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And I Am the Arrow
Three generations of women. The ghost of a man cut in two on a train track. An electric, playful, propulsive epic that spans Calcutta, London and New York, and the worlds of the living and the dead.
Chatterjee Mansion is a 1940s art-deco house in Calcutta with floors of polished marble and rooms filled with lies and omissions. In this house, late on a rain-soaked night, the turn of a single key shatters all that is known to be true.
Full of dark humour and unexpected turns, And I Am The Arrow is a kaleidoscopic tale of flight, forbidden love, and secrets that hide in plain sight. Trying to make sense of this world is Mishu, a young woman recently returned to India, just as Niyoti, her grandmother and the family matriarch, falls into a coma. As Mishu, her mother Ira, and their servant Bani wait to see if Niyoti wakes or leaves them forever, long-buried truths come to the surface, revealing a dramatic story of India’s social and political struggles entwined with the family’s gains and sacrifices.
Narrated by the women and the ghost who haunts them all, And I Am The Arrow is an exploration of death and grief, of memory and reality, and of the ways we love and bruise each other.
Chatterjee Mansion is a 1940s art-deco house in Calcutta with floors of polished marble and rooms filled with lies and omissions. In this house, late on a rain-soaked night, the turn of a single key shatters all that is known to be true.
Full of dark humour and unexpected turns, And I Am The Arrow is a kaleidoscopic tale of flight, forbidden love, and secrets that hide in plain sight. Trying to make sense of this world is Mishu, a young woman recently returned to India, just as Niyoti, her grandmother and the family matriarch, falls into a coma. As Mishu, her mother Ira, and their servant Bani wait to see if Niyoti wakes or leaves them forever, long-buried truths come to the surface, revealing a dramatic story of India’s social and political struggles entwined with the family’s gains and sacrifices.
Narrated by the women and the ghost who haunts them all, And I Am The Arrow is an exploration of death and grief, of memory and reality, and of the ways we love and bruise each other.
- GenresLiterary Fiction
379 pages, Kindle Edition
Published August 25, 2026
About the author
Pia Ghosh-Roy
1 book4 followersPia Ghosh-Roy grew up in Calcutta, India, and lives in Cambridge, UK. She worked in advertising as a copywriter for over a decade before turning to fiction. She’s the recipient of the 2017 Hamlin Garland Award and the 2019 Cagibi Macaron Prize, and has been short- and longlisted for the Brighton Prize, Bath Short Story Award, Berlin Writing Prize and Fish Short Story Prize. And I Am The Arrow is her debut novel.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
September 3, 2026
There are some books that make you think differently about your parents. Not because they offer some grand revelation about parenthood, but because they make you wonder about the people your parents were before they became your parents. Their behaviours, their quirks, the things that make them angry or happy, the things they refuse to talk about. Sometimes, we spend years trying to untangle stories that were never entirely ours to know.
Pia Ghosh-Roy’s *And I Am the Arrow* is very much that kind of book.
Mishu returns to her grandmother Niyoti’s house, Chatterjee Bari, after Niyoti falls into a coma. It is here that she is forced to confront a great deal of her past, but most importantly, her anger. Her father died when she was eight, yet nobody ever really spoke about who he was, how he died, or the circumstances surrounding his death. For Mishu, her father exists almost as an idea rather than a person, a concept of what a father should be without a voice or a face. Alongside this is the feeling that, after his death, her mother Ira abandoned her.
Then Mishu finds a diary.
What follows is not simply a revelation of family secrets, but a gradual reconfiguration of the people she thought she understood. The two people she has spent so much time being angry with, her mother and her grandmother, begin to appear in an entirely different light. Not necessarily better, but more complicated.
Ira and Niyoti carry their own histories of grief and pain. Their lives have been shaped by abuse, revolution, loss and the inability to know where to direct their anger. They have survived unimaginable things, but survival has also changed them. Ira loses herself in grief. Niyoti clings to Mishu, eventually creating an even deeper fracture between mother and daughter. Mishu, in turn, carries that unresolved anger into her own relationships.
This is where I found the novel particularly compelling. It understands that survival does not necessarily make people kinder or better. Sometimes it makes them controlling, distant, angry or destructive. Sometimes the very things people do to protect themselves become the things that hurt the people around them.
