In this incredible retelling of the Mahabharata, Shakuni is no longer the villain history remembers, but a man forged in the fires of familial massacre. A wily strategist, yes; but also Shakuni the King, the brother, the son, the husband, and the father. The Hawk’s Quest is a gripping narrative of the single-minded execution of a vow of revenge. But it is not one born of malice, rather of a desperate need to reclaim the stolen dignity of lineage revealing the raw humanity beneath the strategist's mask.
When I was a young girl, growing up in a town where there were only two streets, I never thought I'd become a writer. But I was an avid reader who kept winning prizes for writing. And the time came when I found that I had lots to write about. That my own life was as full of stories as those other people shared with me. Also, that writing was a kind of therapy that gave meaning to my existence.
Dhritarashtra, newly married to Gandhari, discovers that she (a maanglik) had been ‘married’ to a goat before she married him. This, of course, had been done to ward off the curse attached to a maanglik bride, that she would be widowed shortly after her wedding. Dhritarashtra sees none of that, the only fact that registers in his irate mind being that her entire family—her father and hundred brothers—deceived him. In revenge, he deceitfully invites them all to Hastinapur, imprisons them and proceeds to starve them to death.
Everyday, just one handful of rice is given to the huge family of men, and Gandhari’s father Subala soon takes a decision: that daily rice must sustain one of them. One, who will avenge the rest. The man chosen is the youngest of all of Subala’s sons, Shakuni.
The hawk of this novel is Shakuni, and the hawk's quest—to ensure the utter and complete destruction of all that Dhritarashtra holds dear—is what this fascinating novel is about.
I really enjoyed this book. Shakuni, never a sympathetic character in all the many adaptations of the Mahabharata that I have come across, is beautifully depicted here. A nuanced character, capable of the most deceitful scheming and the most merciless plotting, but also a man who can find himself pitying the blind Dhritarashtra or occasionally feeling a pang of affection for the nephew he has set out to destroy. Shakuni is well-depicted but so are others: Gandhari, initially strong-willed and feisty but gradually turning into a nervous, deeply worried woman who has wilfully blinded herself and refuses to admit that she might have been in the wrong. Duryodhana, ruthless, self-serving but yet so deeply in love with the bride he carries off from Kalinga, Bhanumati. Karna, arrogant but generous to a fault.
The novel does expect you to know the basics of the Mahabharata story. Agarwal, for instance, does not explain the background of Karna/Radheya and completely leaps past the battle itself, as also most of what happened to the Pandavas during their thirteen-year exile. I suppose if you are utterly unaware of the Mahabharata, you might be left with some questions; but personally I didn't find this a problem at all.
A compelling novel, written with a sensitivity and a maturity that makes it so much more than just another retelling of the Mahabharata. If you at all like mythological fiction, do read this one. Even if you don’t, read it for the sheer joy of very good storytelling.
There is something quietly unsettling about being asked to reconsider a man you have already judged. For generations, The Mahabharata has offered its moral architecture with remarkable clarity, heroes radiant with virtue, villains marked by cunning and ruin. Among them stands Shakuni, the architect of deception, the man with loaded dice and a sharper mind. He has never required explanation; he has simply required condemnation.
But in "The Hawk’s Quest", Deepa Agarwal does not ask for absolution. She asks for something more disquieting i.e attention.
At its core, the book is not a revisionist spectacle but an excavation. She strips away the mythic distance and relocates Shakuni within the intimate geography of loss, family, lineage, humiliation, and the unbearable residue of survival.
This is not the Shakuni of theatrical malice; it is a man cornered by history. A king who becomes a conspirator not out of appetite, but obligation. A brother whose love for Gandhari transforms into a paradox, his vengeance inevitably swallowing the very blood it seeks to defend.
What emerges is a study in moral entrapment. The book's most compelling idea is not revenge itself, but the architecture of vows within the Mahabharata. Every major figure is bound by one, but Shakuni’s vow feels uniquely suffocating, less a declaration of will, more an inheritance of grief. The author captures this with precision, vengeance here is not cathartic; it is procedural, almost ritualistic.
The dice, carved from the remains of his lineage, are not merely symbolic devices but instruments of continuity. They ensure that forgetting is never an option.
Readers expecting the sweeping scale of epic warfare may find themselves disoriented. The author deliberately turns away from spectacle and instead leans into interiority. The narrative unfolds in quiet increments, through memory, reflection, and restrained dialogue.
There is an almost meditative stillness to the prose. Moments are allowed to linger. Silences are given narrative weight. The effect is immersive but also demanding; this is not a retelling that rushes to impress. It asks the reader to inhabit discomfort, to sit with contradictions. ••• This stylistic choice is both the book’s strength and its occasional limitation. When it works, it creates an emotional density that feels deeply human, Shakuni’s exhaustion, his reluctant clarity, his awareness of the devastation he engineers all resonate with startling intimacy. ••• But at times, this inward focus narrows the narrative field. Secondary characters, though vividly sketched, often orbit Shakuni rather than fully asserting their own narrative gravity. Gandhari, in particular, is fascinating in conception, a woman negotiating duty, fear, and self-erasure, but her arc occasionally feels constrained by the novel’s central gaze. ••• The author's most disciplined choice is her refusal to romanticise. Shakuni is not redeemed; he is revealed. This distinction is crucial. The book does not absolve him of the catastrophic consequences of his actions. Instead, it complicates them. His manipulations remain devastating, his strategies remain morally fraught but they are no longer abstract evils. They are decisions made within a framework of grief, loyalty, and inherited obligation.
