“A raucous novel, narrated in deadpan voice-over by Ramesh, a self-described ‘lower lower middle class’ 24-year-old scammer. . . . His perspective is a delight. . . . a tartly entertaining novel, a potential summer blockbuster.” —New York Times Book Review A fresh look at modern-day India hailed as "a monstrously funny and unpredictable wild ride" by Kevin Kwan, New York Times bestselling author of the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy The first kidnapping wasn’t my fault. The others—those were definitely me. Brilliant yet poor, Ramesh Kumar grew up working at his father’s tea stall in the Old City of Delhi. Now, he makes a lucrative living taking tests for the sons of India's elite—a situation that becomes complicated when one of his clients, the sweet but hapless eighteen-year-old Rudi Saxena, places first in the All Indias, the national university entrance exams, thanks to him. Ramesh sees an opportunity—perhaps even an obligation—to cash in on Rudi’s newfound celebrity, not knowing that Rudi’s role on a game show will lead to unexpected love, followed by wild trouble when both young men are kidnapped. But Ramesh outwits the criminals who’ve abducted them, turning the tables and becoming a kidnapper himself. As he leads Rudi through a maze of crimes both large and small, their dizzying journey reveals an India in all its complexity, beauty, and squalor, moving from the bottom rungs to the circles inhabited by the ultra-rich and everywhere in between. A caper, social satire, and love story rolled into one, How to Kidnap the Rich is a wild ride told by a mesmerizing new talent with an electric voice.
This is the journey of a person who hated the word ‘Sanghi’ but ended up happily adopting it as a label. Rahul Roushan shot to fame around 2009–10 as the ‘Pagal Patrakar’, the pseudonym he used while writing for Faking News. Back then he was seen just as a founder-editor of the news satire website with no special interest in politics or ideology. The first time Rahul Roushan was called a Sanghi, he felt deeply offended. After all, he held a Bachelor’s degree in Mathematics from Patna University, a post-graduate diploma in journalism from IIMC in New Delhi, an MBA from IIM Ahmedabad and was a self-made media entrepreneur. Sanghi literally means someone who is a member of the right-wing RSS (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh) or its affiliates, but the ‘liberals’ use the term liberally to deride those who differ with their political and ideological stand, or those who wear Hinduism on their sleeves. This book analyses why Hindutva as an ideology is no longer anathema and what brought about this change. Why did a country that was ruled for decades by people espousing Nehruvian secularism suddenly began to align with the ‘communal politics’ of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)? The book is the story of this transformation. This is not an autobiography, though it could read like one in parts. It is not even a collection of intellectual essays, though it could read like one in parts. It is the retelling of some historical events and how those events impacted the journey of Rahul Roushan and countless people like him. The book looks at factors like education, media, technology and obviously, electoral politics, which played a key role in this transformation.
Between 2009 and 2014, an anti-homosexuality law circulating in the Ugandan parliament came to be the focus of a global conversation about queer rights. The law attracted attention for the draconian nature of its provisions and for the involvement of US evangelical Christian activists who were said to have lobbied for its passage. Focusing on the Ugandan case, this book seeks to understand the encounters and entanglements across geopolitical divides that produce and contest contemporary queerphobias. It investigates the impact and memory of the colonial encounter on the politics of sexuality, the politics of religiosity of different Christian denominations, and the political economy of contemporary homophobic moral panics. In addition, Out of Time places the Ugandan experience in conversation with contemporaneous developments in India and Britain--three locations that are yoked together by the experience of British imperialism and its afterlives. Intervening in a queer theoretical literature on temporality, Rahul Rao argues that time and space matter differently in the queer politics of postcolonial countries. By employing an intersectional analysis and drawing on a range of sources, Rao offers an original interpretation of why queerness mutates to become a metonym for categories such as nationality, religiosity, race, class, and caste. The book argues that these mutations reveal the deep grammars forged in the violence that founds and reproduces the social institutions in which queer difference struggles to make space for itself.
Rahul Pandita was fourteen years old when he was forced to leave his home in Srinagar along with his family. They were Kashmiri Pandits-the Hindu minority within a Muslim-majority Kashmir that was by 1990 becoming increasingly agitated with the cries of 'Azaadi' from India. Our Moon Has Blood Clots is the story of Kashmir, in which hundreds of thousands of Pandits were tortured, killed and forced to leave their homes by Islamist militants, and forced to spend the rest of their lives in exile in their own country. Pandita has written a deeply personal, powerful and unforgettable story of history, home and loss.
Thank you for visiting our website. Would you like to provide feedback on how we could improve your experience?
This site does not use any third party cookies with one exception — it uses cookies from Google to deliver its services and to analyze traffic.Learn More.