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Coming Back: The odyssey of a Pakistani through India
When I first started putting the recollections of my visit to India in writing, I had no idea that they would assume the shape of a book one day. Back in London, several months after my trip, I contin- ued to revel in my memories of the country: its sights, smells and sounds. Those memories demanded to be written down, for they seemed too significant in my life’s journey to be allowed to wear away with the corrosive forces of time. A journalist friend, who took very good care of me in Delhi, also insisted that I write down my impressions of his country with the offer of getting them pub- lished in a newspaper he worked for.
Like any modern-day traveller, I had brought back a sizeable repository of photographs, as well as some audio clips and a few random notes jotted down on my phone. But every time I thought to mould all of this raw material into a meaningful form, I reached an impasse. I realised that this was partly due to the restrictions that a long piece or a series for a newspaper or magazine placed on my writing. It was difficult to capture the breadth of what I experi- enced in India in such a narrow form.
Then came Christmas break the following year, and unchar- acteristically, I had time off from work without any plans of us- ing it to travel to a new country. This was when the reprimand of my conscience over my prolonged inertia became unbearable. I picked up my pen and let the ink flow. Flow it did, like a river that determines its own course. I do not know what came upon me, but I had never experienced such fluency in my writing before. The film of my trip to India started playing before my eyes. I kept on writing until I had recorded everything I remembered. When I finished, I heaved a sigh of relief as if a debt had been repaid. I sent the entire text to the journalist friend who had urged me to write. He responded with a promise that he would give it a read; a promise that might now get fulfilled, since the manuscript has acquired the form of a book.
Excerpts from this travel account were published in a literary journal and then it started gathering dust. A few years later, I at- tended a book launch in London at the insistence of a friend who was moderating a session with the author. The event that I attend- ed out of obligation to a friend turned out to be quite interesting for myself too. It was there that I had my first encounter with the publisher of Kantara Press, Jamil Chishti. That chance meeting led to the idea to convert my travel account into a book.
When the idea of this book was initially discussed, I was not sure if I was qualified to author a book on this subject due to my brief visit of only two and a half weeks. This is, of course, not the first volume of its kind. Books about Pakistanis visiting India and vice versa have been written before. Writers have spoken about the similarities and familiarities they found in unlikely places. Some went on a quest to rediscover family roots, others tried to uncov- er the reality of everyday existence on “the other side” that is not reflected in media reports. But then I realised that my personal experience had its own place in time and history, distinct from the perspective and experience of everyone else, so why should it not be heard by the people of our two countries as well as the wider world?
As I now had a larger canvas to work with, I revisited the se- ries and updated the narrative, unhindered by the restriction of a word count. Distance from the actual occasion of the visit be- stowed me with further insights and interpretations. The detail I had to skip previously in the interest of brevity was reincorporat- ed. A few months later, when I went back to my hometown, Dera Ismail Khan, wiser by the experiences gathered during my India trip, I looked at the crumbling houses, deserted temples and old neighbourhoods with more reverence and tenderness. They had once been inhabited and frequented by the city’s Hindu and Sikh residents, who were uprooted during the chaos of Partition, and now lived hundreds of miles away, remembering and commem- orating what they had lost. I felt like I had completed a circle and incorporated those later impressions in my account.
Relations between India and Pakistan are almost always char- acterised by varying degrees of mistrust and animosity with oc- casional efforts towards rapprochement, which rekindle over- whelming, although short-lived, feelings of warmth on both sides. The legacy of unresolved conflicts from the time of Partition has translated into four wars and many stand-offs that brought the two neighbours to the brink of war several times. At the time of my visit in the summer of 2017, the political climate was freezing cold and it has remained so, if not worsened, since then. This low period has lasted for longer than ever before during my lifetime. The forces of jingoism now act and speak with more confidence, drowning out voices calling for peace and free movement. Cross-bord...
Like any modern-day traveller, I had brought back a sizeable repository of photographs, as well as some audio clips and a few random notes jotted down on my phone. But every time I thought to mould all of this raw material into a meaningful form, I reached an impasse. I realised that this was partly due to the restrictions that a long piece or a series for a newspaper or magazine placed on my writing. It was difficult to capture the breadth of what I experi- enced in India in such a narrow form.
Then came Christmas break the following year, and unchar- acteristically, I had time off from work without any plans of us- ing it to travel to a new country. This was when the reprimand of my conscience over my prolonged inertia became unbearable. I picked up my pen and let the ink flow. Flow it did, like a river that determines its own course. I do not know what came upon me, but I had never experienced such fluency in my writing before. The film of my trip to India started playing before my eyes. I kept on writing until I had recorded everything I remembered. When I finished, I heaved a sigh of relief as if a debt had been repaid. I sent the entire text to the journalist friend who had urged me to write. He responded with a promise that he would give it a read; a promise that might now get fulfilled, since the manuscript has acquired the form of a book.
Excerpts from this travel account were published in a literary journal and then it started gathering dust. A few years later, I at- tended a book launch in London at the insistence of a friend who was moderating a session with the author. The event that I attend- ed out of obligation to a friend turned out to be quite interesting for myself too. It was there that I had my first encounter with the publisher of Kantara Press, Jamil Chishti. That chance meeting led to the idea to convert my travel account into a book.
When the idea of this book was initially discussed, I was not sure if I was qualified to author a book on this subject due to my brief visit of only two and a half weeks. This is, of course, not the first volume of its kind. Books about Pakistanis visiting India and vice versa have been written before. Writers have spoken about the similarities and familiarities they found in unlikely places. Some went on a quest to rediscover family roots, others tried to uncov- er the reality of everyday existence on “the other side” that is not reflected in media reports. But then I realised that my personal experience had its own place in time and history, distinct from the perspective and experience of everyone else, so why should it not be heard by the people of our two countries as well as the wider world?
As I now had a larger canvas to work with, I revisited the se- ries and updated the narrative, unhindered by the restriction of a word count. Distance from the actual occasion of the visit be- stowed me with further insights and interpretations. The detail I had to skip previously in the interest of brevity was reincorporat- ed. A few months later, when I went back to my hometown, Dera Ismail Khan, wiser by the experiences gathered during my India trip, I looked at the crumbling houses, deserted temples and old neighbourhoods with more reverence and tenderness. They had once been inhabited and frequented by the city’s Hindu and Sikh residents, who were uprooted during the chaos of Partition, and now lived hundreds of miles away, remembering and commem- orating what they had lost. I felt like I had completed a circle and incorporated those later impressions in my account.
Relations between India and Pakistan are almost always char- acterised by varying degrees of mistrust and animosity with oc- casional efforts towards rapprochement, which rekindle over- whelming, although short-lived, feelings of warmth on both sides. The legacy of unresolved conflicts from the time of Partition has translated into four wars and many stand-offs that brought the two neighbours to the brink of war several times. At the time of my visit in the summer of 2017, the political climate was freezing cold and it has remained so, if not worsened, since then. This low period has lasted for longer than ever before during my lifetime. The forces of jingoism now act and speak with more confidence, drowning out voices calling for peace and free movement. Cross-bord...
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152 pages, Paperback
First published April 5, 2025
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May 12, 2025
“Coming Back” by Shueyb Gandapur — A Journey of Return Without Ever Leaving
Shueyb Gandapur’s Coming Back is not just a travelogue—it is a story of emotional inheritance, rediscovery, and spiritual reflection that masquerades as a visit to four Indian cities: Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, and Banaras. But beneath the surface of this physical itinerary lies a much deeper pilgrimage—one to memory, culture, and buried roots. The book’s very first chapter makes this clear. Titled “It Took You So Long to Come Back”, it opens with a paradox: this is the author’s first trip to India, yet he is welcomed with the warmth and familiarity of someone long expected.
This contradiction is the emotional force of the book. India is at once a new country and an old memory. The opening pages are filled with anecdotes of Shueyb being embraced as a long-lost friend, not a stranger from across a heavily guarded border. The chapter pulses with a quiet astonishment: at how quickly places and people feel like home, even when you've never stepped foot there before. The cultural and historical connections—shared language, food, gestures—bridge generations of separation. It’s a homecoming that transcends passports.
Shueyb’s writing is gentle and fluid, free of ornament but not of depth. He is not merely listing monuments; rather, he is observing how spaces breathe. Yes, he visits famous landmarks like the Amer Fort, Ganesh Pol, and the Jama Masjid of Fatehpur Sikri, but these are not just stops—they are moments of reflection. His photographs, included in the book, are not decorative filler. The images themselves carry narrative weight. For instance:
The devotees bathing in the Ganges represent not just ritual, but the washing away of borders, personal and political.
The elderly man resting under a banyan tree in Jaipur serves as a living portrait of timelessness, anchoring modern wanderings in something ancient and unmoving.
The captions act almost as poetry themselves—quiet reflections beside visual memories.
As the book unfolds, we see Shueyb exploring not just cities, but identities. His quest to meet the Derawal diaspora in Delhi—people whose ancestors also hailed from his hometown, Dera Ismail Khan—is among the book’s most moving episodes. It’s in these moments that the past and present dissolve, and what remains is a common longing for lost community and shared language. Similarly, his effort to trace the Hindu Pashtun presence is not just historical curiosity—it’s an act of cultural preservation.
The final chapter is particularly striking. Here, the tone shifts from wonder to introspection. After weeks of immersing himself in the chaotic, rich, diverse landscapes of India, Shueyb Gandapur allows Dera to surface not as a mere place on the map, but as a living fragment of identity — always present, always echoing. He views Dera Ismail Khan through a mature lens—neither romanticizing nor disowning it. He processes its memory with empathy and realism, especially as he finds echoes of it in unexpected places and people (e.g. Hindustani Pashto speakers, or ancestral connections in Indian cities). It is this quiet but powerful return — through people, language, and unspoken connection — that lingers long after the pages end.
It’s in this comparison that the book’s title, Coming Back, gains its true meaning. He came back not just to India—but to his own questions, to a sense of loss, and to a better understanding of what was taken by history.
The book closes with a poignant verse, by Jagit Singh:
“Tum tanha duniya se laro ge / Bachon si baatein karte ho”
(You’ll face the world alone? You speak like a child.)
This couplet appears at the end of Coming Back and reflects the book’s larger message: idealism must coexist with experience, and hope with realism. It’s a fitting, understated closure to a journey that is at once personal and political.
Gandapur ends not with answers but with a quiet call—for gentleness, for cross-border empathy, and for remembering those who were lost in the shuffle of history.
⭐ Final Verdict:
Coming Back is not a typical travel narrative. It is a cultural meditation, a personal reconciliation, and a human document. It’s about history’s echo in the present, about strangers who feel familiar, and about how cities, like people, remember.
Shueyb Gandapur’s unadorned style, painter’s eye (yes, he painted the book’s cover), and profound restraint result in something far more powerful than a guidebook. This is a journey that lingers. And in today’s world of hardened borders, Coming Back reminds us how soft and porous memory, culture, and language truly are.