This creates a persistent ethical tension. As readers, we are never allowed the comfort of clean alignment. We understand him, perhaps even feel for him but we are also made acutely aware of the cost of that understanding.
The author's prose is controlled, almost austere in its restraint. There are no dramatic flourishes, no excessive ornamentation. Instead, the writing relies on clarity and emotional precision. Descriptions of landscapes, courtly life, and political intrigue are rendered with quiet confidence, never overwhelming the narrative but enriching its atmosphere. The tone remains consistent, measured, reflective, occasionally elegiac. However, this restraint occasionally borders on emotional distance. There are moments where the narrative could have risked greater intensity, where the psychological rupture of Shakuni’s journey might have been explored with sharper edges. The book often chooses composure over volatility, which may leave some readers yearning for a more visceral engagement.
✍️ Strengths :
🔸A psychologically nuanced portrayal of Shakuni that avoids both glorification and condemnation
🔸Deep thematic exploration of vows, grief, loyalty, and moral entrapment
🔸A restrained, immersive narrative style that prioritises emotional interiority
🔸Thoughtful recontextualisation of familiar epic events through a singular lens
✒️ Areas for Improvement :
▪️Secondary characters, especially Gandhari, could have been given more narrative autonomy
▪️The pacing, while deliberate, occasionally risks feeling too subdued for readers expecting narrative momentum
▪️Emotional restraint in the prose sometimes limits the full impact of pivotal moments
In conclusion, it is not interested in rewriting history. It is interested in complicating it. The author does not dismantle the image of Shakuni as a villain; she destabilises the certainty with which we hold that image. What she offers instead is a portrait of a man who understands the cost of his choices and proceeds anyway not out of cruelty, but because turning back is no longer possible and perhaps that is what lingers long after the final page, not sympathy, not forgiveness, but a quiet, uneasy recognition. That sometimes, what we name as villainy in others is simply the shape grief takes when it is denied an ending.
Finished The Hawk's Quest — Glad to read a book doing the thing every mythological retelling promises and almost none delivers: actually inhabiting the antagonist's skull instead of just softening his lighting and creating atmosphere (although there is plenty of that too). Shakuni's usually a plot device — the uncle with the loaded dice, motiveless malice dressed as cunning. Agarwal gives him an origin story instead, and then does the harder work: shows him tired of the vow he's spent decades executing, resentful of what it's cost him, still fond of his enemies even as he's dismantling them. There's a line late in the book where he thinks to himself, mid-battlefield, cursing how vows stifle a man's good sense — that's the whole character in one sentence. Not a villain enjoying the kill, a man serving a life sentence he handed himself. Gandhari's the better surprise, honestly. She's usually just "the blindfolded mother," a symbol doing symbol-things. Here she gets an actual interior life — grief that isn't decorative, a quiet clear-eyed read on what her brother's turning into and why she can't stop it. Between the two of them the book ends up reading less like "here's the war" and more like a study of what a blood-vow does to the people who take it and the people who watch them keep it. Nothing revolutionary structurally or plot wise — it's still a fairly straight retelling, Shakuni stays a strategist to the end, never redeemed, never let off the hook for Kurukshetra. He's just finally legible and multi dimensional as a character. That's the whole literary achievement, and it's enough.
Retellings of the Mahabharata are no longer uncommon, which makes it all the more remarkable when one manages to surprise you.
The Hawk’s Quest does precisely that by turning its gaze towards Shakuni—a character so often reduced to the archetype of the scheming, manipulative uncle—and inviting us to encounter him as something far more complex: a deeply devoted son, a fiercely loyal brother, and a man shaped, as so many of us are, by love, loss, duty, and impossible choices.
What I appreciated most was not that the novel asks us to absolve Shakuni, but that it asks us to understand him. It resists the comfort of simple heroes and villains, reminding us that history—and mythology—is usually told by those who survive. Every antagonist is the protagonist of another story.
The writing is immersive, the political intrigue compelling, and the emotional landscape surprisingly nuanced. Familiar events take on new meaning when viewed through a different pair of eyes, and characters we think we know begin to reveal unexpected depths.
Perhaps that is what stayed with me most: the reminder that every story changes when we are willing to shift our perspective. And perhaps that is true not just of epics, but of people as well.
A thoughtful and deeply human reimagining of one of the Mahabharata’s most misunderstood characters.
As someone who has grown up reading and watching many versions of the epic Mahabharata, I thought I knew these mythological figures well. And just when I thought this genre had become saturated, The Hawk’s Quest reminded me that the right retelling can still surprise you.
And it reminds me of a question: why do we need more retellings when there are already the original sources and so many versions released every year? Maybe the answer lies in how these stories are told, and in the lens the author chooses to helm the narrative with.
