Roma has a steady job, a mortgage, and a surrogate family in Queens. But as she moves through her daily routines, the powerful Empire that rules her world bares its teeth elsewhere—crushing freedom movements across the planet, including the Punjabi farmers’ uprising where her younger brother struggles on the frontlines.
Roma’s life is upended when her older brother entrusts her with a strange an ordinary-looking plant that manifests a sophisticated bioengineered technology. The ‘cell’ opens a portal for an extraterrestrial spirit-body bearing news of a liberated future–and the potential to hack AI warfare—propelling Roma and her family into the core of a rising resistance.
As dreams and dialectics converge, Roma meditates on the role of faith—ruminating on mystic poetics and anticolonial legacies while yearning for a bewitching woman whose heart will only ever belong to the revolution.
"It is shameful that Americans aren’t taught proper history. If they were, I suppose they’d have revolted."
Earthly Playing Field is Radhika Singh's debut novel, and it is a wild, cerebral, and lyrically written ride. Our heroine protagonist, Roma, is an Indian American woman in Queens, New York, trudging through her corporate peon days. She feels stifled at a job that's being taken over and slowly destroyed by a tech bro. The language and arc of these sections are hilariously and frustratingly on point.
“Given the redundancies affecting our sector, we must stay vigilant when it comes to boosting system efficiency…”
Roma longs to move back to her family in India who are part of a rising Marxist movement within the beleaguered Punjabi farming community. On one of her trips to visit family, her brother Ranbir gifts her with a mysterious plant to secretly smuggle to America. When it "blooms" in the forest near her house in Queens, with supernatural consequence, Roma is drawn into the resistance, and deeper into her search for love and meaning.
“The essence of Sikhi is always to engage and take action, to stand against tyranny and defend the oppressed. But our struggle must always stem from a place of love.”
EPF is many things. One of my favourite throughlines is the one about friendship and parenting, centering Roma's clever and loving BFF Maryam, Maryam's kind, philosophical husband Kassim, and their precocious 11yo daughter Asya. I especially loved Roma's long, complex, and occasional fractious relationship with Maryam (although it’s curious that Maryam appears to be Roma’s only friend, despite mention of living with college roommates in the East Village after graduation, as well as her warm interactions with her immigrant work colleagues).
“She was just as judgmental of Maryam as Maryam was of her; just as exasperated and just as dismissive. Sure, she took Maryam for granted—always bent on doing the right thing, too cautious to let go and properly wild out. And Maryam, in turn, found Roma self-absorbed, irresponsible, and silly.”
Speaking of the East Village, and as someone who is obsessed with writing about place, I loved the sections describing New York City, both its gritty grungy past and its gentrified genocidal present. It's both an ode to the city and a takedown of all the changes in recent decades that are diminishing its power and culture.
“Here the brownstone in which she’d tried out for a gig to tutor the child of an iconic New Wave musician… There the bodega where she’d buy international calling cards from Saleh the Yemeni… And here was the stoop where she’d broken up with Laine for the fifth or sixth time…”
EPF is also a story about queer love as Roma falls hard for a mysterious charismatic revolutionary, Leila. Her romantic musings reminded me of the Rumi poem, "Love Dogs," in which we are counseled to live inside the feeling of longing, as longing alone may be the only return message we receive for our praise of the beloved. I might not be actualized or Zen enough to come to terms with this Sufi plot line (I am after all a hedonist), but maybe that's my journey to come :)
“I just keep coming back to her,” she sighed. “It’s like she’s alive inside me. I can’t not see her there.”
I got a crash course in Sufi, Sikh, and Marxist philosophy. There were so many names of scholars and historians, poets and philosophers, revolutionaries and activists, it's no wonder this novel comes with a reading list at the end. Naturally, I appreciated the righteous indictment of the American capitalist system, as well as the upholding of the working class, both in American immigrant communities and in India.
“First we must study how colonization works to decivilize the colonizer, to brutalize him in the true sense of the word, to degrade him, to awaken him to buried instincts, to covetousness, violence, race hatred, and moral relativism,” Aimé Césaire wrote in his Discourse on Colonialism. “… a gangrene sets in, a center of infection begins to spread… and, slowly but surely, the continent proceeds towards savagery.”
Every novel has a politic, and EPF’s is anti-imperialism. The US-funded genocide in Palestine is one of the catalyzing forces in Roma's journey, but EPF does more than expound on the evils of settler-colonial powers. It’s the resistance movements that take center stage, with revolutionary leaders from Falastin to Burkina Faso, Iran to India, and elsewhere. Throughout the book, various characters, including Roma’s two brothers Ranbir and Khushbir, her bestie’s husband Kassim, her grandfather Babuji, her revolutionary love interest Leila, and even (and especially) 11yo Asya, all offer manifestos for a deep political and spiritual life.