🟢 Highly recommended for lovers of travel writing, history, subcontinental literature—and anyone who believes stories can cross borders even when people cannot.
Shueyb Gandapur’s Coming Back is not just a travelogue—it is a story of emotional inheritance, rediscovery, and spiritual reflection that masquerades as a visit to four Indian cities: Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, and Banaras. But beneath the surface of this physical itinerary lies a much deeper pilgrimage—one to memory, culture, and buried roots. The book’s very first chapter makes this clear. Titled “It Took You So Long to Come Back”, it opens with a paradox: this is the author’s first trip to India, yet he is welcomed with the warmth and familiarity of someone long expected.
This contradiction is the emotional force of the book. India is at once a new country and an old memory. The opening pages are filled with anecdotes of Shueyb being embraced as a long-lost friend, not a stranger from across a heavily guarded border. The chapter pulses with a quiet astonishment: at how quickly places and people feel like home, even when you've never stepped foot there before. The cultural and historical connections—shared language, food, gestures—bridge generations of separation. It’s a homecoming that transcends passports.
Shueyb’s writing is gentle and fluid, free of ornament but not of depth. He is not merely listing monuments; rather, he is observing how spaces breathe. Yes, he visits famous landmarks like the Amer Fort, Ganesh Pol, and the Jama Masjid of Fatehpur Sikri, but these are not just stops—they are moments of reflection. His photographs, included in the book, are not decorative filler. The images themselves carry narrative weight. For instance:
The devotees bathing in the Ganges represent not just ritual, but the washing away of borders, personal and political.
The elderly man resting under a banyan tree in Jaipur serves as a living portrait of timelessness, anchoring modern wanderings in something ancient and unmoving.
The captions act almost as poetry themselves—quiet reflections beside visual memories.
As the book unfolds, we see Shueyb exploring not just cities, but identities. His quest to meet the Derawal diaspora in Delhi—people whose ancestors also hailed from his hometown, Dera Ismail Khan—is among the book’s most moving episodes. It’s in these moments that the past and present dissolve, and what remains is a common longing for lost community and shared language. Similarly, his effort to trace the Hindu Pashtun presence is not just historical curiosity—it’s an act of cultural preservation.
The final chapter is particularly striking. Here, the tone shifts from wonder to introspection. After weeks of immersing himself in the chaotic, rich, diverse landscapes of India, Shueyb Gandapur allows Dera to surface not as a mere place on the map, but as a living fragment of identity — always present, always echoing. He views Dera Ismail Khan through a mature lens—neither romanticizing nor disowning it. He processes its memory with empathy and realism, especially as he finds echoes of it in unexpected places and people (e.g. Hindustani Pashto speakers, or ancestral connections in Indian cities). It is this quiet but powerful return — through people, language, and unspoken connection — that lingers long after the pages end.
It’s in this comparison that the book’s title, Coming Back, gains its true meaning. He came back not just to India—but to his own questions, to a sense of loss, and to a better understanding of what was taken by history.
The book closes with a poignant verse, by Jagit Singh:
“Tum tanha duniya se laro ge / Bachon si baatein karte ho”
(You’ll face the world alone? You speak like a child.)
This couplet appears at the end of Coming Back and reflects the book’s larger message: idealism must coexist with experience, and hope with realism. It’s a fitting, understated closure to a journey that is at once personal and political.
Gandapur ends not with answers but with a quiet call—for gentleness, for cross-border empathy, and for remembering those who were lost in the shuffle of history.
⭐ Final Verdict:
Coming Back is not a typical travel narrative. It is a cultural meditation, a personal reconciliation, and a human document. It’s about history’s echo in the present, about strangers who feel familiar, and about how cities, like people, remember.
Shueyb Gandapur’s unadorned style, painter’s eye (yes, he painted the book’s cover), and profound restraint result in something far more powerful than a guidebook. This is a journey that lingers. And in today’s world of hardened borders, Coming Back reminds us how soft and porous memory, culture, and language truly are.
🟢 Highly recommended for lovers of travel writing, history, subcontinental literature—and anyone who believes stories can cross borders even when people cannot.
July 7, 2025
I saw this book on author Aanchal Malhotra's Instagram story. Finished it in one sitting. It's a beautiful little book that has the author Shueyb Gandapur recollect his two and a half week trip to four cities in India back in 2017. The cities he visited were Delhi, Agra, Jaipur and Benaras. You see a gentle persona with eyes full of wonder and seeking peep through these pages. Shueyb, a CA originally from Dera Ismail Khan in Pakiatan, now living in London has visited over 100 countries. He had a childhood dream of visiting India having heard stories from his grandfather of their time lived in India (Chattisgarh) doing business pre-indepence. Amongst other things, his visit to the Derawala community in Delhi, meeting now forgotten community of Hindu Pashtuns in Jaipur, looking out for his favourite author Qurratulain Haider's grave, visiting Ghalib's home were the stand outs for me.
A beautifully narrated book sharing his experiences with the diversity that India has to offer, hospitality and hostility, discoveries and understanding of personal history with the politics of borders. Highly recommend for it's not yet another travelogue but has a unique voice and experience to offer. That beautiful painting on the cover is by the author himself!
A beautifully narrated book sharing his experiences with the diversity that India has to offer, hospitality and hostility, discoveries and understanding of personal history with the politics of borders. Highly recommend for it's not yet another travelogue but has a unique voice and experience to offer. That beautiful painting on the cover is by the author himself!
September 15, 2025
Shueyb Gandapur's "Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani through India" is a captivating and insightful book that stands out for being more than just a simple travelogue, adding commentary on the current socio-political environment in India, especially concerning its relationship with Muslims and Pakistan.
Every word of this book is brimming with the author's excitement and passion, making the reading experience truly immersive. It feels as if you're traveling alongside him, witnessing his discoveries firsthand. Each chapter is a new and exciting revelation, from learning about the Derawal community in Delhi to the surprising presence of Pashtun Hindus in Jaipur. The book is full of these wonderful, often-overlooked details that bring the historical and cultural ties between the two nations to life. It was also a nostalgic trip for me, seeing Orkut mentioned, as I made many Indian friends on that very platform myself.
Unfortunately though, some sections felt a little abrupt and rushed, with paragraphs and sentences that seemed disconnected from the rest of the passage. The back-and-forth chronology of the narrative was also a bit confusing at times. Having a more linear and straightforward chronological order would have made the reading experience even better.
I'm glad that Shueyb reached out a while back and introduced me to his book because I enjoyed every page of it. I would highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in the history and culture of the subcontinent.
Every word of this book is brimming with the author's excitement and passion, making the reading experience truly immersive. It feels as if you're traveling alongside him, witnessing his discoveries firsthand. Each chapter is a new and exciting revelation, from learning about the Derawal community in Delhi to the surprising presence of Pashtun Hindus in Jaipur. The book is full of these wonderful, often-overlooked details that bring the historical and cultural ties between the two nations to life. It was also a nostalgic trip for me, seeing Orkut mentioned, as I made many Indian friends on that very platform myself.
Unfortunately though, some sections felt a little abrupt and rushed, with paragraphs and sentences that seemed disconnected from the rest of the passage. The back-and-forth chronology of the narrative was also a bit confusing at times. Having a more linear and straightforward chronological order would have made the reading experience even better.
I'm glad that Shueyb reached out a while back and introduced me to his book because I enjoyed every page of it. I would highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in the history and culture of the subcontinent.
September 1, 2025
In Coming Back, @shueybgandapur invites us on a journey that is at once an intimate travelogue and a quiet meditation on identity, memory, and belonging.
What begins as a Pakistani traveller’s long-held dream of visiting India transforms into a layered narrative that traverses not only cities and monuments—Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Benaras—but also the unspoken terrain of Partition’s lingering wounds.
Gandapur writes with the curiosity of a global wanderer. From standing at Ghalib’s home to searching for Qurratulain Haider’s grave, from sharing moments with the Hindu Pashtuns of Jaipur to revisiting the Derawala community in Delhi, his encounters are textured with personal longing and historical resonance.
The memoir stands for its honesty. Gandapur does not shy away from the discomfort of being a Pakistani in India, nor does he underplay the small, luminous acts of kindness that bridge borders.
And amidst everything, what emerges is a portrait of two nations bound by invisible threads of language, food, memory, and culture—threads frayed but never severed.
Coming Back is a soulful reminder that while politics divide, stories can still heal
What begins as a Pakistani traveller’s long-held dream of visiting India transforms into a layered narrative that traverses not only cities and monuments—Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Benaras—but also the unspoken terrain of Partition’s lingering wounds.
Gandapur writes with the curiosity of a global wanderer. From standing at Ghalib’s home to searching for Qurratulain Haider’s grave, from sharing moments with the Hindu Pashtuns of Jaipur to revisiting the Derawala community in Delhi, his encounters are textured with personal longing and historical resonance.
The memoir stands for its honesty. Gandapur does not shy away from the discomfort of being a Pakistani in India, nor does he underplay the small, luminous acts of kindness that bridge borders.
And amidst everything, what emerges is a portrait of two nations bound by invisible threads of language, food, memory, and culture—threads frayed but never severed.
Coming Back is a soulful reminder that while politics divide, stories can still heal
September 18, 2025
At times poignant and thoughtful, with a sprinkle of humour and a great deal of historical and cultural analysis and comparison, this book was a breeze to read. Gandapur writes with fluidity and frankness and yet manages to capture worlds within his seemingly simple prose. It is a short book and easy to read because it is engaging and interesting, but the raison de’tre is the politically aware and unapologetic gaze of Gandapur that misses nothing and records even his own limitations as an objective viewer.
The curiosity, empathy and fascination with which Delhi, Varansi, Agra and Jaipur are represented here is marvellous to encounter. A gem of a book.
The curiosity, empathy and fascination with which Delhi, Varansi, Agra and Jaipur are represented here is marvellous to encounter. A gem of a book.
May 14, 2025
A few days ago, while scrolling through YouTube, I stumbled upon an interview with Shueyb Gandapur sahib discussing his book. A quick Google search led me to Book Corner Jhelum’s website, and I ordered the book without hesitation.
Just a few days later, as I turned the final pages of Naguib Mahfouz’s Children of the Alley, I found myself wondering what to read next. It was almost midnight. I knew the hangover from Mahfouz’s novel would linger for a few days—unless I could find something equally engaging to fill the void. Lazily, I rummaged through my bedside table and found Coming Back, still in its plastic wrapping, delivered only a day earlier. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Normally, I don’t jump straight into another book, but this time was different. Within five minutes of finishing Mahfouz, I had started reading Shueyb’s book. Before I knew it, I was 35 pages in. Despite my drowsiness, I found it hard to put down—and so I kept reading, much to my wife’s chagrin. By the following evening, I had finished the book in just three sittings, and thus, this review.