Deepa Agarwal, in this book, manages to humanise one of the main antagonists of the epic, Shakuni. A son, a brother, a husband, a father. Infamous in the pages of history as the evil uncle who led his nephews down the path of destruction with a roll of dice. Few or maybe no one remembers the massacre that befell his family that transformed him from a caring and dutiful man into the strategist driven by a vow of revenge.
Through this book, we also come to know Gandhari. A girl full of valour and dreams, who once feared the dark, and later became the queen who willingly blindfolded herself in a misguided sense of duty.
The writing is atmospheric, vivid, and empathetic, and for a book of this length, it is surprisingly fast-paced and keeps you hooked.
Read it with an open mind. Sometimes you just have to sit in silence and listen, and this is one of those books. One I would definitely recommend to anyone looking for a fresh take on this epic, or Indian mythology books with a strong voice.
The Hawk's Quest is the story of Mahabharatha --which we may have read 100 times, but when the story is told from the perspective of one of the most hated villains of Mahabharatha --you take note.
This is Shakuni Mama and after whom since ages, the name of Mama ie Mother;s brother has been tainted, not for his envy but for his unlimited love for the nephew. Growing up I always heard the phase-- Mama ho to Shakuni mama jaise, It was believed that Shakuni had so much love for his nephews that he disowned his own home and children and stayed on at Hastinapur with his sister Gandhari and her 100 sons to help her manage her sons and be an emotional support.
Little did I know that it was not his relenteless love for his nephews but his intense hatred against his brother in law that he schemed for the war to happen that would wipe out the entire Kuru dynasty including himself. Yes you heard it right, Shakuni was a scheming uncle, but before that he lost his father and his 100 brothers to Dritrashtra the blind king who built a palace to call all the Gandhari's brothers and to deliberately put them in the closed palace with nothing to eat and go. When I read about this story, I did not know whether to believe it or not, because what the author has described was very brutal and cunning and barbaric which no family deserves. It is sadi that the moment Drithrashtra learns that Gandhari being a Mangalik was first wed to a goat, the patriarcy in him could not supress his rage that this particular thing was not disclosed to him and that this was technically Gandhari's second marraige. However what transpires after that is something that was unforgettble, given only a bowl of rice to eat daily, Shakunis father and brother sacrificed it so that Shakuni coudl eat and live and go on to take a dastardly revenge, that would met out the same treatment to the Kuru dynasty as was to all of them.
Once only Shakuni lived on and after the death if his brothers and father, SHakuni makes the dice out of the remanents of the bone of his father which held magical properties and vowed to stay on at Hastinapur and take his revenge.
Now we all know about the events of Mahabharatha and how the war happened but the dice and the mind that made it happend was none other than Shakuni who rejoiced on the war and the death of all his nephews having fulfilled his vow to his father.
Reading the book, i understood one thing, that everything is not as it seems and that for every action undertaken there is a motive behind it which has to be understood. I liked the authors way of narrating the incidents and focussing on the main character here ie Shakuni who is described as an Hawk and not unecessarily repeat the events of Mahabharatha with which we are all way to familiar.
A must read book for all the Mythological Fiction fans, I would recommend this to read if you want to view Mahabharatha from a different angle and perspective.
Deepa Agarwal's new book 'The Hawk's Quest' is a re-telling of significant scenes of the Mahabharata from Shakuni's point of view. The conventional view of this Machiavellian strategist, this deceitful diceman who played a pivotal role in the downfall of the Kuru clan, acquires a moving vulnerability, a compelling submission to forces infinitely larger than himself in the final denouement involving several clans. Agarwal succeeds eminently well in giving his character a more sympathetic image than in the evil we traditionally assume to be his. His feelings are revealed in their full spectrum: his reluctance, his regrets, his exhaustion, his empathy towards his foes, his love for his wife and his own sons, and his recognition of the impossible price that revenge extracts.
But in the days of the Mahabharata there are vows that are implacable and must be fulfilled at the risk of death and dishonour. In the battlefield, Agarwal imputes to him a single sentence that conveys it all :"Vows! Shakuni thought grimly. How they circumscribe a man, stifle his good sense!" All the major characters in the Mahabharata take vows that forge their very destinies: Gandhari, Duryodhana, Arjuna, Draupadi, Bhima, Bhishma, Nakula, Sahadeva and others. But Shakuni's vow is taken under a compulsion so grievous, so tragic that vulnerability and a change of track are impossible even to contemplate. For the bones of his family rest in the form of dice in his shrine, the dice themselves radiating the heat of vengeance in his hands. It is this aspect that Agarwal captures with depth and insight making this re-telling an empathetic one.
Agarwal's triumph lies in bringing the major scenes of the Mahabharata back to the reader in a rich engaging flow, pivoting Shakuni at the centre of the narrative. The characters are renewed in sketches and dialogues that are life-like and true to character. An exciting book, empathetic and flowing much like the Ganga, along the banks of which Bhishma and Vidura walk, to work out the complexities of character and statecraft. As does the reader.
The title itself caught my attention, and the cover is equally intriguing and eye-catching. But what made me pick up The Hawk’s Quest was Deepa Agarwal’s ability to revisit familiar stories and make them feel fresh, layered, and deeply human.