The novel is also fundamentally a story about women. Mishu, Ira and Niyoti have each loved, lost and survived, and each has lost some part of herself in the process. Yet the book resists being reduced to one relationship or one kind of grief. There is the mother-daughter relationship, the grandmother-granddaughter relationship, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship, parenthood, friendship and sexuality, all woven into the same family history.
And then there are the ghosts.
The ghost, stuck in the bardo, introduces an entirely different register into the novel. His sections move towards philosophy, science, history, death and questions of rationality and existence. It is an unusual counterpoint to the emotional intensity of the family narrative, but one I found surprisingly effective. Just when the grief threatens to become overwhelming, the ghosts provide distance and allow the novel to look at death from another angle.
The multiple voices are equally important. Everyone is given a perspective, and as those perspectives accumulate, Chatterjee Bari begins to feel less like a setting and more like a repository of everything this family has loved, lost and refused to confront.
That is perhaps what stayed with me most about the novel. It does not ask us to decide who was right. It asks us to understand how everyone got there.
Mishu begins by wanting answers about her father and resenting the people who withheld them. What she eventually discovers is more complicated: the people she wanted answers from were themselves carrying histories they had never fully understood. The novel does not excuse the harm they caused, but it complicates our understanding of it.
And that is what made the book feel so personal to me. It evoked the daughter in me, but it also made me look at the mother, the grandmother, the maid who eventually becomes a family friend, and wonder about the lives they had before I knew them through those roles.
*And I Am the Arrow* is nuanced, beautiful and genuinely haunting. It is tragic, but somehow also deeply wholesome. It made me cry, but it also felt like a book that would sit beside you while you cried.
Perhaps its most unsettling idea is that the people we demand answers from may themselves have spent their lives trying to survive questions they never knew how to answer.
Because life is a big loophole.
And sometimes, understanding someone does not mean finally finding the answer. It means having enough of the story to see them as a whole person.
Pia Ghosh-Roy’s *And I Am the Arrow* is very much that kind of book.
Mishu returns to her grandmother Niyoti’s house, Chatterjee Bari, after Niyoti falls into a coma. It is here that she is forced to confront a great deal of her past, but most importantly, her anger. Her father died when she was eight, yet nobody ever really spoke about who he was, how he died, or the circumstances surrounding his death. For Mishu, her father exists almost as an idea rather than a person, a concept of what a father should be without a voice or a face. Alongside this is the feeling that, after his death, her mother Ira abandoned her.
Then Mishu finds a diary.
What follows is not simply a revelation of family secrets, but a gradual reconfiguration of the people she thought she understood. The two people she has spent so much time being angry with, her mother and her grandmother, begin to appear in an entirely different light. Not necessarily better, but more complicated.
Ira and Niyoti carry their own histories of grief and pain. Their lives have been shaped by abuse, revolution, loss and the inability to know where to direct their anger. They have survived unimaginable things, but survival has also changed them. Ira loses herself in grief. Niyoti clings to Mishu, eventually creating an even deeper fracture between mother and daughter. Mishu, in turn, carries that unresolved anger into her own relationships.
This is where I found the novel particularly compelling. It understands that survival does not necessarily make people kinder or better. Sometimes it makes them controlling, distant, angry or destructive. Sometimes the very things people do to protect themselves become the things that hurt the people around them.
The novel is also fundamentally a story about women. Mishu, Ira and Niyoti have each loved, lost and survived, and each has lost some part of herself in the process. Yet the book resists being reduced to one relationship or one kind of grief. There is the mother-daughter relationship, the grandmother-granddaughter relationship, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship, parenthood, friendship and sexuality, all woven into the same family history.
And then there are the ghosts.
The ghost, stuck in the bardo, introduces an entirely different register into the novel. His sections move towards philosophy, science, history, death and questions of rationality and existence. It is an unusual counterpoint to the emotional intensity of the family narrative, but one I found surprisingly effective. Just when the grief threatens to become overwhelming, the ghosts provide distance and allow the novel to look at death from another angle.