The beginning of the book is what truly hooked me. The author writes with disarming honesty about why he chose to travel to India. Reading about his journey from the visa application process to landing in India—and eventually returning—I found myself drawing inevitable parallels between the two countries. There’s an intrinsic curiosity many Pakistanis feel toward India (and vice versa, I imagine), and this book taps right into that.
Shueyb sahib’s writing is simple, yet engaging. The travelogue flows sequentially from his arrival in India to his departure, covering cities, historical landmarks, street encounters, food, shopping, and more. It takes a keen observer to take in the details of their surroundings, but to express those observations with emotion and nuance—that’s what makes this book special.
I could vividly imagine him walking the streets of Delhi, gazing at the Qutub Minar, visiting shamshanghats, admiring Mughal-era architecture, sipping chai in glass cups, and even daring to enter a temple reserved for Hindus—only to be questioned by a Sadhu.
His account of visiting Ghalib’s haveli and the grave of his idol, Qurat-ul-Ain, was particularly moving. If I’m ever fortunate enough to visit India, I would certainly add Khushwant Singh to that list. Though he was cremated, visiting his residence at Sujan Singh Park would be a dream come true.
What stood out most were his interactions with the people—Muslims and Hindus alike. There’s humor in his writing, whether he's describing a veiled beauty with swaying hips or a fleeting eye-lock with a girl on a motorbike at a red light. The author also shares candid conversations with Indian Muslims about their life and views on Pakistan. It was, perhaps predictably, sobering to read how the average Indian perceives Pakistan.
I especially appreciated his efforts to track down and connect with people from his native Dera Ismail Khan, spending meaningful time with a few surviving members of that diaspora.
This book is a first-hand, honest, and casual account of someone who visited four Indian cities. The flow is natural, and the narrative is easy to follow. The print quality is excellent, and the book is peppered with photographs—taken by the author himself—which bring the journey to life visually.
I also learned that Shueyb sahib has traveled to over 100 countries. That, in itself, is impressive. I, on the other hand, have visited only a dozen. And though I know I may never get the chance to go to India—especially given recent political developments—the desire still lives deep within me. After reading Coming Back, that longing has only grown stronger.
Just a few days later, as I turned the final pages of Naguib Mahfouz’s Children of the Alley, I found myself wondering what to read next. It was almost midnight. I knew the hangover from Mahfouz’s novel would linger for a few days—unless I could find something equally engaging to fill the void. Lazily, I rummaged through my bedside table and found Coming Back, still in its plastic wrapping, delivered only a day earlier. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Normally, I don’t jump straight into another book, but this time was different. Within five minutes of finishing Mahfouz, I had started reading Shueyb’s book. Before I knew it, I was 35 pages in. Despite my drowsiness, I found it hard to put down—and so I kept reading, much to my wife’s chagrin. By the following evening, I had finished the book in just three sittings, and thus, this review.
The beginning of the book is what truly hooked me. The author writes with disarming honesty about why he chose to travel to India. Reading about his journey from the visa application process to landing in India—and eventually returning—I found myself drawing inevitable parallels between the two countries. There’s an intrinsic curiosity many Pakistanis feel toward India (and vice versa, I imagine), and this book taps right into that.
Shueyb sahib’s writing is simple, yet engaging. The travelogue flows sequentially from his arrival in India to his departure, covering cities, historical landmarks, street encounters, food, shopping, and more. It takes a keen observer to take in the details of their surroundings, but to express those observations with emotion and nuance—that’s what makes this book special.
I could vividly imagine him walking the streets of Delhi, gazing at the Qutub Minar, visiting shamshanghats, admiring Mughal-era architecture, sipping chai in glass cups, and even daring to enter a temple reserved for Hindus—only to be questioned by a Sadhu.
His account of visiting Ghalib’s haveli and the grave of his idol, Qurat-ul-Ain, was particularly moving. If I’m ever fortunate enough to visit India, I would certainly add Khushwant Singh to that list. Though he was cremated, visiting his residence at Sujan Singh Park would be a dream come true.
What stood out most were his interactions with the people—Muslims and Hindus alike. There’s humor in his writing, whether he's describing a veiled beauty with swaying hips or a fleeting eye-lock with a girl on a motorbike at a red light. The author also shares candid conversations with Indian Muslims about their life and views on Pakistan. It was, perhaps predictably, sobering to read how the average Indian perceives Pakistan.
I especially appreciated his efforts to track down and connect with people from his native Dera Ismail Khan, spending meaningful time with a few surviving members of that diaspora.
This book is a first-hand, honest, and casual account of someone who visited four Indian cities. The flow is natural, and the narrative is easy to follow. The print quality is excellent, and the book is peppered with photographs—taken by the author himself—which bring the journey to life visually.
I also learned that Shueyb sahib has traveled to over 100 countries. That, in itself, is impressive. I, on the other hand, have visited only a dozen. And though I know I may never get the chance to go to India—especially given recent political developments—the desire still lives deep within me. After reading Coming Back, that longing has only grown stronger.
May 2, 2025
Coming Back is a beautifully written account of Shueyb's visit of 4 Indian cities: Delhi, Jaipur, Agra and Benaras. Yes, you may have read many accounts before of these cities, but never like this one. Interestingly, as opposed to the title, this was his first visit to India. Then why this title? I won't reveal because the title has its own story to be read.
While Shueyb visits regular tourist attractions, his view and depth of vision goes beyond what's in front. On top of it all, his simple, fluid storytelling makes this travelogue different. If you love travel and reading travel writing, you just cannot miss this travelogue/reportage.
It reminds me of Qurratulain Hyder's reportages. It's no wonder that glimpses of QHyder's style make appearances because he worships at the altar of the goddess. You will find her in this book, too. Also, the sociological and quasi-political obserbvations remind me of William Darymple's earliest works as a travel writer-- The Age of Kali, in particular.
When Shueyb is not visiting touristy places, he turns his attention to people, finding links to his hometown Dera Ismail Khan and little details and dangerous adventures. Trust me when it comes to observation, nothing escapes his keen eyes. And bravado to embark on adventures is like Sindbad's. You will find out in Coming Back.
This reportage offers stories, places, people, satire and humour, even a passing glimpse of potential romance. However, all are very subtle and soft, just like the personality of the writer.
A word about Shueyb's other talents. The cover is painted by him. Yes, he is a good water-colourists who only paints for himself. And the photographs in the book are a visual counterpart of his writing: intriguing, unique, elegant and stories unto themselves. Shueyb is a brilliant photographer, too, along with a short story writer and translator of Pashto poetry in Urdu and English. Surely a man of many talents, and few spoken words!
I can safely say this the best of travel writing ever cane out of Pakistan, in both Urdu and English. "Absolutely unputdownable, " in the words of Bunto Kazmi, designer par excellence, and a voracious reader and fond traveller.
While Shueyb visits regular tourist attractions, his view and depth of vision goes beyond what's in front. On top of it all, his simple, fluid storytelling makes this travelogue different. If you love travel and reading travel writing, you just cannot miss this travelogue/reportage.
It reminds me of Qurratulain Hyder's reportages. It's no wonder that glimpses of QHyder's style make appearances because he worships at the altar of the goddess. You will find her in this book, too. Also, the sociological and quasi-political obserbvations remind me of William Darymple's earliest works as a travel writer-- The Age of Kali, in particular.
When Shueyb is not visiting touristy places, he turns his attention to people, finding links to his hometown Dera Ismail Khan and little details and dangerous adventures. Trust me when it comes to observation, nothing escapes his keen eyes. And bravado to embark on adventures is like Sindbad's. You will find out in Coming Back.
This reportage offers stories, places, people, satire and humour, even a passing glimpse of potential romance. However, all are very subtle and soft, just like the personality of the writer.
A word about Shueyb's other talents. The cover is painted by him. Yes, he is a good water-colourists who only paints for himself. And the photographs in the book are a visual counterpart of his writing: intriguing, unique, elegant and stories unto themselves. Shueyb is a brilliant photographer, too, along with a short story writer and translator of Pashto poetry in Urdu and English. Surely a man of many talents, and few spoken words!
I can safely say this the best of travel writing ever cane out of Pakistan, in both Urdu and English. "Absolutely unputdownable, " in the words of Bunto Kazmi, designer par excellence, and a voracious reader and fond traveller.
October 14, 2025
⚫️Shueyb Gandapur's "Coming Back" is a beautifully crafted travel memoir that transcends geographical, political, and historical boundaries to explore what it truly means to be connected not just to a nation, but to people, memories, and the echoes of our ancestors.
⚫️From the very first pages, Gandapur's honest and reflective voice pulls you in. He’s acutely aware of the weight that partition and years of separation have placed on countless lives, but rather than rehashing political grievances, he focuses on the threads of human connection. As he travels across India venturing into both bustling cities and quiet towns he uncovers shared cultural elements, languages, foods, music, family traditions, and dreams that resonate deeply with his own experiences in Pakistan.
⚫️One of the standout features of "Coming Back" is the author’s emotional transparency. When he shares his moments of doubt like the apprehension of crossing a border or wondering how he’ll be received those feelings are palpable. Yet, he also allows those moments of tension to transform into warmth. His reunions with long-lost friends, the stories of families torn apart by borders, and the generosity of people who welcome him into their homes and hearts all illustrate how, despite the divisions imposed by politics, human connections can flourish.
⚫️The narrative strikes a thoughtful balance: Gandapur doesn’t sugarcoat anything. He examines differences be they religious, political, or social with a discerning eye. He acknowledges the realities of travel, the occasional cultural disconnect, and the feeling of being an "other" in a place that feels both familiar and foreign. These complexities enrich the book, making it more than just a typical travelogue; it’s a profound exploration of identity, loss, hope, and the possibility of reconciliation.
What’s particularly captivating is how Gandapur frames "return" not merely as a physical journey, but as a deeper, more emotional experience.
Happy reading ❤️✨
August 14, 2025
#bookreview
This book, "Coming Back" by Shueyb Gandapur is a heartfelt and fascinating travel memoir which takes us on an exciting journey of the author who was able to bring forth 'better' and 'vibrant' India in quite a little time he had here.
The author has very beautifully penned down every moment from landing in Airport to visiting four beautiful places to his final departure.
As a native pakistani, the author's journey is not just about visiting monuments or tasting indian foods but it's more about reclaiming shared heritage, confronting prejudice and rediscovering connections in a place shaped by partition, political divides and decades of mistrust.
Major highlights of this travel memoir includes :
1. Very compassionate and fascinating account
2. Quaint and exquisite observations
3. Interesting and absorbing experiences and incidents
4. Travellogue which feels like reading Al biruni, Ibn battuta or many such travellers
5. An honest travelogue without any prejudice
6. Very Inquisitive tone
7. And most importantly, aesthetic and vibrant portraits and shots...
A great exploration of a promising land and ancestral connections with exciting historical insights which does earn him the title - ' the compassionate traveller'.
The author experiences here both warmth and hostility; openness and exclusion in the air and above all shared values, language, people and culture which still binds us together.
