Books take you places. In this book's case, every place unimaginable if you have had a guarded normal life. It takes you to places where riots happened, in the times when it happened, and makes you sink deep in the skin of one who is running for his life, feel their fears, their helplessness.
It takes you to footpath, makes you live the life of his characters have lived, for a while after you've finished the story, and it is still looming over your head and as you come back to your senses you feel thankful, you do not belong to that kind of life. That it is just a short story, reality of someone else's life may be, but not yours.
It takes you to the last day of a suicide bomber, her anguish, her restlessness, moment of fear and then the moment of victory of her fear, the moment of finality. She had to constantly remind herself that for her, there was no tomorrow.
It gives you glance inside a person's thoughts who lay in the rubble of earthquake stricken area.
It took me to the day Sahir Ludhianvi died.
It also took me to all the places I have recently been to. Devprayag, Anandprayag, Rudraprayag. Joshimath. Gulzar and me were travelling together now. I was watching uttarakhand from his eyes. The roads, the mountains, the sky, and snake like river followed us everywhere.
This book is quite a journey!