I’ve already read and reviewed several books by Deepa Agarwal, and I’ve loved them for the way she brings history, mythology, and human emotions together. With The Hawk’s Quest, she once again takes a character we think we know and makes us look at him differently.
This time, the focus is on Shakuni—a figure traditionally remembered as the cunning villain of the Mahabharata. Agarwal moves beyond that familiar image and gives us Shakuni the king, brother, son, husband, and father.
The strongest aspect of the novel, for me, is this shift in perspective. Shakuni’s quest for revenge is relentless, but the story doesn’t present it merely as an act of cruelty or malice. Instead, it delves into the ideas of family, honour, humiliation, loss, loyalty, and the desperate desire to restore a dignity that has been taken away.
I particularly want to appreciate how Agarwal explores the humanity beneath the legend. Mythological characters can easily become symbols rather than people, but here Shakuni feels like a man carrying enormous emotional baggage.
His choices may not always be easy to sympathise with, and that is precisely what makes the characterisation interesting. The book encourages us to understand a person without necessarily excusing everything he does.
The writing is engaging and evocative, with enough historical and mythological texture to immerse the reader without losing sight of the emotional core. Agarwal’s retelling also reminded me why I enjoy reading alternative perspectives on familiar epics: sometimes, changing the lens can make an old story feel surprisingly new.
This is not a light or purely entertaining retelling. The weight of revenge and the consequences of choices remain at its heart, and readers looking for a straightforward heroic narrative may find Shakuni’s morally complicated journey challenging.
Overall, The Hawk's Quest is a compelling and thought-provoking retelling that asks us to look beyond the label of "Villian" and consider the person who existed before the legend was written. Deepa Agarwal has once again shown her strength in breathing new life into familiar stories, and this book was another reminder of why I 've enjoyed her work previously.
A gripping tale of revenge, family, dignity, and the making of a man history chose to remember as a villian. If you enjoy mythology retold from an unexpected perspective, this one is definitely worth picking up.
“Among her hundred brothers, he was the one Gandhari loved the most—the one with whom she shared her innermost thoughts, the one she sought out when she needed something to be done, the one in whose company she found solace in her anxious moments.”
- Deepa Agarwal, The Hawk's Quest
What comes to your mind when you think of Shakuni? A cunning man who jinxed the game of dice, or a shrewd strategist protecting the fate of his nephew?
'The Hawk's Quest' by Deepa Agarwal is a one-of-a-kind retelling that reimagines the perspectives of mythology lovers. Agarwal's portrayal of Shakuni, the family dynamics, and the political games that shaped him as an individual are described using powerful instances. For example, he was the most enterprising among his hundred brothers and Gandhari's (Madhu) favourite due to their small age gap.
“Most of them preferred the physical pursuits of hunting and martial arts rather than a quest for knowledge.”
He vehemently opposed the alliance and was of the opinion that Gandhari deserved a better match. Apart from being a mastermind, he's also depicted as a caring brother, loving husband, and a dutiful father. Not to mention, a well-versed player in the art of warfare.
“The sharp incline would have slowed the progress of even the most seasoned mountain climber, but Shakuni’s steed was sure-footed and nimble.”
Agarwal's prose is layered and rich with strong imagery. The dialogues breathe character into each of the protagonists by exploring the grey areas, shunning their labels. One more detail that moulded Shakuni was his foresightedness, which sometimes brought luck—or otherwise. Nature is a beautiful backdrop that narrates stories of its own. The lyrical quality evoked a lot of emotions. For instance, there were moments like Shakuni visiting his motherland and experiencing a fleeting change of thought in planning revenge.
I knew the backstory of Shakuni and how his brothers were pawns in the hands of Dhritarashtra and were ill-treated by him. I was also aware that he was an ardent devotee of Shiva and a master illusionist. But I couldn't imagine the Mahabharata from his perspective.
Deepa Agarwal shaped an anti-hero by presenting him not merely as a villain but as a complex, tragic figure driven by loyalty, vengeance, and a deeply personal sense of justice. Every moment spent in the company of the Kurus elicited an acerbic taste in his mouth.
“All I wish is to live to witness the late decimation of the Kuru.”
The Hawk’s Quest by Deepa Agarwal is a powerful and emotional retelling that made me see the Mahabharata from a completely different perspective. This book takes a character we have always known as a villain ...Shakuni and gives him a voice, a past, and a reason behind his actions. It felt intense, thought-provoking, and deeply human.
This story explores Shakuni not just as a mastermind of deceit, but as a man shaped by loss, pain, and a shattered past. His journey is not shown as pure evil, but as a response to injustice and suffering. The idea that revenge can come from wounded dignity rather than simple hatred adds so much depth to the narrative.
The writing is engaging and emotional, making it easy to connect with Shakuni’s inner world. You begin to understand his choices, even when you do not agree with them. That is what makes this retelling special, it does not try to justify him completely, but it makes you question everything you believed about him.
I also appreciated how the book blends mythology with strong storytelling. It keeps the essence of the Mahabharata alive while focusing on an untold side of the story. The relationships...his bond as a brother, a son, and a king, add layers to his character and make his journey more personal and painful.