So, if you believe borders are just lines on a map and stories can bridge what politics divides then this book will leave an indelible mark in your heart and soul.
This is a must read for everyone who has a crave for cosmopolitan themes. This one is an eye opening, soul stirring and heartwarming travel memoir.
Book : Coming Back
Author : Shueyb Gandapur
Genre : #travelogue #travelmemoir
Rating : 5/5
This book, "Coming Back" by Shueyb Gandapur is a heartfelt and fascinating travel memoir which takes us on an exciting journey of the author who was able to bring forth 'better' and 'vibrant' India in quite a little time he had here.
The author has very beautifully penned down every moment from landing in Airport to visiting four beautiful places to his final departure.
As a native pakistani, the author's journey is not just about visiting monuments or tasting indian foods but it's more about reclaiming shared heritage, confronting prejudice and rediscovering connections in a place shaped by partition, political divides and decades of mistrust.
Major highlights of this travel memoir includes :
1. Very compassionate and fascinating account
2. Quaint and exquisite observations
3. Interesting and absorbing experiences and incidents
4. Travellogue which feels like reading Al biruni, Ibn battuta or many such travellers
5. An honest travelogue without any prejudice
6. Very Inquisitive tone
7. And most importantly, aesthetic and vibrant portraits and shots...
A great exploration of a promising land and ancestral connections with exciting historical insights which does earn him the title - ' the compassionate traveller'.
The author experiences here both warmth and hostility; openness and exclusion in the air and above all shared values, language, people and culture which still binds us together.
So, if you believe borders are just lines on a map and stories can bridge what politics divides then this book will leave an indelible mark in your heart and soul.
This is a must read for everyone who has a crave for cosmopolitan themes. This one is an eye opening, soul stirring and heartwarming travel memoir.
Book : Coming Back
Author : Shueyb Gandapur
Genre : #travelogue #travelmemoir
Rating : 5/5
October 11, 2025
Coming Back by Shueyb Gandapur is more than a travel memoir—it’s a bridge between divided lands and divided hearts. With the eyes of a curious traveler and the honesty of someone who carries history within him, Gandapur takes us across Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi. But the real journey isn’t just about monuments—it’s about memories, conversations, and those unexpected connections that remind us how deeply India and Pakistan remain tied.
What makes this book shine is its simplicity and sincerity. The author doesn’t fall into stereotypes or over-romanticize what he sees. Instead, he notices the little things—a street name that brings a smile, prayers echoing from both temples and mosques, or the warmth of strangers who feel both familiar and foreign at the same time. These small yet powerful details give the book a rare intimacy that no tourist guide could ever capture.
At its heart, Coming Back is about daring to step across borders thickened by decades of politics, and searching for common ground. Gandapur is honest about the unease of being a Pakistani in India, yet he beautifully captures the joy of shared words, flavors, and forgotten memories that refuse to be erased. His writing reminds us that beyond all divides, human connection remains the strongest bond.
This is not a loud, dramatic book—it’s gentle, thoughtful, and deeply human. It lingers less on spectacle and more on the emotional terrain of belonging, estrangement, and reunion. Reading it feels like traveling alongside the author, not just through India’s cities but through the heart of South Asia itself. For anyone interested in identity, history, or the quiet ways in which people reach across divides, Coming Back is truly a moving and necessary read.
What makes this book shine is its simplicity and sincerity. The author doesn’t fall into stereotypes or over-romanticize what he sees. Instead, he notices the little things—a street name that brings a smile, prayers echoing from both temples and mosques, or the warmth of strangers who feel both familiar and foreign at the same time. These small yet powerful details give the book a rare intimacy that no tourist guide could ever capture.
At its heart, Coming Back is about daring to step across borders thickened by decades of politics, and searching for common ground. Gandapur is honest about the unease of being a Pakistani in India, yet he beautifully captures the joy of shared words, flavors, and forgotten memories that refuse to be erased. His writing reminds us that beyond all divides, human connection remains the strongest bond.
This is not a loud, dramatic book—it’s gentle, thoughtful, and deeply human. It lingers less on spectacle and more on the emotional terrain of belonging, estrangement, and reunion. Reading it feels like traveling alongside the author, not just through India’s cities but through the heart of South Asia itself. For anyone interested in identity, history, or the quiet ways in which people reach across divides, Coming Back is truly a moving and necessary read.
October 13, 2025
From the very first page, Coming Back feels like more than just a travelogue — it’s an emotional bridge between two nations divided by politics yet united by heart. The title itself sparks curiosity and nostalgia, and as you begin reading, you’re immediately drawn into the author’s world filled with warmth, reflection, and humanity. His journey through Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi goes far beyond sightseeing — it’s a rediscovery of shared roots and hidden connections between India and Pakistan.
Shueyb Gandapur’s storytelling is vivid, sincere, and deeply humane. Instead of merely describing monuments, he captures the rhythm of life — the prayers echoing from temples and mosques, the stories of forgotten communities like the Derawalas and Hindu Pashtuns, and the tender memories that transcend borders. His writing flows like a calm river — gentle yet profound — carrying a timeless message that empathy and understanding can heal even the deepest divides. The book’s core theme of unity through compassion makes it a soulful exploration of identity and belonging.
Reading Coming Back felt like embarking on a heartfelt journey across two lands that mirror each other more than they realize. The author’s humility and openness make every encounter come alive, reminding us that history lives not just in monuments but in people and their stories. It’s a rare gem — a narrative that celebrates humanity with grace and truth. By the end, you’re left inspired and hopeful, reminded that while borders may divide land, they can never divide hearts. A must-read for every believer in the power of stories to bring the world closer.
Shueyb Gandapur’s storytelling is vivid, sincere, and deeply humane. Instead of merely describing monuments, he captures the rhythm of life — the prayers echoing from temples and mosques, the stories of forgotten communities like the Derawalas and Hindu Pashtuns, and the tender memories that transcend borders. His writing flows like a calm river — gentle yet profound — carrying a timeless message that empathy and understanding can heal even the deepest divides. The book’s core theme of unity through compassion makes it a soulful exploration of identity and belonging.
Reading Coming Back felt like embarking on a heartfelt journey across two lands that mirror each other more than they realize. The author’s humility and openness make every encounter come alive, reminding us that history lives not just in monuments but in people and their stories. It’s a rare gem — a narrative that celebrates humanity with grace and truth. By the end, you’re left inspired and hopeful, reminded that while borders may divide land, they can never divide hearts. A must-read for every believer in the power of stories to bring the world closer.
May 19, 2025
کتاب کی ابتدائی سطروں نے فوراً مجھے اپنی گرفت میں لے لیا۔ مصنف پوری صاف گوئی سے بتاتے ہیں کہ ویزا قطاروں میں کھڑے ہونے سے لے کر وطن واپسی کی فلائٹ تک کیا کچھ پیش آیا—اور یہی صاف دِلی پاک‑بھارت کے مشترکہ تجسس کو تازہ کر دیتی ہے۔ شعیب کی سادہ مگر دل آویز نثر ہمیں چار بھارتی شہروں کی ترتیب وار سیر کراتی ہے، جہاں عمارتیں، کھانے اور راہ چلتے لمحے سبھی منظرنامہ بن جاتے ہیں۔ چھوٹی چھوٹی جزئیات دل کو چھو لیتی ہیں: شیشے کے گلاس میں چائے، سورج کی کرنوں میں چمکتے قطب مینار، اور ہندوؤں کے لیے مخصوص مندر میں سوالات کرتا ہوا سادھو۔
غالب کی حویلی اور اُن کی ہیرو قرۃ العین حیدر کی قبر پر حاضری کا ذکر خاص طور پر پُراثر ہے۔ لیکن سب سے زیادہ دیرپا تاثر اُن کے لوگوں سے ہونے والے ملنے ملانے کا ہے۔ طنز و مزاح ہر صفحے کو رنگ دیتا ہے—چاہے وہ نقاب پوش حسینہ کی پر وقار چال بیان کریں یا ٹریفک سگنل پر موٹر بائیک سوار لڑکی سے لمحاتی آئن کانٹیکٹ۔ بھارتی مسلمانوں سے روزمرہ زندگی اور پاکستان بارے خیالات پر ہونے والی گفتگو بےتکلف اور کبھی کبھی تلخ حقیقتوں سے آشنا کرتی ہے۔
یہ سفرنامہ صرف راستوں اور عمارتوں کا بیان نہیں بلکہ دلوں کے بیچ پل باندھنے کی ایک سنجیدہ کوشش بھی ہے۔ صفحہ بہ صفحہ محسوس ہوتا ہے کہ سرحدیں انسانوں کی اصل کہانی کو محدود نہیں کر سکتیں۔ مشترکہ تہذیب، زبان اور موسیقی ہر موڑ پر جھلک دکھاتی ہے—چاہے وہ دہلی کی پرہجوم گلی ہو یا لکھنؤ کے کسی قدیم بازار کی مہک۔ شعیب بتاتے ہیں کہ کس طرح ایک معمولی چائے والا بھی دوستی اور اپنائیت سے پیش آ کر برسوں کی دوری کو پلک جھپکتے مٹا دیتا ہے۔
آخر میں مصنف ہمیں اِس یقین کے ساتھ رخصت کرتا ہے کہ مسافتیں صرف جغرافیے میں ہوتی ہیں، دلوں میں نہیں۔ کمنگ بیک پڑھ کر یوں لگتا ہے جیسے آپ نے بھی مصنف کے ساتھ وہ سارے قدم اٹھائے ہوں، وہی گلیاں دیکھی ہوں، وہی ذائقے چکھے ہوں۔ اگر آپ نئی جگہوں کی سیر، ادب کی گہرائی اور بین الثقافتی روابط کی حرارت ایک ساتھ محسوس کرنا چاہتے ہیں تو یہ کتاب ضرور پڑھیں؛ ممکن ہے یہ آپ کے دل میں بھی سرحد پار سفر کی نئی چنگاری بھڑکا دے۔
مجھے یہ بات بھی خوب لگی کہ انہوں نے ڈیرہ اسماعیل خان کے ہم بسطیوں کو ڈھونڈا اور بھارت میں رہ جانے والے چند افراد کے ساتھ معنی خیز وقت گزارا۔ مصنف کی خود کھینچی ہوئی تصویروں اور عمدہ طباعت نے کمنگ بیک کو سفرناموں کی ایک رواں، سچی خط و کتابت بنا دیا ہے
غالب کی حویلی اور اُن کی ہیرو قرۃ العین حیدر کی قبر پر حاضری کا ذکر خاص طور پر پُراثر ہے۔ لیکن سب سے زیادہ دیرپا تاثر اُن کے لوگوں سے ہونے والے ملنے ملانے کا ہے۔ طنز و مزاح ہر صفحے کو رنگ دیتا ہے—چاہے وہ نقاب پوش حسینہ کی پر وقار چال بیان کریں یا ٹریفک سگنل پر موٹر بائیک سوار لڑکی سے لمحاتی آئن کانٹیکٹ۔ بھارتی مسلمانوں سے روزمرہ زندگی اور پاکستان بارے خیالات پر ہونے والی گفتگو بےتکلف اور کبھی کبھی تلخ حقیقتوں سے آشنا کرتی ہے۔
یہ سفرنامہ صرف راستوں اور عمارتوں کا بیان نہیں بلکہ دلوں کے بیچ پل باندھنے کی ایک سنجیدہ کوشش بھی ہے۔ صفحہ بہ صفحہ محسوس ہوتا ہے کہ سرحدیں انسانوں کی اصل کہانی کو محدود نہیں کر سکتیں۔ مشترکہ تہذیب، زبان اور موسیقی ہر موڑ پر جھلک دکھاتی ہے—چاہے وہ دہلی کی پرہجوم گلی ہو یا لکھنؤ کے کسی قدیم بازار کی مہک۔ شعیب بتاتے ہیں کہ کس طرح ایک معمولی چائے والا بھی دوستی اور اپنائیت سے پیش آ کر برسوں کی دوری کو پلک جھپکتے مٹا دیتا ہے۔
آخر میں مصنف ہمیں اِس یقین کے ساتھ رخصت کرتا ہے کہ مسافتیں صرف جغرافیے میں ہوتی ہیں، دلوں میں نہیں۔ کمنگ بیک پڑھ کر یوں لگتا ہے جیسے آپ نے بھی مصنف کے ساتھ وہ سارے قدم اٹھائے ہوں، وہی گلیاں دیکھی ہوں، وہی ذائقے چکھے ہوں۔ اگر آپ نئی جگہوں کی سیر، ادب کی گہرائی اور بین الثقافتی روابط کی حرارت ایک ساتھ محسوس کرنا چاہتے ہیں تو یہ کتاب ضرور پڑھیں؛ ممکن ہے یہ آپ کے دل میں بھی سرحد پار سفر کی نئی چنگاری بھڑکا دے۔