“Our struggle will always be rooted in local concerns. It is through defeating the enemy at home that we slash the tentacles of imperialism strangulating all our lifelines.”
The speculative/sci-fi element in EPF is borne of a plant with the ability to connect people across space and time. Since I believe that psychedelic mushrooms can collapse the space-time continuum, it was immensely appealing to me that nature, in the form of a “plant technology,” is the very thing that might connect and save us.
"The forest glittered in the morning light, the sun dripping through the arching branches, the leaves fulgent, almost lurid, in their last gasping moments of the season."
I also loved how the concept of Jinns - mystical creatures of smoke in Islamic text - is interleaved with the idea of exile. Add in time travel, futurist ether landscapes, and present day histories of migrants and refugees, and you have a glimpse into the kind of chockful juicy metaphor Singh is concocting.
“What must it be like to travel always untethered from the play of life? Roaming that other planet disembodied for centuries, now finally here on earth but segregated from all humanity.”
Singh has written an ebullient heady manifesto of a novel for the Global South, for the revolutionaries, for the lovers, for the commies, for the outcasts, for the queers. Dive in.
“It was strange to realize how, despite her delayed homecoming, the philosophy had always lived at her core. No the American pageantry she’d integrated into so well paled against a deeper pulse that she couldn’t quite translate. Home became the site of her soul; that mysterious faith which was itself rooted in a love for the land, a struggle for justice, an exalted aspiration.”
Thank you so much to my friend Carla at Lavender PR for the gifted ARC. This book was published in the US by Common Notions on May 5, 2026.
Earthly Playing Field is the kind of book that makes building freer futures feel possible, like something our current time demands of us and something that is within our reach.
Radhika Singh’s fiery speculative novel follows Roma, a Punjabi American woman in Queens whose ordinary life of work, mortgage stress, activist anxiety, and diasporic longing is ruptured when her stepbrother Ranbir sends her home with a mysterious plant. The plant is not just a plant, but a portal into “the cell”: a bioengineered network of mycelium and algae being used by resistance movements to evade corporate surveillance, organize against imperial violence, and communicate with beings from a liberated future. As Roma is drawn deeper into this struggle, she also confronts her own distance from Punjabi culture, Sikhi, anti-colonial resistance, and the possibility of love with a woman whose heart belongs first to revolution.
Singh writes in a mode that is essayistic, maximalist, and emotionally interior, layering political theory, spiritual inquiry, speculative technology, and romantic yearning into one charged current. This will not be for readers who want subtle politics or a quiet speculative premise. The novel is declarative, dense, and unapologetically ideological, but that is also its power. Its critique of capitalism, empire, surveillance, liberalism, and technological “progress” is inseparable from its tenderness toward diaspora, faith, labor, and chosen family.
What stunned me most was how fully the book refuses to separate the personal from the geopolitical. A crush, a prayer, a protest chant, a labor movement, and a virtual portal grown in a basement all become sites of worldmaking. I underlined constantly while reading this and finished it awestruck, reminded that speculative fiction can do more than warn us. It can help us tangibly practice working towards liberation. Thank you, Radhika, for the world you imagined; I’m utterly in love with it.
📖 Read this if you love: ambitious speculative fiction that asks what liberation might look like; politically engaged sci-fi rooted in anti-colonial and anti-imperialist analysis; fiction engaging abolitionist imagination, collective struggle, and the possibility of worlds beyond capitalism; or the works of N.K. Jemisin, Octavia Butler, and adrienne maree brown.
🔑 Key Themes: Diaspora and Return, Anti-Colonial Resistance, Anti-Imperialism, Surveillance and Data Politics, Labor Organizing, Chosen Family and Community Care, Cultural Inheritance, Building Freer Futures.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Genocide (severe), War (moderate), Drug Use (minor), Police Brutality (minor), Suicide (minor), Racism (minor), Bullying (minor), Fire (minor).
This book hit me in a way I didn’t expect. As someone from Punjab, the emotional undercurrent of Earthly Playing Field felt deeply familiar — almost like hearing an old story told in a new language. This isn’t just speculative fiction; it’s a meditation on what it means to come from a land shaped by resistance, and what it means to carry that history inside you while living thousands of miles away.
Radhika Singh anchors the novel in Punjab’s farmers’ movements, land‑based struggle, and the generational trauma of state violence. Those details aren’t decorative — they feel lived, inherited, and painfully true. I saw echoes of my own family’s stories in the way she writes about land, loss, and the quiet endurance of people who have survived more than they ever speak about.
Roma’s corporate New York life is drawn with a kind of sterile clarity — efficient, polished, and emotionally vacant. That contrast hit hard. Anyone who has left home, built a life elsewhere, and still feels the tug of ancestral responsibility will recognize the ache in her character. The pull of her family’s revolutionary past isn’t just a narrative device; it becomes a moral force, a reminder that comfort and distance don’t erase where we come from.