The multiple voices are equally important. Everyone is given a perspective, and as those perspectives accumulate, Chatterjee Bari begins to feel less like a setting and more like a repository of everything this family has loved, lost and refused to confront.
That is perhaps what stayed with me most about the novel. It does not ask us to decide who was right. It asks us to understand how everyone got there.
Mishu begins by wanting answers about her father and resenting the people who withheld them. What she eventually discovers is more complicated: the people she wanted answers from were themselves carrying histories they had never fully understood. The novel does not excuse the harm they caused, but it complicates our understanding of it.
And that is what made the book feel so personal to me. It evoked the daughter in me, but it also made me look at the mother, the grandmother, the maid who eventually becomes a family friend, and wonder about the lives they had before I knew them through those roles.
*And I Am the Arrow* is nuanced, beautiful and genuinely haunting. It is tragic, but somehow also deeply wholesome. It made me cry, but it also felt like a book that would sit beside you while you cried.
Perhaps its most unsettling idea is that the people we demand answers from may themselves have spent their lives trying to survive questions they never knew how to answer.
Because life is a big loophole.
And sometimes, understanding someone does not mean finally finding the answer. It means having enough of the story to see them as a whole person.
August 23, 2026
And I Am The Arrow is a beautifully written piece, showcasing the monologues of Chatterjee Mansion's three generation of women. And, a mysterious narrator called Opor/ Neech (kinda reminds me of the narrator in The Book Thief).
The hidden struggles of the women all come to light as the matriach Niyoti goes into coma, Ira (the daugter in law of Niyoti) and Mishu (the granddaughter) tries everything in their power to amend the bond that was broken because of Niyoti, at the same time unravelling family secrets that has been kept hidden, knowing it could break everyone in the Chatterjee mansion. Opor/Neech is also a very interesting character, whom I can safely associate to death or as "Death" himself. He serves as the narrator of the novel and intricately weaves the stories of the three women together.
Niyoti is depicted as this rather radical and hard-driven woman, but underneath that facade is a dark secret that she was forced to face alone as a child. When she was young, she was sexually abused and instead of being defended by her parents, she was blamed for it. It was unfathomable for a child to process all of this, and to be left alone to deal with grief (because in that moment, she has lost her childhood in an instant). The struggles of Ira and Mishu also becomes magnified as the story progresses. This book also emphasizes how people deal with grief in their own way. With the death of Niyoti's son, Ira's husband, Mishu's father, they all created different ways to cope with the loss and held on to each other but in more destructive and unhealthy ways. Niyoti had to claim and hold on to Mishu, because she felt like this was the only way she could have a part of his son. Ira had to give way to Niyoti holding on to Mishu, because she understands the immense lose too as she is a mother herself. And Mishu was envious of Niyoti and Ira because they got to spend more time with her dad and she only got eight years of him as his daughter.
The novel has raw and character-driven stories that explore trauma, grief, purpose, and self-discovery without resorting to cliches. A highly recommended read for those seeking stories that stays with you long after the final page! 📖
The hidden struggles of the women all come to light as the matriach Niyoti goes into coma, Ira (the daugter in law of Niyoti) and Mishu (the granddaughter) tries everything in their power to amend the bond that was broken because of Niyoti, at the same time unravelling family secrets that has been kept hidden, knowing it could break everyone in the Chatterjee mansion. Opor/Neech is also a very interesting character, whom I can safely associate to death or as "Death" himself. He serves as the narrator of the novel and intricately weaves the stories of the three women together.
Niyoti is depicted as this rather radical and hard-driven woman, but underneath that facade is a dark secret that she was forced to face alone as a child. When she was young, she was sexually abused and instead of being defended by her parents, she was blamed for it. It was unfathomable for a child to process all of this, and to be left alone to deal with grief (because in that moment, she has lost her childhood in an instant). The struggles of Ira and Mishu also becomes magnified as the story progresses. This book also emphasizes how people deal with grief in their own way. With the death of Niyoti's son, Ira's husband, Mishu's father, they all created different ways to cope with the loss and held on to each other but in more destructive and unhealthy ways. Niyoti had to claim and hold on to Mishu, because she felt like this was the only way she could have a part of his son. Ira had to give way to Niyoti holding on to Mishu, because she understands the immense lose too as she is a mother herself. And Mishu was envious of Niyoti and Ira because they got to spend more time with her dad and she only got eight years of him as his daughter.
