The idea of a home is at the heart of Pulayathara, which is not only the first Dalit novel on record (1963) but also one of the founding texts of the Dalit Christian movement in Kerala. It opens with a near vision of Thevan Pulayan’s intense attachment to land; it then leads on to his displacement after decades of devoted service to his upper-caste landlord who, overnight, deprives him of both home and livelihood. Beginning with Pulayathara, the theme that runs through all of Chirakkarode’s works is casteism in Christianity: the role of the Church in the continued enslavement of the Pulayar and the psychological effect it has on a people who abandon their ancestral gods to embrace the new faith. Without a doubt, the Dalit converts for physical and emotional security as well as survival. However, inevitably, disenchantment follows and the search for ‘home’ continues. Is the Dalit Christian any better off than he was before conversion?

This book addresses emancipatory narratives from two main sites in the colonial world, the Indian and southern African subcontinents. Exploring how love and revolution interrelate, this volume is unique in drawing on theories of affect to interrogate histories of the political, thus linking love and revolution together. The chapters engage with the affinities of those who live with their colonial pasts: crises of expectations, colonial national convulsions, memories of anti-colonial solidarity, even shared radical libraries. It calls attention to the specific and singular way in which notions of ‘love of the world’ were born in a precise moment of anti-colonial struggle: a love of the world for which one would offer one’s life, and for which there had been little precedent in the history of earlier revolutions. It thus offers new ways of understanding the shifts in global traditions of emancipation over two centuries.

Series statement from cover.

A literary masterpiece (translated from the Tamil) that opens a door to the poignant world of India's 'untouchables'.

In Karachi, a writer house-sits for her father and his cat, while keeping track of his - the cat’s - list of obsessions: ironed white sheets, kheer, KFC fries, warm custard, finely chopped sausages, and the flaky tops of chicken patties. In San Francisco, a couple adopt a cat, without anticipating what it will do to their relationship. In Noida, a cat and two dogs line up peacefully every morning for their daily dose of vitamin syrup. In Bombay, a lyricist and screenwriter roots through the litter tray first thing in the morning, to investigate if his cat’s UTI is better. In wintry London, a young millennial wonders if she is actually a cat. Capturing the many moods of felines and their humans, in many forms and voices, Cat People, is a timely celebration of the most memed creature today: the cat. This collection of short stories, personal essays, lists, original art and photographs is are a treat, not just for cat lovers everywhere, but for all who love a story well-told – and, on occasion, a theory well-spun.

One fateful day, Deepti vanishes mysteriously. Baffled by her disappearance and consumed with grief, Prakash, her husband, loses his eyesight. For Prakash, the inexplicable loss of his wife is doubly painful because she was pregnant with their child. And no amount of consolation can bring him solace in the years that ensue. Into this void steps Rajani, a woman with a tormented past. Despite her initial disdain of Prakash, she steadily finds herself drawn to him. And although an intense desire brings them together, Prakash is unable to give Rajani the love she craves just as he is powerless to dispel the luminous memory of Deepti. But where will this grave obsession lead? The Unseeing Idol of Light is a haunting tale that explores love and loss, blindness and sight, obsession and suffering-and the poignant interconnections between them.

Ann Marie reads fragments of her dead husband's unfinished book, and the many love letters he sent her, and in them the social and political events of the time. As she ponders over the writing and the years that the brilliant Jithendran squandered working for a toy company that makes drum-playing monkeys, the narrative gives way to the sweeping saga of a village by the river Periyar. Grappling with issues of equality, love, caste, religion and politics, Thachanakkara is a microcosm of twentieth-century Kerala. Told through the history of three generations of a feudal Nair family, this sprawling story is reminiscent of the craft of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude and has the scale of Sunil Gangopadhyay's Those Days. Manushyanu Oru Amukham is an artistic meditation on human existence and is a contemporary classic.

For the first time ever, it had dawned on him that women who sold their bodies could have such shapely figures.' Kanta and Khushia were part of the same profession. He was her pimp, and, in a way, one of her own. All of twenty-eight, Khushia was quite a businessman. While he knew all the girls in his circuit through and through, what he didn't know was that one day Kanta Kumari would stand naked before him and throw him into the greatest turmoil of his life. Manto's characters are known to vehemently resist categorization, and this is especially true in the case of Khushia and Kanta who don't behave as they are expected to. Read on to revisit one of Manto's most fascinating takes on human behaviour.