For me, this novel felt like inheritance on the page — the rupture of leaving, the longing to return, and the complicated pride of belonging to a people who have always resisted.
A bold, necessary contribution to anti‑colonial literature — and a moving, beautifully written story that lingers long after the last page.
Radhika Singh's novel is about human connections to friends, families, and lovers in a world that is increasingly inhumane and unjust. The main character Roma struggles in her insecurities as a third culture human working in the capitalist Empire while her family actively struggles against authoritarianism in her home country. Roma seeks answers in ancient texts Sufi, Sikhi and Islamic texts, and the texts are woven into the novel, enriching it with the words of ancient poets and philosophers. Though the future of the world seems bleak, a connection to the natural world in the form of a plant that can hack technologies brings news of a promising future, along with the help of bodiless souls who become indispensable in the struggle against authoritarianism in the present.
The writing in this novel is delightful to digest. At times reminding me of Salman Rushdie in his humor and ability to write the South Asian experience. Radhika also has a gift for writing about human relationships: Roma's sister friend, and her family, her brothers, and her lovers. These characters lived on these pages, and it was wonderful to know them.
An engrossing and vibrant novel about family, love, revolution, and a strange plant growing in a basement in Queens.
Singh’s impressive debut is a timely and gripping tale about a woman caught between her life in America and the ripples of revolution abroad. Roma is swept into a multi-dimensional entanglement as the revolution gathers force. She longs to contribute while fighting off a deep infatuation for someone just out of reach.
It takes stock of our geopolitical present with a speculative twist, weaving big ideas about faith, homeland, and resistance into an intimate, character-driven story. I found it thoughtful and compelling from start to finish.
My thanks to the publisher and Edelweiss for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
What if hope for the future arrived in the form of a plant sitting quietly in your living room?
Earthly Playing Field is thoughtful, ambitious, and unlike anything I’ve read lately. Radhika Singh blends sci-fi, queer love, activism, diaspora identity, and anti-imperialist themes into a story that feels both deeply personal and enormous in scope. Roma’s journey pulled me in immediately because her questions about complicity, family, and survival feel painfully relevant even within this speculative future. I also loved how grounded the story remained in community and relationships while still exploring these huge revolutionary ideas. This is definitely the kind of book that sparks conversation long after you finish reading.
Thank you to Radhika Singh, Commons Notions Press, and Lavender PR for the ARC!
I haven't really read a book like this before. She's able to weave subcontinental histories that are increasingly separated through a revolutionary consciousness and fill a major gap in both South Asian and Asian American fiction. I am just so taken with the way she tells these historical stories in a way that is so present and explicitly connected to the struggle for Palestinian liberation. The book is wise, it's fast-paced, there is queer love!! Sci-fi! It was such a fun read. And also such a refreshing entry in this recent Asian American literature boom. It's able to reckon with its American-ness in a way that raises uncomfortable questions for the reader and situates American fiction on a global scale. Something I had found to be a really frustrating absence in a lot of American fiction. Honestly so excited for the next.
To end this story on the word "ancient" was circular and grounding. It’s like a spell being cast, a meditation, a soul search, intentional and true. Thank you for writing this. For committing to what really matters in this life and then sharing it as a guide or an opportunity to remember ourselves. What wonderful teachers do we have in the characters Kassim, Maryam and Asya! And I really loved that it wasn’t about the events so much as it was about Romas emotional internal word, it’s shifting along the timeline, just as the collective thrives when individuals self-actualize.
This book holds information that American's want to wake up to. We can expansion. Just read this.
Radhika Singh writes a very serious, but also amusing and engaging tale about religion, revolution, mysticism, technology, politics, family, and love! So much is addressed in this book, so much explored. It will really get you thinking! I’m very much looking forward to the prequel - sequel which comes out this Fall!
I’m not sure what stars to give. The political philosophies and references were often over my head, but it was a really interesting imagining of different ways we organize, approaches to overthrowing Empire, imaginings for a better AI future, and responses to our current moment. I’m not sure I’ve ever read a sci-fi set in our current moment in this way; it was fascinating and thought provoking.
This book immediately immerses the reader in the beautiful and complicated world of the protagonist. Swaying us between the relatable cynicism of our generation and an existence of wonder, faith and meaningful connection that remains possible even in dark times. Earthly Playing Field is a glowing blueprint for how to keep our souls and communities in tact even when it seems impossible.
this book will stay with me! i love thinking about political struggle as a spiritual battleground. the science fiction was also really exciting!! it gave me a similar feeling to reading books like KSR's "ministry for the future" or "everything for everyone"—like the future is still yet to be determined
this is a book with a lot to say, and at times it could feel like some of the characters were more like mouthpieces than people who could develop over the course of the book (it made me think of the tension between character development and plot/message in boots riley's "i love boosters"). but i loved the surrogate family, which felt really lived in. and the jinn was a really special character too.