مجھے یہ بات بھی خوب لگی کہ انہوں نے ڈیرہ اسماعیل خان کے ہم بسطیوں کو ڈھونڈا اور بھارت میں رہ جانے والے چند افراد کے ساتھ معنی خیز وقت گزارا۔ مصنف کی خود کھینچی ہوئی تصویروں اور عمدہ طباعت نے کمنگ بیک کو سفرناموں کی ایک رواں، سچی خط و کتابت بنا دیا ہے
August 25, 2025
Coming Back is an evocative travel memoir that beautifully captures the emotional and cultural ties between Pakistan and India, going beyond politics to highlight the shared heritage of two nations. Written from the perspective of a Pakistani traveler in India, the book explores how traditions, languages, cuisines, and values remain strikingly similar despite decades of division. Unlike a typical travel account, it reflects the author’s deeper motivation—a quest for belonging, reconciliation, and connection with the other side of history. Through vivid observations of daily life, from bustling city streets to the warmth of village hospitality, the narrative highlights both the familiar and the distinct. The most powerful passages lie in the emotional reunions with people separated during Partition, reminding readers of the enduring strength of bonds that time and politics could not erase. Skillfully weaving personal anecdotes with historical reflections, the memoir shows how the legacy of Partition continues to shape identities today, while also proving that human connections remain resilient across borders. It encourages reflection on identity, home, and belonging, while serving as a symbolic bridge of empathy between two estranged nations. In conclusion, Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani through India is a moving and powerful memoir that blends history with heartfelt storytelling, reminding us that while borders divide, they cannot erase the bonds of humanity—an essential read for anyone interested in South Asia, history, and the stories that connect us.
August 16, 2025
A horizon-expanding read
This book presents a unique and fascinating perspective of India and its relationship with Pakistan. These two countries have been at odds since the latter’s inception, making visits extremely difficult and in some cases, dangerous. Despite the risks, the author, Shueyb, has been obsessed with the desire to visit the land of his ancestors since childhood. Shueyb details the many restrictions placed on Pakistani citizens wishing to visit India, including check-ins with local authorities and extra paperwork that hotels must submit, just for housing someone from Pakistan. In contrast, the people he met along the way exhibited a wide range of reactions to his presence, from fear to hospitality to camaraderie, in the case of Indian Muslims.
Shueyb also tells of the rich culture he experienced in India. Included in his anecdotes are some nerve-wracking tales of times he hid his Muslim heritage in order to participate in local traditions. This was a fascinating and horizon-expanding read.
This book presents a unique and fascinating perspective of India and its relationship with Pakistan. These two countries have been at odds since the latter’s inception, making visits extremely difficult and in some cases, dangerous. Despite the risks, the author, Shueyb, has been obsessed with the desire to visit the land of his ancestors since childhood. Shueyb details the many restrictions placed on Pakistani citizens wishing to visit India, including check-ins with local authorities and extra paperwork that hotels must submit, just for housing someone from Pakistan. In contrast, the people he met along the way exhibited a wide range of reactions to his presence, from fear to hospitality to camaraderie, in the case of Indian Muslims.
Shueyb also tells of the rich culture he experienced in India. Included in his anecdotes are some nerve-wracking tales of times he hid his Muslim heritage in order to participate in local traditions. This was a fascinating and horizon-expanding read.
August 17, 2025
Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani through India by Shueyb Gandapur is an engaging memoir and travelogue that stands out for mixing up the genres, travel writing with cultural & personal reflection. What starts off as a leisurely contemplation of a two-and-a-half-week journey develops into an intricate, multi-layered reportage on the common birth and separate lives of India vs. Pakistan (or Pakistan vis. India).
His descriptions are rich and inviting, detailing the loveable chaotic Indian streets, the heartrending generosity of created connections and the melancholic thread running through an elapsed together past. It all feels genuine; like it's pulled from personal experience and not second-hand clichés.
The tone of reflection is what stands out the most. Although Gandapur acknowledges the tense political environment, he finds instances of compassion, cooperation, and respect for one another. The story is given a full-circle poignancy by the poignant final chapters, in which he returns to his hometown with a fresh perspective.
This book stays with us, reminding us that human stories are what bind us together, not national boundaries or news headlines.
His descriptions are rich and inviting, detailing the loveable chaotic Indian streets, the heartrending generosity of created connections and the melancholic thread running through an elapsed together past. It all feels genuine; like it's pulled from personal experience and not second-hand clichés.
The tone of reflection is what stands out the most. Although Gandapur acknowledges the tense political environment, he finds instances of compassion, cooperation, and respect for one another. The story is given a full-circle poignancy by the poignant final chapters, in which he returns to his hometown with a fresh perspective.
This book stays with us, reminding us that human stories are what bind us together, not national boundaries or news headlines.
August 1, 2025
This book is more than a travel guide, it is a view behind the scenes of the India and Pakistan region – with its astonishing landmarks but also its difficult history and political realities. Reading this book I was impressed by the magnificence of the rich cultural heritage of some of the most iconic places in India, I nearly felt the smell of the places and I tapped into mentality and thinking of locals, while admiring the courage of the author to overcome the borders of convenient, e.g. openly stating his identity as a Pakistani, entering Hindu monuments while being a non-Hindu and going to places beyond where you would expect a tourist to go. Connecting his observations with political conflicts of the last decades and the history of author’s own family, this book creates a unique link between history, culture and people of this incredible region. A must read for those who travel with open eyes and dare to look behind the facade.
July 20, 2025
Coming Back is a sincere and thought-provoking travel memoir that offers a rare perspective on India through the eyes of a Pakistani traveler. More than just a journey across cities, it’s a personal exploration of shared heritage, memory, and the complexities of identity in a post-Partition world. His reflections on language, culture, and the quiet power of human connection are both moving and insightful. It’s a compact but meaningful read that leaves a lasting impression.
July 19, 2025
I mean, this was not just a book. It was also time travel. Plus the different food items mentioned in the entire book.😍
From chai in kulhad cups to emotional reunions with long-lost communities, every chapter feels like a step closer to something whole. A must-read for anyone curious about identity, belonging, and the invisible threads that tie people across borders.
From chai in kulhad cups to emotional reunions with long-lost communities, every chapter feels like a step closer to something whole. A must-read for anyone curious about identity, belonging, and the invisible threads that tie people across borders.
August 12, 2025
India and Pakistan. There are few countries so tied at the hip, culturally and linguistically; yet so far apart politically. Born out of the same turbulent cauldron in 1947, bilateral relations have ranged from cold to downright hostile. With so few people of Pakistani origin able to visit India, Shueyb’s debut book offers a tantalizing first-person account of a trip to India through the eyes of a Pakistani traveler. Sensitive, curious, introspective, and always respectful and open-minded, Shueyb makes his way through India, discovering the many threads that connect the two countries. Not just the obvious cultural ones, but the ones that hold personal fascination for him—namely, the Urdu language and his Pashtun heritage. In fact, this is what makes this book so unique. Unlike other travelogues, Shueyb’s book eschews dry facts and observations. Whether it is connecting with Hindu Pashtuns living in India (and igniting memories of a forgotten language and culture in them), visiting Qurratulain Hyder’s grave, or meeting the descendants of those that had migrated from his hometown Dera Ismail Khan to Delhi during Partition, Shueyb’s writing is warm, engaging, and deeply personal. The book keeps referring to its central theme of "coming back"—something that is both literal and metaphorical. Even though this is Shueyb's first visit to India, there is a haunting sense of familiarity that belies the separate trajectories taken by the two nations. This is perhaps the most poignant takeaway from this book; namely, shrill political rhetoric and closed borders cannot sever the many obvious and subtle ways in which the two nations are connected—both historically and in the present. However, it is not all sweetness and light. At times, he holds a mirror to his Indian readers, gently reminding them of the ways in which India is losing the many aspects that make India unique, beautiful, and inclusive. Illustrated by Shueyb himself and showcasing many of his own photos, this is a page-turner that I devoured from start to finish.
May 9, 2025
“Coming Back”, a compelling travelogue, from the onset to the end, is a delightful page-turner. Shuyeb masterfully paints a vivid tapestry of the monuments and iconic landmarks, along side some lesser known gems, immersing the reader in each location with a remarkable tactile clarity. So many times I felt transported to the scene. The humor quips are not only entertaining but also provide a deeper connection to the comparison that is often drawn of the visited country with home. The insertion of poetry couplets add a layer of poignancy to the narrative. As Shuyeb delves into the complexities of his ancestry, and finds others trying to find answers of the same questions, the sentiments expressed leave an indelible impact on the reader.
November 4, 2025
An interesting read from perspective of a common person. A travelogue to a country which should not be foreign to its neighbour.
May 23, 2025
“Coming Back” by Shueyb Gandapur is not just a book — it’s an emotional odyssey that pulls you into the depths of human experience and resilience. The storytelling is rich, layered, and beautifully introspective. Gandapur masterfully crafts characters that feel achingly real, with raw emotions and inner struggles that echo long after the final page.