This is not just a story about revenge. It is about identity, loss, pride, and the heavy cost of holding onto a vow. It shows how one decision, one trauma, can shape the course of an entire life and even history itself.
For readers who enjoy mythological retellings, this book offers something different and meaningful. It challenges the idea of heroes and villains and reminds us that every story has more than one truth.
A gripping and emotional read that gives Shakuni a voice and leaves you thinking long after the last page. Though , it's fictional but it has the ability to change the complete mindset and vision towards whole mahabharata. Beautifully penned.
There is a strange unease about considering someone whom history has already condemned and being told not to forgive, but to know him. Deepa Agarwal accomplishes this in her retelling of the Mahabharat from Shauni's POV, The Hawk’s Quest. She does not redeem Shakuni into a martyr, but she insists that he should not be allowed to fade into anonymity. We have all been aware of how this story ends, the weighted dice, the destruction of a court, the war that destroys a civilization. All Agarwal gives us is the price of victory. The meticulous crafting of a man who cannot afford to forget. The Shakuni in Agarwal’s story is not motivated by drama, but by legacy. A flesh and blood being haunted by memories. The dice made from sorrow. The promise sworn not out of desire, but out of hunger, witnessing the annihilation of an entire lineage. Once the promise is made, there is no question of what Shakuni will do; only what choice he has left. What remains with us is not an apology, but conflict. Because Gandhari is his sister. Because the devastation that he plans to bring about would consume her children. Because he is entirely aware of what he is doing. And yet he persists, not held hostage by rage alone, but also by an unbreakable sense of fidelity. Agarwal’s writing is controlled and measured in its witness. Nothing is overstated; there are no emphases except those which emerge from her narrative itself. Episodes from the epic Mahabharat are recalled with clarity, but this time seen through the eyes of a character who we presumed knew better. This is not a story of redemption. It is much more than that. An account of how what we see as villainy in others can sometimes appear to us like worship.
The cunning uncle. The master strategist. The man behind the dice game. The villain we rarely question because the Mahabharata already seems to have given us his label.
And then I picked up The Hawk’s Quest.
This book made me pause and ask myself….what if the villain we remember was once simply a son, a brother, a husband and a father who had lost everything?
Deepa Agarwal takes us into Shakuni’s world and, instead of asking us to forgive him, asks us to understand him. His story is rooted in loss, humiliation, family, loyalty and a vow of revenge. The more I read, the more the familiar black and white picture of good and evil began to blur.
What stayed with me most was the idea that sometimes revenge doesn’t begin with hatred….it begins with hurt. A wound that is never allowed to heal can slowly become a purpose.
And that’s what makes this retelling interesting. Shakuni isn’t suddenly turned into a hero. His choices still carry darkness and consequences. But behind the strategist, we get to see the human being…the person shaped by everything he endured.
I especially loved how the story made me look at a character I had always judged from a distance and think, “Maybe there was more to his story than I was ever told.”
By the time I reached the end, I wasn’t sure whether I liked Shakuni more.
But I definitely understood him more.
And perhaps that’s the real strength of this book…..it doesn’t simply retell the Mahabharata. It makes you question the stories you’ve been certain you already understood.
A thoughtful Mahabharata retelling for anyone who enjoys mythology, morally grey characters, family, revenge and stories that make you see an old legend through a completely different lens.
The Hawk’s Quest by Deepa Agarwal offers a strikingly intimate reimagining of the Mahabharata by placing Shakuni at its emotional centre. Rather than presenting him as the familiar scheming antagonist, the novel explores the weight of his choices, revealing a man shaped by loss, duty, and a relentless sense of purpose. This shift in perspective allows the reader to move beyond judgement and engage with the complexity of his character.
What makes the narrative compelling is the way it balances strategy with sensitivity. The political manoeuvres and calculated decisions remain, but they are grounded in deeply personal motivations. Shakuni’s vow of revenge is not portrayed as blind malice, but as something that grows out of grief and a fractured past. This emotional layering gives the story a quiet intensity that stays with the reader.
Agarwal’s writing is immersive without being overwhelming. She focuses on relationships and inner conflict, allowing even well-known events to feel newly significant. The novel does not attempt to alter the epic, but instead invites readers to look at it with greater empathy and nuance. It becomes less about heroes and villains, and more about the fragile humanity that exists in between. The cover complements this beautifully, with its rich golden palette and hawk motif reflecting both power and perspective.
Overall, The Hawk’s Quest is a thoughtful and engaging retelling that challenges familiar perceptions while remaining rooted in the spirit of the original epic.
Rating: 4.3/5 Recommendation: Ideal for readers who enjoy mythological retellings with emotional depth and character-driven storytelling.
Deepa Agarwal’s The Hawk’s Quest is a bold, emotionally charged retelling of the Mahabharata that re-centers the narrative around Shakuni, transforming him from a one-dimensional villain into a deeply human figure scarred by grief, loss, and the burden of vengeance. It’s a book that will appeal to readers who enjoy mythology retellings with psychological depth and character-driven storytelling. Instead of the dice-wielding schemer, Agarwal portrays Shakuni as a man devastated by the massacre of his family and the destruction of Gandhara. His revenge is framed as a desperate attempt to reclaim dignity, not pure malice. The narrative shifts from battlefield spectacle to inner reflection, focusing on grief, loyalty, and the crushing weight of vows. Agarwal’s writing is measured and lyrical, balancing emotional intensity with restraint.
