understanding, and peaceful coexistence ,at the same time trying to fight the currupt and unethical social norms of the society.

Overall, Blasphear is a powerful and thought-provoking novel that offers a nuanced and balanced perspective on the complex issues facing Pakistan and the Muslim world. It highlights the importance of women's empowerment and the need for moderate voices to stand up against extremism and promote peace and tolerance. We need to highlight our issues by showing that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Good read for me and an amazing first-time endeavour by Sohail Rauf.

[Sanjeeva Maithani · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow! Here's a book that deals with a contemporary and burning topic - blasphemy, through a moving story. The bonding of three boys , the budding of love between their role model and one of the trio's sister which sows the seed of discord between the friends. Enter religious bigots who fan this hatred and exploit it to gain visibility resulting in two murders - one that passes off as lynching and other as suicide. Enter Waqas an Introvert yet honest and open minded policeman who along with his ex-girlfriend turned journalist cracks open both cases. Along the way we are taken through a journey of discovery, happiness of finding friends and love, courage to fight bigotry, the mindset of religious fanatics and the helplessness of authorities in controlling it ( though they can easily do so if they find the will). Characters that are fleshed out, a story that comes out as an autobiography ( it's feels so realistic), atmosphere created perfectly - be it police procedures, college life, student politics, family life of policemen, the doubt some of new converts to fanaticism have etc the list goes on and on about the magic Sohail has created. A book that deserves more readers. Don't lose any time and order this book right away. I would put my neck on the line and recommend this book to be a mandatory read in colleges. Thank you Sohail for writing it and making me a better man.

[Sumanya · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked up Blasphear because the premise intrigued me. After watching Tan Man Neel o Neel, the blasphemy law in Pakistan reminds me of the Salem witch trials- a coming together of personal agendas and political aspirations. What counts as an authentic interpretation of religion is essentially determined by politics.

First off, congratulations to @sohailraufauthor for tackling such a critical and difficult subject. This was a well-paced, gripping tale. Waqas, the cop in charge of the investigation of a case of suicide/murder, is the protagonist and one of three POV’s in this novel. He is your run-of-the-mill kind of guy, the garden variety, socially privileged sort of man who in many ways would have stuck to the status quo. He is not a deep thinker, an intellectual, or even a particularly morally upright guy. He is your quintessential South Asian man who, very tellingly, was not able to stand up for his love. What drives him to seek justice then? It is a personal tale of trauma he suffered as a child because of a lynching. This character is a stroke of brilliance.

Early on in the book, there is a little exposition on what the sight of a beard does to the common person. It is a short, simple description of fear, and in particular, fear of the collective.

I had two bones to pick with the writer. One, was the almost caricatured portrayal of Fareeha and Amber. I understand that they were seen through Waqas ‘ eyes. Yet, I wish i could have seen other facets to them. Second, I found Furqan’s and Waqas’ voices blending into each other. Maybe because their moral compass was more-or-less the same. I needed something to differentiate them, something that told me Waqas was middle ages and Furqan was a young adult. Something that gives a glimpse into the different dilemmas they faced.

A very well-plotted murder, suspense and social commentary. Pick up this South Asian version of The Crucible if you want a glimpse into the social fabric of Pakistan and indeed South Asia.

[Saloni Sankhe · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Blasphear by Sohail Rauf is a compelling and thought-provoking novel that masterfully blends mystery, social commentary, and personal redemption.

The story follows sub-inspector Waqas Mahmood, a disenchanted police officer in the small, sweltering town of Shantinagar, Pakistan. Initially eager to close the case of a seventeen-year-old’s apparent suicide with minimal effort, Waqas’s world is turned upside down when the boy’s friend insists it was murder, potentially linked to a past incident of religious violence.

As Waqas delves deeper into the case, he uncovers a complex web of friendships shattered by betrayal, conspiracy, and fanaticism.

The novel tackles themes of justice, moral courage, and the impact of societal prejudices, prompting readers to reflect on their own beliefs and actions.
It’s a must-read for anyone interested in a story that combines a gripping mystery with profound social insights

[Shinde · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Too much religion. Too little humanity.”
This catchy inscription on the cover title perfectly sums up the ‘whydunit’ behind the ‘whodunit’.

As Inspector Waqas tries to wrap up Hasan’s suicide case, he uncovers clues which point towards a religious fanaticism behind this murder.
As the story unfolds, the title echoes with its multi-pronged deeper meaning!
PROS:
• Sohail takes us on a tautly crafted politico-social thriller ride.
• It is strewn with delightful Urdu shayari, and raw philosophy etched in a perfect tapestry of powerful quotes (e.g, An autopsy on him would have been a postmortem of society).
• Sohail’s characters – both male and female are memorable & defined. The multiple protagonist pov is usually tough to manoeuvre, but Sohail effectively brandishes it to propel the story ahead.

[Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was gripped by the narrative of Blasphear. Waqas is a compelling character, and the way Sohail Rauf unravels his disillusionment and moral dilemmas against the backdrop of religious extremism is deftly handled. The tension builds beautifully, and the haunting echoes of the past add depth to this open-minded story. I found this a powerful and timely novel. I can imagine it being adapted for TV or the cinema.

[Gurbirender Gill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very well written book, through a fictional account the author talks about religion.