What makes this book truly stand out is how it weaves themes of loss, healing, and identity with such poetic depth. Every chapter feels intentional, each moment building toward a profound understanding of what it means to come back — not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally.
The prose is eloquent yet accessible, and the pacing keeps you engaged while giving you space to reflect. It’s one of those rare reads that makes you pause, think, and see parts of yourself in the journey.
If you’re looking for a book that moves you, challenges you, and stays with you, Coming Back is a must-read. This isn’t just a story — it’s an experience.
What makes this book truly stand out is how it weaves themes of loss, healing, and identity with such poetic depth. Every chapter feels intentional, each moment building toward a profound understanding of what it means to come back — not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally.
The prose is eloquent yet accessible, and the pacing keeps you engaged while giving you space to reflect. It’s one of those rare reads that makes you pause, think, and see parts of yourself in the journey.
If you’re looking for a book that moves you, challenges you, and stays with you, Coming Back is a must-read. This isn’t just a story — it’s an experience.
October 18, 2025
-Discovering India Through the Eyes of a Pakistani: A Journey as Inward as it is Outward-
Review of 'Coming Back'
Quote Alert
"𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭! 𝐓𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦? 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞-𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝."
Coming Back is a travelogue. But this travel happens in multiple ways, on multiple paths, in multiple times. It's about as much as traveling inwards as it is about traveling outwards. As much as traveling in the now as it is about traveling in the 'then', the days that are nothing more than yellowing smudge of memories. It's as much about living the stories told by Babaji as it is about making new ones. As much about meeting new people as it is about bidding adieu to the ones who now live only in the stories, the ones that have been pushed out of the cradle of memories. The ones not even memories can hold. Because it takes two to make a memory. In the mind of just one, when it can't be shared, it's not a memory. It is reduced to a thought. And this travelogue is about taking those thoughts back into the backyard of memories. To meet people with shared histories. And to silently celebrate, lament, sigh and share together.
Coming Back is a stirrer of memories. Imagine it
to be a serving spoon, a karchi if you may. The author has poured his memories into a cauldron of travel. Have a look:
"A few months later, when I went back to my hometown, Dera Ismail Khan, wiser by the experiences gathered during my India trip, I looked at the crumbling houses, deserted temples and old neighbourhoods with more reverence and tenderness. They had once been inhabited and frequented by the city’s Hindu and Sikh residents, who were uprooted during the chaos of Partition, and now lived hundreds of miles away, remembering and commemorating what they had lost. I felt like I had completed a circle and incorporated those later impressions in my account."
Gandapur writes that books about Pakistanis visiting India and vice versa have been written before. Writers have spoken about the similarities and familiarities they found in unlikely places, but he realised that his personal experience had its own place in time and history, distinct from the perspective and experience of everyone else, so why should it not be heard by the people of the two countries as well as the wider world? It is fascinating that memories led him to this journey and the journey itself then will lead on to many memories.
The author has mixed nostalgic and memories into his narrative, starting right from the beginning when the first stirrings of going and seeing India woke up in him. Here tol, Bollywood movies seem to be the catalyst since they were one of the first exposures of the author to Hindi and India. The peculiar pronounciation of the word Amitabh and the similarity in Hindi and Urdu stand out in this passage:
"I remember the name of the film, “Mard”. My older cousins referred to the hero as “Meetaab”- that’s how my inexperienced ears captured the sound. Coming from a home with less permitting parents and having been exposed to nothing of the sort before, my mind as a child found the dances in the film a bit immodest and noticed that the characters spoke Urdu. Since I believed that Urdu was an exclusively Pakistani language, which was completely distinct in speech and text from Hindi, I could not understand why it was spoken in an Indian film. For many years after that, I did not find a satisfactory answer to this question. Were the films made for Pakistanis or was the language of Indians same as Urdu?"
In writing about his childhood, the author also bares a moral policing that happens on both sides of the border. He writes:
"The arrival of the internet was still many years away but the technologies for entertainment that did exist, like the video-cassette recorder (VCR) for example, were not permitted in my ultra-conservative religious household, because they were frowned upon as instruments designed to destroy the moral fabric of our society. The device was believed to be part of a conspiracy which involved the screening of Indian film tape imports in unsuspecting homes in the remotest corners of Pakistan and thus polluting the land of the pure. I was six or seven years old when I watched my first Indian film. It was at an uncle’s house in Peshawar, where my family was on a visit. In his house, the VCR was not viewed as a weapon of mass moral corruption."
This journey of nostalgia and memories that the author takes the readers even prior to the actual journey is as fascinating as the latter part of the travelogue. His experiences in India, particularly with VISA issues and how he skirted around him are hilarious and touching. As he comes across a shop, he writes:
"The sense of belonging and familiarity encapsulated within that sentence disarmed me. It might have been merely said for the sake of luring a customer to the shop, but there was also something sincere and profound about it. The streets of old Delhi could have recognised me as the person whose imaginations had been visited by ideas of a rendezvous under the shadow of its walls. “Bade dinon baad aaye” became the mantra of my whole India sojourn."
All in all, it was refreshing to experience India through the eyes of someone who was born across the border.
Pick it up this festive season.
Review of 'Coming Back'
Quote Alert
"𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭! 𝐓𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐡𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧-𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦? 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞-𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝."
Coming Back is a travelogue. But this travel happens in multiple ways, on multiple paths, in multiple times. It's about as much as traveling inwards as it is about traveling outwards. As much as traveling in the now as it is about traveling in the 'then', the days that are nothing more than yellowing smudge of memories. It's as much about living the stories told by Babaji as it is about making new ones. As much about meeting new people as it is about bidding adieu to the ones who now live only in the stories, the ones that have been pushed out of the cradle of memories. The ones not even memories can hold. Because it takes two to make a memory. In the mind of just one, when it can't be shared, it's not a memory. It is reduced to a thought. And this travelogue is about taking those thoughts back into the backyard of memories. To meet people with shared histories. And to silently celebrate, lament, sigh and share together.
Coming Back is a stirrer of memories. Imagine it
to be a serving spoon, a karchi if you may. The author has poured his memories into a cauldron of travel. Have a look:
"A few months later, when I went back to my hometown, Dera Ismail Khan, wiser by the experiences gathered during my India trip, I looked at the crumbling houses, deserted temples and old neighbourhoods with more reverence and tenderness. They had once been inhabited and frequented by the city’s Hindu and Sikh residents, who were uprooted during the chaos of Partition, and now lived hundreds of miles away, remembering and commemorating what they had lost. I felt like I had completed a circle and incorporated those later impressions in my account."
Gandapur writes that books about Pakistanis visiting India and vice versa have been written before. Writers have spoken about the similarities and familiarities they found in unlikely places, but he realised that his personal experience had its own place in time and history, distinct from the perspective and experience of everyone else, so why should it not be heard by the people of the two countries as well as the wider world? It is fascinating that memories led him to this journey and the journey itself then will lead on to many memories.
The author has mixed nostalgic and memories into his narrative, starting right from the beginning when the first stirrings of going and seeing India woke up in him. Here tol, Bollywood movies seem to be the catalyst since they were one of the first exposures of the author to Hindi and India. The peculiar pronounciation of the word Amitabh and the similarity in Hindi and Urdu stand out in this passage:
"I remember the name of the film, “Mard”. My older cousins referred to the hero as “Meetaab”- that’s how my inexperienced ears captured the sound. Coming from a home with less permitting parents and having been exposed to nothing of the sort before, my mind as a child found the dances in the film a bit immodest and noticed that the characters spoke Urdu. Since I believed that Urdu was an exclusively Pakistani language, which was completely distinct in speech and text from Hindi, I could not understand why it was spoken in an Indian film. For many years after that, I did not find a satisfactory answer to this question. Were the films made for Pakistanis or was the language of Indians same as Urdu?"
In writing about his childhood, the author also bares a moral policing that happens on both sides of the border. He writes:
"The arrival of the internet was still many years away but the technologies for entertainment that did exist, like the video-cassette recorder (VCR) for example, were not permitted in my ultra-conservative religious household, because they were frowned upon as instruments designed to destroy the moral fabric of our society. The device was believed to be part of a conspiracy which involved the screening of Indian film tape imports in unsuspecting homes in the remotest corners of Pakistan and thus polluting the land of the pure. I was six or seven years old when I watched my first Indian film. It was at an uncle’s house in Peshawar, where my family was on a visit. In his house, the VCR was not viewed as a weapon of mass moral corruption."
This journey of nostalgia and memories that the author takes the readers even prior to the actual journey is as fascinating as the latter part of the travelogue. His experiences in India, particularly with VISA issues and how he skirted around him are hilarious and touching. As he comes across a shop, he writes:
"The sense of belonging and familiarity encapsulated within that sentence disarmed me. It might have been merely said for the sake of luring a customer to the shop, but there was also something sincere and profound about it. The streets of old Delhi could have recognised me as the person whose imaginations had been visited by ideas of a rendezvous under the shadow of its walls. “Bade dinon baad aaye” became the mantra of my whole India sojourn."
All in all, it was refreshing to experience India through the eyes of someone who was born across the border.
Pick it up this festive season.
September 21, 2025
One of the strongest feelings I had after finishing this book was a deep desire to visit India. I read the book while narrating it to my younger sister and we loved the detail in describing the places and the author’s thoughts while exploring. It helped me imagine the world the author was walking through. The photographs brought the narration to life and made it more engaging.
The book’s final act of trying to find your roots in a ‘foreign’ land must have felt exciting. Seeing glimpses of Dera and then actually finding your ancestors’ descendants must have felt like coming home for sure. It was amazing to see the author connect these two pieces of lands that seemingly despise each other but share so much in common.
I’ve never read a travel memoir before and I’m glad this was my first.
The book’s final act of trying to find your roots in a ‘foreign’ land must have felt exciting. Seeing glimpses of Dera and then actually finding your ancestors’ descendants must have felt like coming home for sure. It was amazing to see the author connect these two pieces of lands that seemingly despise each other but share so much in common.
I’ve never read a travel memoir before and I’m glad this was my first.
March 29, 2025
Shueyb Gandapur is a UK based chartered accountant who hails from Dera Ismail Khan, an irrepressible traveler who has visited many lands, and an ardent fan of the great Qurat-ul-Ain Haider. His freshly published travelogue based on his visit to India in 2017 provides compelling insights and impressions of a place that it is now unfortunately nearly impossible for Pakistanis to visit. The last of my own many memorable trips (thanks to close Indian friends, professional colleagues and many other fine and warm people) was in 2016 and even this account from a year later divulges considerable hardening of attitudes and greater reserve and suspicion amongst many towards visiting Pakistanis. Gandapur is a writer who is appreciably sensitive to the quality and texture of his interfaces and also objective, historically nuanced and generous in his assessment of his impressions and interactions. Stylistically the narrative is unembellished and straight-forward and neither chooses to pursue too deeply the analytical possibilities of his subject matter nor the evocative ones. However, in its natural and disarmingly everyday manner and style it neither lacks profundity nor wisdom.