The novel has raw and character-driven stories that explore trauma, grief, purpose, and self-discovery without resorting to cliches. A highly recommended read for those seeking stories that stays with you long after the final page! 📖
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Review of advance copy
It’s incredibly special to get to be the first to review this genre-defying gem of a novel. Spiky yet soft, dark yet funny, playful yet bold — And I Am The Arrow goes beyond the constraints of what fiction can be, taking its reader into a lush, unexpected journey of secrets and twists.
This book explores the blurred boundaries between love and hate, and life and death. I was hooked from the very first page; the writing is absolutely magnetic, experimental and alive with each character’s unique voice. The chapters of Opor/Neech, the ghost, in particular are unlike anything I’ve read before — fresh, cinematic and breathtaking in their scope; I loved every word (and wordplay). And the women! — punchy, morally grey, and each armoured in their own way. Not a single character is written without complexity and depth… this debut novel is an emotional powerhouse, told beautifully with immense originality and skill.
And I Am The Arrow is an incredibly rare book that turns words into a second home, and its characters into a second family — one that will stay with you long after you finish reading. It’s a book that I will return to again and again.
This book explores the blurred boundaries between love and hate, and life and death. I was hooked from the very first page; the writing is absolutely magnetic, experimental and alive with each character’s unique voice. The chapters of Opor/Neech, the ghost, in particular are unlike anything I’ve read before — fresh, cinematic and breathtaking in their scope; I loved every word (and wordplay). And the women! — punchy, morally grey, and each armoured in their own way. Not a single character is written without complexity and depth… this debut novel is an emotional powerhouse, told beautifully with immense originality and skill.
And I Am The Arrow is an incredibly rare book that turns words into a second home, and its characters into a second family — one that will stay with you long after you finish reading. It’s a book that I will return to again and again.
August 29, 2026
“The length of this story, like any story, is not in how long it takes to be told, Boombody, but in how long it is remembered.
And that only Time can tell. Vicious cycle.”
The best book of 2026. Yes. I’m deeply disturbed because the book made me uncomfortable. It ached me, brought a grief that knows no bounds, and the trauma slowly seeped into my skin by travelling from the narrators to me. Despite all of that, I couldn’t escape the beauty of its nuanced storytelling and masterful narration. And the fact that this is a debut novel makes it even more remarkable. So many emotions can coexist in your body and mind. Accept them. Embrace them.
CHATTERJEE MANSION is like an age-old banyan tree, with multiple branches spreading across generations, its roots so strong that they protect the shadows of countless secrets. This mansion has witnessed everything.secrets, grief, loss, love, crime and death. We get to know its story through three generations of women: Niyoti Chatterjee, the matriarch of the mansion; Ira and Mishika, aka Mishu. The fourth narrator is called Opor/Neech, which roughly translates to Upper and Lower in English. Now, who do you think this person is? A ghost of a man cut in two on a railway track. Yes. Brace yourself. You know what could come with that.
Opor/Neech is such a fascinating character. He could be a metaphor for death or the afterlife, the supreme presence watching everything unfold. To me, he is like a friend, someone who makes you feel at home. This is dark, uncomfortable, unsettling and yet strangely humorous. There is a sense of homeliness even within all the darkness.
Each of them shares their own experience and their version of endurance. Grief and loss are what hold the thread together, but each of them has a different way of dealing with them.
The narration is marvellous. There’s suspense, spookiness and enough unsettling moments to make you shut the book and think, “Enough. I’m not going to continue.” But then your heart tells you to keep going. To navigate the uncomfortable destination. You want to know what happened to them because they’re lonely. They need someone to embrace them. All of them have suffered, but nothing could break them. They fought. They never gave up. And you shouldn’t either.
And that only Time can tell. Vicious cycle.”
The best book of 2026. Yes. I’m deeply disturbed because the book made me uncomfortable. It ached me, brought a grief that knows no bounds, and the trauma slowly seeped into my skin by travelling from the narrators to me. Despite all of that, I couldn’t escape the beauty of its nuanced storytelling and masterful narration. And the fact that this is a debut novel makes it even more remarkable. So many emotions can coexist in your body and mind. Accept them. Embrace them.