Offers a daring reinterpretation of one of the Mahabharata’s most controversial characters. Perfect for readers who prefer intimate explorations of morality and trauma over action-heavy retellings. Encourages reflection on how mythology simplifies complex lives, prompting readers to see Shakuni as brother, son, husband, and father. Themes of justice, loss, and resilience resonate with contemporary struggles. The Hawk’s Quest is not just another Mahabharata retelling, it’s a quiet but powerful exploration of grief, vengeance, and human complexity. Deepa Agarwal succeeds in reframing Shakuni as more than a villain, making this book a compelling read for fans of mythology, historical fiction, and character-driven narratives.
The Hawk’s Quest is a true redemption as it invites the reader to experience the life of someone, whose name has been forever tied to deceit, treachery, and the downfall of countless warriors. Shakuni’s story is one of the most intriguing as it provides us with a lesson on life, humanity, and the price of vengeance. It makes us reevaluate our beliefs and question if some people are born evil or if they are made by the circumstances beyond their control.
What I like most about the book is that it allows the reader to get acquainted with a seemingly heartless and cruel person on a personal level. We are not following the actions of a villain but a father, a son, a husband, and a warrior. A man who made mistakes, perhaps, but a man nonetheless, with a heart of gold and a soul full of pain. This is what makes the book so compelling and noteworthy – the author manages to present to us not a one-dimensional villain but a multi-faceted individual with his own virtues, vices, and follies.
I appreciate such books and authors that dare to retell well-known mythology and approach the characters from a new angle. It is always intriguing to learn about the life and mind of a person that history has painted in shades of black. The Hawk’s Quest is an exciting story full of valuable lessons, ancient wisdom, and human insight. Not only that, but it also showcases the dark, treacherous side of humanity, as well as the monstrous price of vengeance. Most importantly, however, it presents to us the misunderstood and villainized heart of Shakuni, full of pain, regret, and thirst for revenge.
I thought I knew the Mahabharata, but The Hawk’s Quest by Deepa Agarwal really said, “Bestie, you’ve only heard one side of the story.” Centring Shakuni, the man we’ve always associated with manipulation, revenge and the infamous Game of Dice, this retelling makes you look at him in an entirely different light. And honestly? Seeing an epic through the eyes of someone history has labelled a villain hits DIFFERENT.
What I loved most was how the author doesn’t try to make Shakuni innocent or magically excuse his actions. Instead, she lets us see the grief, humiliation, loyalty and love that shape him. Behind the mastermind is a son, brother, husband and father, someone caught between his family, his vows and the consequences of his own choices. The writing is beautiful, the emotions build slowly, and familiar moments from the Mahabharata suddenly feel fresh. Like, imagine knowing how everything ends but still finding yourself emotionally invested in the person helping bring that destruction about.
For me, The Hawk’s Quest is a reminder that history is often told through a particular lens, and there’s always more to a person than the version everyone remembers. Shakuni’s story doesn't erase the damage he causes, but it makes you question what creates a villain in the first place. If you love Indian mythology, morally complex characters and retellings that make you rethink everything you thought you knew, ADD THIS TO YOUR TBR. Because sometimes, the most fascinating stories belong to the characters we were taught to hate.
What if the villain you’ve always blamed was never just a villain?
This is honestly such a moving retelling. It takes Shakuni, who we’ve always seen as just the villain, and shows a completely different side of him.
This isn’t the usual grand, larger-than-life Mahabharata kind of story. It feels quieter and more personal. It really focuses on the man behind everything and the trauma he carries after losing his family and kingdom. His need for revenge doesn’t come across as pure evil here but something much heavier, almost like a burden he can’t escape.
The story moves slowly, but in a good way. It sits with his thoughts, his pain, and the loneliness that follows him. You can actually feel the weight of his choices and that constant sense of being tied to a vow that leaves no space for peace.
What I really liked is how it explores the grey side of things. It makes you question everything you thought you knew about him. There’s loyalty, sacrifice, family, and how complicated all of that can get. It feels very raw and real even though it’s based on mythology.
If you like character-driven stories that are more about emotions than action, this one really stays with you. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking and makes you see Shakuni in a completely different light. I didn’t expect to feel this much for him, but this book really changed that.
The cover of The Hawk’s Quest immediately caught my attention, and I was honestly thrilled to finally read it. I had studied the Mahabharata as part of my English Literature course, so I thought I knew the story. But this book made me realise that perhaps knowing a story and truly seeing it are two very different things.
Deepa Agarwal gives us a different perspective on Shakuni not simply as the man history remembers as a mastermind of revenge, but as a prince, a son, a brother, a husband and a father, carrying responsibilities, grief and conflicts of his own. Through his eyes, the rivalry between the Pandavas and Kauravas, the Game of Dice, his relationship with Gandhari, and the choices that lead towards destruction begin to look different.
What stayed with me the most was the idea that the way I see something may be completely different from the way you see it. And perhaps neither perspective tells the entire story.