Roaming in Delhi, Agra, Jaipur and Benares, while he provides fleeting but colourful pictures of the known sites and urban features (descriptions of the mystery and peculiar charm of Benares are particularly praiseworthy), his narrative is most engaging when he meets people - strangers as well as like-minded people befriended over social media who are being met for the first time. Identity, heritage, disruption, forced abandonment and roots are recurring themes in the book. While identifying similarities and differences between Pakistan and India he makes very interesting forays also to locate and contact the Derawal community (originally from Dera Ismail Khan) in Delhi as well as the distinctive and largely forgotten Hindu Pashtuns. Chapters dealing with these themes are where the traveler's own unique and rich identity truly comes to the fore and hence the engagements that he describes are especially emotional and emotive. The same sentiment is also on display when he embarks to learn more about the greatest of all Urdu novelists Qurat ul Ain Haider - something to which I can closely relate, having made a similar literary pilgrimage to pay my homage a few years earlier than Gandapur, along with my old friend, historian, eminent dastangoi pioneer, and fellow Haider devotee Mahmood Farooqui.
What is fairly noticeable is how often the writer makes a note of, appears affected by, and comments on the rise of hard-line politics, fast-spreading saffronisation and the more parochial popular attitudes that he encounters during his travels in an India which comes across as far less friendly and more suspicious than what I remember. At the same time, the book also quotes various instances of warmth, courtesy and hospitality. A travelogue depends as much, if not more than any other genre of writing, on the type of person who writes it - her cosmopolitanism or lack thereof, her world view, her breadth and depth of reading, her own questions of identity, how widely traveled a person she is - and it is difficult to disguise one's true self in travel writing. With an open mind and a willing heart, Gandapur embraces the places he travels to and the people he meets.
While documenting and at times being hurt by manifestations of the divides, prejudices, alienation, demonisation and bigotry that afflict humans everywhere, he divulges both considerable capacity to appreciate background reasons and contributory causes as well as to identify, dwell upon and then build on those salutary and uplifting sentiments and shared life experiences that bond us, bring us together, and teach us mutual respect and love as human, regardless of where we live. A palpable sensitivity and largesse thus permeates this book. As does a certain light-heartedness, wit and an appetite for sudden and unexpected romance.
I was struck by the attractive painting that adorns the cover and it turns out that Gandapur himself is the artist. The various attractive photographs in the book are also his. His rich palette of colors and emotions is therefore on display in more ways than one. This is an important and welcome addition to Pakistani travel writing. It is also a welcome contribution to Pakistani books in English by Book Corner Jhelum. I am heartened to see them broadening their list in this area.
I was fortunate to get an early look at the book. It should be available for sale early next month and I am sure will attract many appreciative readers.
Roaming in Delhi, Agra, Jaipur and Benares, while he provides fleeting but colourful pictures of the known sites and urban features (descriptions of the mystery and peculiar charm of Benares are particularly praiseworthy), his narrative is most engaging when he meets people - strangers as well as like-minded people befriended over social media who are being met for the first time. Identity, heritage, disruption, forced abandonment and roots are recurring themes in the book. While identifying similarities and differences between Pakistan and India he makes very interesting forays also to locate and contact the Derawal community (originally from Dera Ismail Khan) in Delhi as well as the distinctive and largely forgotten Hindu Pashtuns. Chapters dealing with these themes are where the traveler's own unique and rich identity truly comes to the fore and hence the engagements that he describes are especially emotional and emotive. The same sentiment is also on display when he embarks to learn more about the greatest of all Urdu novelists Qurat ul Ain Haider - something to which I can closely relate, having made a similar literary pilgrimage to pay my homage a few years earlier than Gandapur, along with my old friend, historian, eminent dastangoi pioneer, and fellow Haider devotee Mahmood Farooqui.
What is fairly noticeable is how often the writer makes a note of, appears affected by, and comments on the rise of hard-line politics, fast-spreading saffronisation and the more parochial popular attitudes that he encounters during his travels in an India which comes across as far less friendly and more suspicious than what I remember. At the same time, the book also quotes various instances of warmth, courtesy and hospitality. A travelogue depends as much, if not more than any other genre of writing, on the type of person who writes it - her cosmopolitanism or lack thereof, her world view, her breadth and depth of reading, her own questions of identity, how widely traveled a person she is - and it is difficult to disguise one's true self in travel writing. With an open mind and a willing heart, Gandapur embraces the places he travels to and the people he meets.
While documenting and at times being hurt by manifestations of the divides, prejudices, alienation, demonisation and bigotry that afflict humans everywhere, he divulges both considerable capacity to appreciate background reasons and contributory causes as well as to identify, dwell upon and then build on those salutary and uplifting sentiments and shared life experiences that bond us, bring us together, and teach us mutual respect and love as human, regardless of where we live. A palpable sensitivity and largesse thus permeates this book. As does a certain light-heartedness, wit and an appetite for sudden and unexpected romance.
I was struck by the attractive painting that adorns the cover and it turns out that Gandapur himself is the artist. The various attractive photographs in the book are also his. His rich palette of colors and emotions is therefore on display in more ways than one. This is an important and welcome addition to Pakistani travel writing. It is also a welcome contribution to Pakistani books in English by Book Corner Jhelum. I am heartened to see them broadening their list in this area.
I was fortunate to get an early look at the book. It should be available for sale early next month and I am sure will attract many appreciative readers.
October 23, 2025
I was at Book Corner Jhelum to buy another book when I saw this one on the counter. I picked it up, read the preface, and it immediately caught my attention. I’d heard people talk about the similarities between Pakistan and India, but reading about them from a Pakistani traveller in India, felt different. I flipped through a few pages and was genuinely awe-inspired, so instead of just the book I originally wanted, I bought this one too (along with a few others). That first book is still on my shelf, but I’ve already finished this one.
The book is very well written and an easy, engaging read. It feels deeply relatable. The similarities between the two countries are far greater than I expected, the advertisements, fashion, traditions, and so many other details felt familiar, almost like someone was writing about Pakistan itself. The mention of being ripe for mob lynching hit hard, sadly, Pakistan has a long and unfortunate history of that too. The story about holding a magazine in the same hands as her shoes, mistaken for a Quranic chapter, would likely have had an even harsher outcome here. There are several such moments that reflect a shared reality, even across borders.
And yet, the book also highlights the differences. The “us and them” mentality the author talks about early on shows how some divides were shaped by time, while others were forced upon us to create a sense of separation.
Overall, it was a very good read, one of those books you can start and just keep going until the end. The mentions of Punjabi culture, poetry, and quotes touched me in a way I hadn’t felt before. The reference to Seraiki surprised me too, I never imagined it still existed in parts of India, Punjab, or even Urdu. It’s heartening to see people like Shilpi who care deeply about their roots and bring something meaningful out of them. Both through their documentaries and through this book, they explored their past in a beautiful way.
This book also made me want to explore new authors. I’ll definitely read Qurratulain Hyder to understand what about her writing inspired the author to go so far as to find her resting place and dedicate part of the book to her. I plan to read others mentioned as well. I don’t usually read Urdu books, but Shoaib has changed that a little for me.
At the end, the author wonders what if the Partition had never happened, a question with no real answer. None of us can truly know. What we have now is just one possible outcome among countless paths.
There’s so much more in this book that you can only truly experience by reading it yourself. It’s a wonderful and thought-provoking read.
The book is very well written and an easy, engaging read. It feels deeply relatable. The similarities between the two countries are far greater than I expected, the advertisements, fashion, traditions, and so many other details felt familiar, almost like someone was writing about Pakistan itself. The mention of being ripe for mob lynching hit hard, sadly, Pakistan has a long and unfortunate history of that too. The story about holding a magazine in the same hands as her shoes, mistaken for a Quranic chapter, would likely have had an even harsher outcome here. There are several such moments that reflect a shared reality, even across borders.
And yet, the book also highlights the differences. The “us and them” mentality the author talks about early on shows how some divides were shaped by time, while others were forced upon us to create a sense of separation.
Overall, it was a very good read, one of those books you can start and just keep going until the end. The mentions of Punjabi culture, poetry, and quotes touched me in a way I hadn’t felt before. The reference to Seraiki surprised me too, I never imagined it still existed in parts of India, Punjab, or even Urdu. It’s heartening to see people like Shilpi who care deeply about their roots and bring something meaningful out of them. Both through their documentaries and through this book, they explored their past in a beautiful way.
This book also made me want to explore new authors. I’ll definitely read Qurratulain Hyder to understand what about her writing inspired the author to go so far as to find her resting place and dedicate part of the book to her. I plan to read others mentioned as well. I don’t usually read Urdu books, but Shoaib has changed that a little for me.
At the end, the author wonders what if the Partition had never happened, a question with no real answer. None of us can truly know. What we have now is just one possible outcome among countless paths.
There’s so much more in this book that you can only truly experience by reading it yourself. It’s a wonderful and thought-provoking read.
July 8, 2025
I picked up Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani Through India on a whim—the title immediately caught my attention. Many of my friends from Pakistan, with ancestral roots in India, are often curious about what it’s like to travel across the country. This book seemed to promise just that.
The author, inspired by childhood stories from his grandfather about their life in pre-independence Chhattisgarh, embarks on a deeply personal journey. Some of the most memorable moments for me were his visit to the Derawala community in Delhi, his encounter with the now-forgotten Hindu Pashtuns in Jaipur, his search for the grave of his favorite writer, Qurratulain Hyder, and a visit to Ghalib’s home.
That said, I wish the author had spent more time immersing himself in India and building meaningful connections with the people he met. Most of his interactions—usually brief exchanges on the street—felt superficial and lacked emotional depth. As one of the blurbs on the back cover states, “This book is full of interesting vignettes.” That description is apt—it’s a collection of short scenes, and nothing more.
What I found missing was the author’s inner world—his reflections, his emotional reactions, especially as someone traveling through India as a Pakistani. For instance, while visiting the Taj Mahal, he merely describes its architectural features—details we already know. What I hoped for was insight into how it felt to stand before such an iconic monument, especially given his background. What did it mean to him? How did it feel?
Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh, but I do believe Mr. Gandapur could have benefited from reading more substantive travel writing before embarking on this project. As it stands, the book often feels more like a travel brochure—light on narrative, heavy on photos.
I do want to sincerely thank Mr. Gandapur—a chartered accountant by profession—for making the journey to India and sharing his experiences, even though he is not a writer. His effort to bridge a long-divided geography deserves recognition, and I hope he continues to write and reflect more deeply in the future.
The author, inspired by childhood stories from his grandfather about their life in pre-independence Chhattisgarh, embarks on a deeply personal journey. Some of the most memorable moments for me were his visit to the Derawala community in Delhi, his encounter with the now-forgotten Hindu Pashtuns in Jaipur, his search for the grave of his favorite writer, Qurratulain Hyder, and a visit to Ghalib’s home.