CHATTERJEE MANSION is like an age-old banyan tree, with multiple branches spreading across generations, its roots so strong that they protect the shadows of countless secrets. This mansion has witnessed everything.secrets, grief, loss, love, crime and death. We get to know its story through three generations of women: Niyoti Chatterjee, the matriarch of the mansion; Ira and Mishika, aka Mishu. The fourth narrator is called Opor/Neech, which roughly translates to Upper and Lower in English. Now, who do you think this person is? A ghost of a man cut in two on a railway track. Yes. Brace yourself. You know what could come with that.
Opor/Neech is such a fascinating character. He could be a metaphor for death or the afterlife, the supreme presence watching everything unfold. To me, he is like a friend, someone who makes you feel at home. This is dark, uncomfortable, unsettling and yet strangely humorous. There is a sense of homeliness even within all the darkness.
Each of them shares their own experience and their version of endurance. Grief and loss are what hold the thread together, but each of them has a different way of dealing with them.
The narration is marvellous. There’s suspense, spookiness and enough unsettling moments to make you shut the book and think, “Enough. I’m not going to continue.” But then your heart tells you to keep going. To navigate the uncomfortable destination. You want to know what happened to them because they’re lonely. They need someone to embrace them. All of them have suffered, but nothing could break them. They fought. They never gave up. And you shouldn’t either.
September 6, 2026
Pia Roy-Ghosh wrote a book that can't to be put neatly in a genre box. It is dark and funny and strange and bold, all in the same breath. It's a genre-defying story that moves between the living and the dead, across generations, continents and the rooms of Chatterjee Mansion.
At the centre are Mishu, her mother Ira, her matriarch grandmother, Niyoti and Bani. When Niyoti falls into a coma, old secrets surface, and Mishu finds herself looking at the people she thought she knew through a different lens. There is Opor/Neech, the ghost of a man cut in two on a railway track, whose presence makes the story stranger, funnier and more haunting.
Their stories stretch across generations and memories, revealing how much of a person can remain hidden even when you have known them your entire life.
We think we know people.
We call someone difficult or eccentric or bitter or cold without ever wondering what happened to them. How their quirks, silences, obsessions, their ways of loving or not loving might actually be a residue of something that happened decades ago. Ghosh-Roy looks at people and shows the story hiding underneath them.
Slowly... Narrator by narrator, story by story, I felt the trauma moving through me, almost physically as if something from their lives had followed me out of the pages. I wasn't just reading about their trauma anymore but tiny pieces of it were coursing through my veins.
Four women, four histories, four different ways of enduring; bruised by loss, patriarchy, grief and choices made before they ever had a say in them. Yet they keep going. Sometimes fiercely, sometimes imperfectly or by simply surviving another day.
This isn't just a story about what happens to people but what happens inside people and how much of a life can remain hidden behind the person we think we know.
Read it if you're ready to be changed forever.
At the centre are Mishu, her mother Ira, her matriarch grandmother, Niyoti and Bani. When Niyoti falls into a coma, old secrets surface, and Mishu finds herself looking at the people she thought she knew through a different lens. There is Opor/Neech, the ghost of a man cut in two on a railway track, whose presence makes the story stranger, funnier and more haunting.
Their stories stretch across generations and memories, revealing how much of a person can remain hidden even when you have known them your entire life.
We think we know people.
We call someone difficult or eccentric or bitter or cold without ever wondering what happened to them. How their quirks, silences, obsessions, their ways of loving or not loving might actually be a residue of something that happened decades ago. Ghosh-Roy looks at people and shows the story hiding underneath them.
Slowly... Narrator by narrator, story by story, I felt the trauma moving through me, almost physically as if something from their lives had followed me out of the pages. I wasn't just reading about their trauma anymore but tiny pieces of it were coursing through my veins.
Four women, four histories, four different ways of enduring; bruised by loss, patriarchy, grief and choices made before they ever had a say in them. Yet they keep going. Sometimes fiercely, sometimes imperfectly or by simply surviving another day.
This isn't just a story about what happens to people but what happens inside people and how much of a life can remain hidden behind the person we think we know.