Shakuni knows that the destruction he is helping create will also hurt the people he loves. Yet grief, loyalty, humiliation, family and the weight of a vow slowly become intertwined with his choices.
For me, The Hawk’s Quest wasn’t just another retelling of the Mahabharata. It was a reminder that sometimes, to understand a person, we have to step outside the version of them that history has handed us.
I've read several interpretations of The Mahabharata from Draupadi's perspective and have discovered something impactful with every re-telling. Having discovered very little about Shakuni, the evil mastermind behind the ill-fated game of dice, this book was a brilliant opportunity to learn more about the epic and from a crucial character's pov.
As a doting brother, dutiful son, loyal husband and loving father with a prosperous kingdom, Shakuni had it all until the unfortunate marriage of his sister to the blind prince of Hastinapur- Dhritarashtra. This marriage turned disastrous for his clan leading to unsettling events that made him walk the path of vengeance his entire life.
What makes this version interesting is to discover the vulnerable aspects to Shakuni's personality. How decisions taken by others turned his life into a mission that he wouldn't want to undertake otherwise. It offers no justification to the evils done by or through him but clarity about the cause and his motivation to go about it.
The author is blessed with the prowess to pen evocative characters, create magnificent landscapes and ornate visuals of royalty and despair that stay vivid in the reader's mind. Quite enjoyable and intriguing in its entirety. Read it to unlearn and re-discover.
Before there was The Game of Thrones, there was the Mahabharata, our very own epic of political intrigue, subterfuge and betrayals, the battles for power, the machinations of good and evil, filled with towering figures and fascinating character arcs, grand philosophical questions and karmic resolutions. Author Deepa Agarwal returns to this age-old font of inspiration to tell the story of the Great War from the perspective of Shakuni, the villainous uncle of the Kauravas, who played a critical role in the epic. She succeeds in putting together a counter view with empathy and conviction. I found the first part of this book truly riveting as it starts in Gandhar with the story of Bhishma’s arrival there in the quest for a bride for his blind nephew, the King of Hastinapur. What unfolds from the point of view of Shakuni and his family is truly gut wrenching and came as a surprise to me.
The latter half of the book went over far more familiar terrain- the rivalry between the Kauravas and Pandavas, the various points of their rivalry, the events leading up to the game of dice and eventually the war itself. Though well written, this part worked less well for me simply for the fact that the story was just too familiar. But, altogether an engaging and worthy read, a new angle to view the epic from.
If you've always seen Shakuni as just the villain of the Mahabharata, this book will completely change your perspective. After reading Shakuni - Master of the Game by Ashutosh Nadkar, I was already deeply curious about his story - his side, his truth, his reasons. So when The Hawk's Quest by Deepa Agarwal came along, it felt like the perfect continuation of that curiosity.
This isn't just a story about a villain. It's the story of a king, a brother, a son, a father, and a man slowly shaped by pain, love, loyalty, and revenge. The plot unfolds through the lesser-known corridors of Gandhara, giving us a deeply personal look into Shakuni's life before everything we associate him with. We journey through Gandhara, witnessing Gandhari's life before her marriage, her strong bond with her family, and the moment everything changes when she is married to Dhritarashtra. That single decision sets off a chain of events that quietly, but powerfully, alters destinies. Read the full review on website https://vidhyathakkar.com/book-review...
We have always known what Shakuni did. The dice. The game. The war that swallowed a civilization whole. What we never stopped to ask is what it cost him to do it.
Agarwal’s retelling doesn’t ask you to forgive Shakuni. It asks you to sit with him long enough to understand that what looks like villainy from the outside can look entirely like loyalty from within. The origin is brutal and deserves to be said plainly. The Gandhar clan (Shakuni’s father, his brothers, his entire bloodline) imprisoned, left to die on a fistful of rice a day. Not killed but starved- of food, of respect and dignity. There is something particularly cruel about that distinction. Agarwal handles this with a restraint that is almost unsettling. The prose witnesses the ordeal. And that quietness makes the weight land harder.
What stays with me is the specificity of his inheritance. The limp he carries as a deliberate, chosen reminder. The dice carved from his father’s bones. He has engineered his own body and his own tools to make forgetting impossible. We have spent centuries calling that evil. While Agarwal calls it devotion.
But she doesn’t let you stay comfortable in that reframe. Because Gandhari is his sister. The Kuru children he is working to destroy are her sons. He knows this. He goes ahead anyway because the loyalty he owes his dead father is older and deeper than the one he owes her living children.
The Hawk's Quest is the kind of retelling that subtly alters your perception of a character you previously believed to be clear.
The narrative reveals Shakuni as a person influenced by loss, grief, familial expectations, and scars that never fully healed rather than portraying him as merely the mastermind behind devastation.
You come to see how getting revenge becomes less of a decision for him and more of an inevitable fate. Instead of hurrying through the emotions, the slow, contemplative rhythm lets them settle. His choices feel agonisingly human because of the story's persistent melancholy. Every act of loyalty, every moment of resentment, and every sacrifice has emotional significance.
The book's sense of moral complexity is what stuck with me the most. It helps you comprehend Shakuni, but it doesn't compel you to forgive him. And everything is altered by that comprehension.