That said, I wish the author had spent more time immersing himself in India and building meaningful connections with the people he met. Most of his interactions—usually brief exchanges on the street—felt superficial and lacked emotional depth. As one of the blurbs on the back cover states, “This book is full of interesting vignettes.” That description is apt—it’s a collection of short scenes, and nothing more.
What I found missing was the author’s inner world—his reflections, his emotional reactions, especially as someone traveling through India as a Pakistani. For instance, while visiting the Taj Mahal, he merely describes its architectural features—details we already know. What I hoped for was insight into how it felt to stand before such an iconic monument, especially given his background. What did it mean to him? How did it feel?
Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh, but I do believe Mr. Gandapur could have benefited from reading more substantive travel writing before embarking on this project. As it stands, the book often feels more like a travel brochure—light on narrative, heavy on photos.
I do want to sincerely thank Mr. Gandapur—a chartered accountant by profession—for making the journey to India and sharing his experiences, even though he is not a writer. His effort to bridge a long-divided geography deserves recognition, and I hope he continues to write and reflect more deeply in the future.
September 2, 2025
Picture yourself on a long train ride, raindrops racing down the window, and a travelogue resting in your hands. It's a feeling like no other.
Coming Back is a heartfelt account of a Pakistani man’s long cherished dream of visiting India, a desire that began in his childhood. Growing up in the conservative town of Dera Ismail Khan in the 1980s, he was surrounded by stories that often painted India as the “enemy.” Yet, this demonization only deepened his curiosity. Why did Indian films use Urdu, a language he believed to be uniquely Pakistani? Why did his grandfather speak of a childhood in the same land that was now divided? These questions, mixed with personal family ties to India, pushed him to search for the truth behind the border.
The book also reveals the harsh realities of cross border travel. The author describes the exhausting visa process that required detailed family histories, restrictions to four cities, and the need to report to the police in every location. Even after arrival, he faced hotel cancellations simply for being Pakistani. Yet, despite these obstacles, his journey through Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi was filled with moments of deep connection. Whether it was reading Urdu on road signs, sipping tea from clay cups, or hearing a shopkeeper in Old Delhi warmly say, “Bade dinon baad aaye!” he found echoes of home everywhere.
His travels brought India’s history alive, from the Mughal grandeur of the Red Fort and Jama Masjid to the older monuments of the Delhi Sultanate like Qutub Minar. In these places, he saw centuries of Hindu, Jain, and Islamic influences blending into one. He also experienced the vibrant energy of modern India, from the spiritual chaos of Varanasi to the celebrations of Ramzaan in Old Delhi.
At its heart, Coming Back is about rediscovering the shared heritage of Hindustani culture, or the Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb. Through language, food, traditions, and even struggles, he realizes how deeply India and Pakistan remain tied together. The book leaves us with a bittersweet truth which is borders may divide, but history, culture, and memory cannot be erased.
Ps: The pictures in the book is taken by the author himself.
Coming Back is a heartfelt account of a Pakistani man’s long cherished dream of visiting India, a desire that began in his childhood. Growing up in the conservative town of Dera Ismail Khan in the 1980s, he was surrounded by stories that often painted India as the “enemy.” Yet, this demonization only deepened his curiosity. Why did Indian films use Urdu, a language he believed to be uniquely Pakistani? Why did his grandfather speak of a childhood in the same land that was now divided? These questions, mixed with personal family ties to India, pushed him to search for the truth behind the border.
The book also reveals the harsh realities of cross border travel. The author describes the exhausting visa process that required detailed family histories, restrictions to four cities, and the need to report to the police in every location. Even after arrival, he faced hotel cancellations simply for being Pakistani. Yet, despite these obstacles, his journey through Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi was filled with moments of deep connection. Whether it was reading Urdu on road signs, sipping tea from clay cups, or hearing a shopkeeper in Old Delhi warmly say, “Bade dinon baad aaye!” he found echoes of home everywhere.
His travels brought India’s history alive, from the Mughal grandeur of the Red Fort and Jama Masjid to the older monuments of the Delhi Sultanate like Qutub Minar. In these places, he saw centuries of Hindu, Jain, and Islamic influences blending into one. He also experienced the vibrant energy of modern India, from the spiritual chaos of Varanasi to the celebrations of Ramzaan in Old Delhi.
At its heart, Coming Back is about rediscovering the shared heritage of Hindustani culture, or the Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb. Through language, food, traditions, and even struggles, he realizes how deeply India and Pakistan remain tied together. The book leaves us with a bittersweet truth which is borders may divide, but history, culture, and memory cannot be erased.
Ps: The pictures in the book is taken by the author himself.
September 7, 2025
Review – Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani through India by Shueyb Gandapur
Some books don’t just tell you about places; they take you on a journey of the heart. Coming Back is exactly that. In this travel memoir, Shueyb Gandapur recounts his two-and-a-half-week trip to Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi in 2017, but what he really gives us is far deeper: a glimpse into the invisible threads that connect India and Pakistan.
What makes this book special is its honesty. Gandapur doesn’t write like a tourist ticking monuments off a list. Yes, he visits the Qutub Minar, Red Fort, and the ghats of Varanasi, but what stays with you are the smaller, human moments such as meeting Hindu Pashtuns in Jaipur, reconnecting with the Derawala community in Delhi, or pausing at the graves of literary legends like Qurratulain Hyder and Ghalib. These encounters remind us that history lives not only in walls and books but also in people and their memories.
I was struck by how warm and unpretentious his writing feels. He notices the small things: the charm in Jaipur’s street names, the rhythm of prayers from temples and mosques, the friendliness of strangers who feel both foreign and familiar. He does not romanticize, nor does he judge. Instead, he observes with curiosity and empathy, and that is what makes his journey resonate.
At its heart, Coming Back is about more than travel. It is about crossing lines drawn by politics and rediscovering the shared heritage of two nations that often forget how much they still reflect each other. Gandapur acknowledges the discomfort of being a Pakistani in India, yet his experiences reveal something bigger: that kindness, stories, and memories are stronger than mistrust.
This is not a loud book; it is a steady, thoughtful one. It lingers less on spectacle and more on humanity. By the time I finished, I felt I had traveled not just through India’s cities, but through layers of memory, belonging, and reconciliation.
Recommendation: If you want a travel memoir that is honest, heartfelt, and quietly powerful, Coming Back is a must-read. It’s a reminder that while borders divide, stories still have the power to heal.
5/5⭐
Some books don’t just tell you about places; they take you on a journey of the heart. Coming Back is exactly that. In this travel memoir, Shueyb Gandapur recounts his two-and-a-half-week trip to Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, and Varanasi in 2017, but what he really gives us is far deeper: a glimpse into the invisible threads that connect India and Pakistan.
What makes this book special is its honesty. Gandapur doesn’t write like a tourist ticking monuments off a list. Yes, he visits the Qutub Minar, Red Fort, and the ghats of Varanasi, but what stays with you are the smaller, human moments such as meeting Hindu Pashtuns in Jaipur, reconnecting with the Derawala community in Delhi, or pausing at the graves of literary legends like Qurratulain Hyder and Ghalib. These encounters remind us that history lives not only in walls and books but also in people and their memories.
I was struck by how warm and unpretentious his writing feels. He notices the small things: the charm in Jaipur’s street names, the rhythm of prayers from temples and mosques, the friendliness of strangers who feel both foreign and familiar. He does not romanticize, nor does he judge. Instead, he observes with curiosity and empathy, and that is what makes his journey resonate.
At its heart, Coming Back is about more than travel. It is about crossing lines drawn by politics and rediscovering the shared heritage of two nations that often forget how much they still reflect each other. Gandapur acknowledges the discomfort of being a Pakistani in India, yet his experiences reveal something bigger: that kindness, stories, and memories are stronger than mistrust.
This is not a loud book; it is a steady, thoughtful one. It lingers less on spectacle and more on humanity. By the time I finished, I felt I had traveled not just through India’s cities, but through layers of memory, belonging, and reconciliation.
Recommendation: If you want a travel memoir that is honest, heartfelt, and quietly powerful, Coming Back is a must-read. It’s a reminder that while borders divide, stories still have the power to heal.
5/5⭐
August 30, 2025
Shueyb Gandapur’s Coming Back: The Odyssey of a Pakistani through India is a heartfelt travel memoir that transcends geographical boundaries to illuminate the cultural, emotional, and historical threads binding Pakistan and India. In a time when narratives of division often dominate the discourse, Gandapur offers something refreshingly different: a story of connection, rediscovery, and shared heritage.
From the very outset, the book captures the motivations behind the author’s journey—why a Pakistani would choose to retrace the routes across India, and what personal and collective meanings such a journey might hold. Gandapur’s reflections reveal both striking similarities and subtle differences between the two nations, painting a nuanced picture of South Asia’s intertwined destinies.
One of the most moving aspects of the memoir is the emotional weight carried by reunions with people whose families were torn apart during Partition. These encounters are not presented as mere anecdotes, but as living testimonies to the resilience of human bonds in the face of political and religious divides.
Gandapur balances vivid personal storytelling with thoughtful observations. His narrative voice is both approachable and deeply reflective, allowing readers to travel alongside him—not only across physical spaces, but also through layers of memory, nostalgia, and hope.
Coming Back can be read as a subtle counter-narrative to decades of mistrust and alienation, emphasizing instead the continuities that survive despite them. For the general reader, it is an engaging and often touching travelogue that rehumanizes the "other side," reminding us of the shared humanity obscured by lines on a map.
Coming Back is not just a travel memoir—it is an invitation to rethink identity, belonging, and the possibility of reconciliation. Gandapur’s odyssey speaks to anyone who believes that borders, however real, can never erase the deep cultural kinship of South Asia.
Must read♥️♥️
From the very outset, the book captures the motivations behind the author’s journey—why a Pakistani would choose to retrace the routes across India, and what personal and collective meanings such a journey might hold. Gandapur’s reflections reveal both striking similarities and subtle differences between the two nations, painting a nuanced picture of South Asia’s intertwined destinies.
One of the most moving aspects of the memoir is the emotional weight carried by reunions with people whose families were torn apart during Partition. These encounters are not presented as mere anecdotes, but as living testimonies to the resilience of human bonds in the face of political and religious divides.
Gandapur balances vivid personal storytelling with thoughtful observations. His narrative voice is both approachable and deeply reflective, allowing readers to travel alongside him—not only across physical spaces, but also through layers of memory, nostalgia, and hope.
Coming Back can be read as a subtle counter-narrative to decades of mistrust and alienation, emphasizing instead the continuities that survive despite them. For the general reader, it is an engaging and often touching travelogue that rehumanizes the "other side," reminding us of the shared humanity obscured by lines on a map.
Coming Back is not just a travel memoir—it is an invitation to rethink identity, belonging, and the possibility of reconciliation. Gandapur’s odyssey speaks to anyone who believes that borders, however real, can never erase the deep cultural kinship of South Asia.
Must read♥️♥️
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