Read it if you're ready to be changed forever.
September 8, 2026
I am writing an unconventional review,how I felt after reading the book. because this book calls for it . A sweeping Multi Generational Saga, You just have to read because I haven't read such a beautiful portrayal of it before.
Best Debut of Year for me, PERIOD!
Best read of this Year after The Vegetarian.
I'm adding spoiler alert but if you still read it before finishing the Book - it's on you 😅.
I honestly don't have any words to describe it. I went through so many different emotions, firstly getting angry at Thima for keeping Mishu away from Ira,Thankful for the bond between Ira and Bani , the lump of a sadness I felt in my throat every time Opor/Neech spoke and when Mishu missed Rathin . Then gradually the book gave me twists rather shocking revelations after every few chapters. When I thought I have predicted what happened, everytime it surprised me which is a very tough thing to do in a contemporary fiction. And even after so many revelations Nothing felt forceful. I thought the only victim was Mishu but turned out the four women of Chatterjee mansion and sadly Rathin was a victim too.
Opor Neech really felt like a dad character. It's so much like Rathin yet doesn't feel like him when he talks all philosophically. He's like a bengali dad who will call you sweetly using a nickname ( Boom body ) , trying to give you some gyan in situations or cracking dad jokes to make the situation lighter. In the last chapter when he explains another meaning of Neech my heart cries for him. I finished the last few pages in tears...but I don't know how Ghosh's writing did made me feel at peace by the end. I am so grateful for being able to read this amazing debut. I will finish it with one sentence - If she writes another book,I'll be the first in line to buy it.
Best Debut of Year for me, PERIOD!
Best read of this Year after The Vegetarian.
I'm adding spoiler alert but if you still read it before finishing the Book - it's on you 😅.
I honestly don't have any words to describe it. I went through so many different emotions, firstly getting angry at Thima for keeping Mishu away from Ira,Thankful for the bond between Ira and Bani , the lump of a sadness I felt in my throat every time Opor/Neech spoke and when Mishu missed Rathin . Then gradually the book gave me twists rather shocking revelations after every few chapters. When I thought I have predicted what happened, everytime it surprised me which is a very tough thing to do in a contemporary fiction. And even after so many revelations Nothing felt forceful. I thought the only victim was Mishu but turned out the four women of Chatterjee mansion and sadly Rathin was a victim too.
Opor Neech really felt like a dad character. It's so much like Rathin yet doesn't feel like him when he talks all philosophically. He's like a bengali dad who will call you sweetly using a nickname ( Boom body ) , trying to give you some gyan in situations or cracking dad jokes to make the situation lighter. In the last chapter when he explains another meaning of Neech my heart cries for him. I finished the last few pages in tears...but I don't know how Ghosh's writing did made me feel at peace by the end. I am so grateful for being able to read this amazing debut. I will finish it with one sentence - If she writes another book,I'll be the first in line to buy it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 8, 2026
And I Am the Arrow is a story about three generations of women from the Chatterjee family in Calcutta: Thima, or Niyoti, the grandmother; Ira, the mother; and Mishu, or Mishika, the daughter. Their story moves back and forth through time, taking us from the 1940s to the present. We slowly move through these timelines and learn more about their lives and their relationships as they narrate their own stories. And then there is Opor/Neech, the ghost of a man split in two, whose presence and absence affect this family's story in ways I won't say more about.
Mishu returns home from New York when her grandmother, Thima, falls into a coma. Back at the Chatterjee home, she is reunited with her grandmother, her mother, and Bani, who works in the household. As old memories and family histories begin to surface, Mishu finds herself struggling to deal with things she never thought she'd have to.
Going in, I had no idea about what to expect from the book. All I knew was that it was a literary fiction by an Indian author, and that alone was enough to pique my interest. Just the first page in, and I was hooked! A few chapters into the book, and I could feel an impending sense of doom.
Let me begin by saying that I absolutely loved the writing. It was so immersive that it made me feel like I was living in one of the rooms of the Chatterjee mansion and witnessing everything unfold around me. Every character is given a voice, and you get to read everyone's point of view. Every chapter revealed another layer of these characters and their lives, and I think it was executed to perfection.