✨ My Recommendation:
This book has a profound effect if you like mythology retellings that emphasise psychology, emotions, and complex human connections above nonstop action.
I have been on a retelling binge - and this retelling was NOT on my bingo card. Shakuni from Mahabharata is the quintessential evil uncle - never once I have ever thought about EXACTLY why he was the way he was.
But this book makes you think - the human that he was, his thought processes, and the why he was the way he was - a man whose decisions were shaped by his losses, his relentless sense of duty and purposes.
What I absolutely adored was how the author has tried to make the readers view the already known aspects of the epic from a new perspective and maybe even a little empathy towards a character who had his own version of the events that we all know and have judged.
Retellings have now become a favourite of mine; because it gives me a way to see already known and established characters from an entirely new perspective.
It did take me a while to get into this book - which I think might be because Mahabharata is not exactly my favourite epic - but nevertheless it’s one that I enjoyed.
Shakuni, Gandhar Raj Shakuni who is still famous for his cunningness after 500 yrs, a mere mortal who dared to challenge Lord Krishna in Mahabharata.
His sharp brain and strategic planning was a great instrumental behind the Kurukshetra war, he was the architect of the devastating war and the war was so immaculate that people still think he is unmatched, unparalleled opponent for the God.
The book is written from Shakuni 's perspective, a retelling of Mahabharata. I was expecting the book would be in first person narrative, some deep, psychological aspects, some monologue that reflect his inner turmoil, his unheard inner thoughts, but the third person narrative makes it more dramatic than I was thinking. It was quite typical, a dramatic adaptation of the epic rather than in-depth exploration of the character.
For me it was a failed adventure to explore Shakuni, the gandhar king.
We’ve always been told who the villain is. But we’ve rarely been told why.
The Hawk's Quest gives Shakuni a voice, and suddenly, the story doesn’t feel so black and white anymore. There were so many things I never knew..stories that the book introduced me too. Gandharraja Shakuni never had people understand what broke him at the start. How Hastinapur betrayed him and his whole family.
Imagine being imprisoned with your 99 brothers and your father and being starved to death. That day Shakuni vowed to revenge - and that's what he did. The author doesn't show him as good or bad..but changes the narrative of him being JUST a villain.
The last part of the book could have been more satisfying however I'm glad such a book exists which gives voice to other characters of Mahabharata too. Specially Shakuni, one we never forget, but the one we really don't know much about too.
So tell me, Was he evil… or just playing the only game he had left?
This retelling offers a striking shift in perspective, turning a familiar figure into someone far more layered and human. Instead of a one-dimensional antagonist, we get a character shaped by loss, loyalty, and circumstances that challenge easy judgment. What stood out to me was how the narrative leans into emotional depth without losing its strategic intensity. The mind games and calculated decisions are still there, but they’re rooted in something more personal making every action feel intentional rather than purely manipulative. The storytelling balances introspection with momentum, allowing you to understand the character’s motivations while staying engaged in the unfolding events. It doesn’t try to justify or glorify, but instead invites you to see the grey areas that often get overlooked. Thoughtful, immersive, and quietly powerful, this is a reinterpretation that stays with you not for its twists, but for the way it reshapes what you thought you knew.
I started this book with the notion that Shakuni was simply the villain , the mastermind behind the game of dice, the manipulator, the reason behind so much destruction.
But by the end of the book, my perspective changed.
This book shows Shakuni as a man shaped by pain, betrayal, revenge, and a purpose much larger than himself. It doesn’t completely justify his actions, but it helps you understand where they came from.
And that is what makes the book interesting. It makes you question whether Shakuni was truly evil… or someone history remembered only by his worst actions.
Would I recommend it? Yes, if you enjoy mythological retellings that make you rethink characters you thought you already knew. Hawk’s Quest made me see Shakuni not just as a villain, but as a layered man with a larger purpose
I just finished reading it. Honestly, it completely changed how I see a famous character.
We know Shakuni as the villain. But this book shows his human side. He is a brother, father, and husband caught in a tragic storm.
His revenge does not come from pure malice. It comes from deep grief and lost family dignity. Reading his story truly breaks your heart.
The story shows deep emotions and silent pain. It proves that no one is born evil. Bad times and heavy losses shape them.
The writing is very engaging. Every single chapter makes you think about choices, loyalty, and right versus wrong.
This book gives no easy answers. It leaves you with a heavy heart and deep thoughts. It shows the real human side of history.
This book was eye opening. It challenged everything I thought I knew. If you love deep emotional stories with a fresh view, you must pick this up. It is unforgettable. 📚♥️
This is the story of the oldest villain before we actually become a villain.
The Hawk's Quest by Deepa Agarwal is not your usual villain backstory. It reframes Shakuni as a product of trauma, not pure evil.
Instead of the epic grand scale of the war, it focuses on the intimate relationships. There is a strong use of inner monologue and quiet moments with grounded descriptions.
It reads less like a mythology and more like family stories set inside the mythology.
This is my first time reading about Shakuni, and I actually really enjoyed reading his side of the story. This is not trying to rewrite the Mahabharat; rather, it is trying to understand it.