Operation Sindoor : India's New Normal Perfect by Roshni Sengupta, Chandni Sengupta


Rating: 5/5

I picked this up because I wanted the real story — not hot takes, not guesses, just what actually happened in Pahalgam and what India did after. I wanted facts, names, context. What I got from Roshni Sengupta and Chandni Sengupta is exactly that: a clear, honest, no-fluff telling of the attack, the response, and the long history behind it.

The Pahalgam chapter — it hit me in the chest

The section on April 22, 2025 broke me. The authors don’t sanitize anything. They tell you who those people were, how the attack unfolded, and what was taken from families in a single, awful moment. I felt real grief reading it — sadness for the victims, and anger that such things still happen. The writing forced me to stop and remember the human lives behind the headlines. That emotional honesty is the book’s soul.

The victims are remembered — not reduced to numbers

One of the best parts: the victims aren’t anonymous. The book lists them carefully, with small details that make them real — names, short sketches, small facts that make you see them as people, not statistics. That respect matters. It made me hold the weight of the tragedy instead of turning the page and moving on.

It’s not just about one day — it’s a longer story

This book doesn’t pretend Pahalgam came from nowhere. The authors lay out how cross-border terrorism evolved since 1947 and how patterns repeated over decades. Reading that history helped me understand why India’s response couldn’t just be a one-off revenge strike. It gave me context — the “why” behind the action — and that made the whole thing far more convincing.

“The Narrative War” — how facts get twisted

I loved the chapter called The Narrative War. It shows how facts are bent into stories that suit certain agendas — by outsiders, by some leftist commentators, and by Pakistan-aligned narratives. The Senguptas take those misleading claims apart piece by piece. If you’ve ever had to argue with someone pushing false narratives online, this chapter gives you the ammunition — calmly and clearly.

Operation Sindoor — detailed, step-by-step, convincing

The account of Operation Sindoor itself is the book’s backbone. It walks you through the diplomatic steps before the strike, the intelligence that made it possible, and the operational moves during the mission. The authors don’t glamorize it — they explain it. The level of detail (including photos and maps) made it obvious to me that this was planned, measured, and meant to hit terror infrastructure, not to create chaos. That clarity made me trust the book’s conclusions

Photos, timelines, real detail — very impressive

This isn’t a vague, emotional take. The book backs up its points with photos, timelines, and on-the-ground details. That visual and documentary evidence makes the account tough to dismiss. I kept thinking: anyone spreading misinformation can be shown these pages and told to explain them. That kind of documentation matters a lot.

A practical book — useful for real conversations

Reading this, I felt armed. If someone tries to twist what happened, I can point to the timelines, the diplomatic moves, the victims’ list, and the chapter on narratives. This book is useful not just for understanding history, but for defending the truth in conversations, online threads, or even classrooms.

The authors did a solid job — clear and honest

Roshni and Chandni put a lot of work into assembling material that’s scattered across reports, statements, and media. They organized it into something readable and direct. They’re clearly moved by what happened, but they don’t lose the plot: facts come first, then feeling. That balance is rare and powerful.

Small caveat — not a dry academic tome (and that’s fine)

If you want an academic paper that debates every opposing view in footnote-heavy language, this isn’t that. It’s written to be read by regular people who want the truth. For its purpose — recording Pahalgam, explaining Sindoor, and pushing back against false narratives — it succeeds completely.

Final word

I finished Operation Sindoor: India’s New Normal convinced and moved. It honors the victims, explains the history, and makes a tight case for why India acted the way it did. It’s emotional where it should be, factual where it must be, and practical for anyone fighting misinformation. Brutally honest about the horror, methodical about the response — this book deserves a full five stars from me. If you want truth and clarity on what happened and why, read this book.

Review of Lieutenant Norman by Goutham Kool Monk


Rating: 5/5

I picked up Lieutenant Norman expecting a touching animal story and I was not prepared for how deeply it would move me. Right away the narrative feels cinematic and direct — the scenes play out like short, powerful film moments that make you sit forward and care. The centrality of Norman, a military dog whose life is shaped by service and loss, gives the book an emotional lens that never feels gimmicky; it feels lived-in and urgent.

The story (without spoilers) — simple plot, big feelings

At its core the plot is straightforward: Norman serves with his handler in dangerous situations, suffers a career-changing injury, and is retired into civilian life where a widow, Sapphire, and her son Joe bring him into their home. Even in peace, Norman carries the memory of battle; he becomes the quiet leader of a quirky “Pet Squad,” and when Joe is taken by a villain with a grudge against the K9 program, Norman’s loyalty drives the rescue that follows. The events are not ornate, but the restraint is a strength — the book trusts its emotional beats and lets them land.

Characters & relationships — the book’s real power

This is a character-first book. Norman is written with respect: he’s brave and wounded, stubbornly humane in his instincts. Sapphire and Joe are sketched with enough warmth that their bond with Norman feels authentic rather than constructed. The human characters act as mirrors for Norman’s grief and healing, and the Pet Squad adds lightness and resourcefulness without undercutting the stakes. The relationships are what stayed with me long after I closed the book.

Themes — trauma, healing, and quiet courage

What surprised me most was how the book treats trauma — not as a melodramatic device but as a quiet, persistent weight that affects both animals and people. Recovery in this story is communal: patience, small rituals, and the steady presence of love. Loyalty and service are celebrated, yes, but the novel also asks what duty costs and how those costs are carried when the uniform is gone. That thematic honesty is what makes the book emotionally true.

Writing style & pacing — cinematic and unpretentious

The prose leans toward cinematic description and brisk scenes rather than dense exposition. That gives the book a strong forward momentum — action sequences feel immediate, and quieter moments breathe. The author’s background as a storyteller (and filmmaker) shows: imagery is visual, and the narrative often reads like a sequence of short vignettes that together build a full emotional arc. That style kept me engaged and made the emotional moments hit harder.

What moved me — why this one matters

I found myself unexpectedly teary in several places — not because the author piled on misery, but because the book cares about small, humane details: the way a dog tilts his head, the ritual of a wounded body learning to trust touch again, the courage it takes to keep loving after loss. If you’re someone who feels deeply for animals and for quiet acts of bravery, this book will stay with you. It reminded me that heroism isn’t only about medals and battles; sometimes it’s about showing up when someone needs you most.

Final verdict — a wholehearted recommendation

I recommend Lieutenant Norman to anyone who wants an emotional, character-driven read about loyalty, healing, and the bond between humans and animals. It’s a short, cinematic novel that punches above its weight emotionally. I’m glad I read it — it left me softer, a little wiser about service and sorrow, and very grateful for stories that honor the silent courage of animals.