Every character seemed to be carrying things they had never spoken about, things left buried or unresolved, and yet their impact was tremendous. There is so much that exists in the silences between these characters. In the reading update I posted on my stories earlier this week, I mentioned how this book was simply unputdownable. But every once in a while, I put the book down to breathe and to really process everything that was happening and just stare at the ceiling for a while. I even cried towards the end (which, okay, I do cry easily, but this was different. This genuinely moved me).
My favourite narrator, however, was Opor/Neech. He was probably the most fascinating presence in the book for me. He was philosophical one moment and funny in the next. There was something about his narration that made me stop and think. His chapters were the ones I found myself particularly looking forward to.
Every time I thought I understood what had happened or where the story was going, there was something else waiting to be revealed. I really like how these revelations weren't in the story simply for shock value, but actually added depth to the story. And while some of those revelations horrified me, the writing remained impeccable throughout.
One of my favourite moments from the book was shared between Niyoti and Ira, where Niyoti sends Ira some books to read and looks forward to hearing what she thinks of them. This unexpected little exchange between them felt incredibly tender and sweet.
Listening to the backstories of these women was so heartbreaking. There is a lot of unresolved trauma, unspoken things, untold stories, and old wounds still fresh enough to bleed if scratched. It made me rethink every choice I've made, and every word I've spoken out loud.
And I Am the Arrow is the kind of book that lingers. I finished it 3 days ago, but parts of it still feel like they are sitting somewhere in my head. The women of the Chatterjee family, their histories and secrets, their grief, the light peppering of Bengali words (my favourite being 'kyachor-myachor'), the thumris, the food, the heartbreaking moments from this book continue to live with me and consume me. And I think they will do so for a while now.
Mishu returns home from New York when her grandmother, Thima, falls into a coma. Back at the Chatterjee home, she is reunited with her grandmother, her mother, and Bani, who works in the household. As old memories and family histories begin to surface, Mishu finds herself struggling to deal with things she never thought she'd have to.
Going in, I had no idea about what to expect from the book. All I knew was that it was a literary fiction by an Indian author, and that alone was enough to pique my interest. Just the first page in, and I was hooked! A few chapters into the book, and I could feel an impending sense of doom.
Let me begin by saying that I absolutely loved the writing. It was so immersive that it made me feel like I was living in one of the rooms of the Chatterjee mansion and witnessing everything unfold around me. Every character is given a voice, and you get to read everyone's point of view. Every chapter revealed another layer of these characters and their lives, and I think it was executed to perfection.
Every character seemed to be carrying things they had never spoken about, things left buried or unresolved, and yet their impact was tremendous. There is so much that exists in the silences between these characters. In the reading update I posted on my stories earlier this week, I mentioned how this book was simply unputdownable. But every once in a while, I put the book down to breathe and to really process everything that was happening and just stare at the ceiling for a while. I even cried towards the end (which, okay, I do cry easily, but this was different. This genuinely moved me).
My favourite narrator, however, was Opor/Neech. He was probably the most fascinating presence in the book for me. He was philosophical one moment and funny in the next. There was something about his narration that made me stop and think. His chapters were the ones I found myself particularly looking forward to.
Every time I thought I understood what had happened or where the story was going, there was something else waiting to be revealed. I really like how these revelations weren't in the story simply for shock value, but actually added depth to the story. And while some of those revelations horrified me, the writing remained impeccable throughout.
One of my favourite moments from the book was shared between Niyoti and Ira, where Niyoti sends Ira some books to read and looks forward to hearing what she thinks of them. This unexpected little exchange between them felt incredibly tender and sweet.
Listening to the backstories of these women was so heartbreaking. There is a lot of unresolved trauma, unspoken things, untold stories, and old wounds still fresh enough to bleed if scratched. It made me rethink every choice I've made, and every word I've spoken out loud.
And I Am the Arrow is the kind of book that lingers. I finished it 3 days ago, but parts of it still feel like they are sitting somewhere in my head. The women of the Chatterjee family, their histories and secrets, their grief, the light peppering of Bengali words (my favourite being 'kyachor-myachor'), the thumris, the food, the heartbreaking moments from this book continue to live with me and consume me. And I think they will do so for a while now.
Review of advance copy
This will probably be the best book I'll read this year. It's difficult to believe it's a debut. From the very first chapter, you’re aware that you’re in the hands of an incredible storyteller with a wholly original voice.
The story takes you across continents and time, while making pit stops between Life and the Afterlife, through a polyphony of voices – of the women of Chatterjee Mansion and the ghost of a man cut in two halves on a railway track.
Reading this novel makes you realise that contemporary fiction can be innovative as well as engrossing, it doesn’t have to forsake one for the other. It can be both experimental and emotionally resonant, it can play with language and form while being an absolute page-turner. It reminded me after a long time that smart literary fiction can also have soul – that’s what I enjoyed most about And I Am The Arrow. It challenges you, charms you, and catches you unawares in the most unexpected ways. It makes you think.
I found myself rooting for different characters at different times, deeply invested in their lives. The characters are nuanced and familiar, often frustrating and frequently funny; they’re strong but also fragile, kind but also selfish. And my favourite – Opor/Neech the ghost – is more alive than dead. His deliberations strike the pitch perfect note between wryly witty and deeply philosophical, playful and wise; he is the reader’s travelling companion through this generation-spanning story.
And I Am The Arrow is a large and wide epic that feels richly satisfying, with characters whom you come to know intimately. I felt a sharp sense of loss when I turned the last page. What a book!
The story takes you across continents and time, while making pit stops between Life and the Afterlife, through a polyphony of voices – of the women of Chatterjee Mansion and the ghost of a man cut in two halves on a railway track.
Reading this novel makes you realise that contemporary fiction can be innovative as well as engrossing, it doesn’t have to forsake one for the other. It can be both experimental and emotionally resonant, it can play with language and form while being an absolute page-turner. It reminded me after a long time that smart literary fiction can also have soul – that’s what I enjoyed most about And I Am The Arrow. It challenges you, charms you, and catches you unawares in the most unexpected ways. It makes you think.
I found myself rooting for different characters at different times, deeply invested in their lives. The characters are nuanced and familiar, often frustrating and frequently funny; they’re strong but also fragile, kind but also selfish. And my favourite – Opor/Neech the ghost – is more alive than dead. His deliberations strike the pitch perfect note between wryly witty and deeply philosophical, playful and wise; he is the reader’s travelling companion through this generation-spanning story.
And I Am The Arrow is a large and wide epic that feels richly satisfying, with characters whom you come to know intimately. I felt a sharp sense of loss when I turned the last page. What a book!
Review of advance copy
It's a true gift of a book. The narration tells so much about us as human beings. With a poet's sense of incident and language, the novel takes us to an elusive and profound journey of a family. I am trying to process many things. It has unsettled me. Suspense, mystery, humour, hysteria, peace- you name it, and you have it in the book. Also the meta-fictional aspect. It defies the rigidity of any form.
As you proceed with the reading, you realise how tying and untying can merge with one another. Here, the beginning isn't really the beginning, and the end isn't the end. Here, the unexpected arrives expectedly and the expected unexpectedly. The margin moves to the centre and the centre melts.
As a reader, you enter the story, and you just don't want to leave it. All of the book stays back with you long after you've finished reading it.
As you proceed with the reading, you realise how tying and untying can merge with one another. Here, the beginning isn't really the beginning, and the end isn't the end. Here, the unexpected arrives expectedly and the expected unexpectedly. The margin moves to the centre and the centre melts.
As a reader, you enter the story, and you just don't want to leave it. All of the book stays back with you long after you've finished reading it.
September 19, 2026
This book made me feel the feelings and come to the realisations I would have paid 1000s of rupees in therapy for. I loved every line, every flawed and real characters. It’s of beauty and love Boombody. Parents are people too, we never fully understand or know their side of the story. We see the anger, the fear and the frustrations we blame their upbringing their beliefs and values. We never ask why so, why so bitter? Just Why so ? We would all be happy if we were honest with the people we are trying to protect and love. Children don’t ask but children listen.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
i do not want to step out of the chatterjee mansion and leave them behind..
September 13, 2026
A really beautiful meditation on grief, love, and becoming // 4,25 stars
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