February is a month for love; not just romantic love but love for friends, family, and most importantly, love for yourself. Inspired by our ongoing self-love giveaway, our editor’s note is more of a note to ourselves to stop and smell the roses.
BGB has reached some big milestones recently: we’ve grown to over 11k followers across our platforms. We have partnered with South Asian brands we admire like One Stripe Chai Co. And, to date, we have received 100 books from publishers and authors.
We also celebrated one year of launching our guest review program, which allowed us to welcome 45 amazing guest reviewers to our platform. BGB guest reviewers have allowed us to promote South Asian writing far beyond what we could have accomplished alone (and they are, in our totally unbiased opinion, the best-read and best-looking group around)!
January also tested us in some ways: it isn’t always easy for us to balance full-time jobs, our personal lives, and content creation; but stopping to see how far we’ve come and the crew we have alongside us, is so fulfilling.
Until next time,
Mishika and Sri
See No Stranger by Valarie Kaur
Not all South Asian stories are told equally. The majority of books that I have read for BGB have included nostalgia about India, words in Hindi or Urdu, or addressed society, class, women’s rights, or life in the intersections of identity. While stunning, many of these books speak to my Indian American heritage but don’t clue in my Sikh American identity.
Valarie Kaur’s writing feels familiar because her activism is grounded in the teachings of the Sikh faith. Her thesis can be put simply: love must be practiced in multiple directions—towards the self, towards the other, and, most laboriously of all, toward the enemy. When plucked from her pages as a lone sentence, her message is inspiring. When colorized with narratives from her life and the lives of the people with whom she has labored, it proves to be strenuous yet achievable. Our shared religious conviction tethers a healthy idealism in this singularly strange and challenging past year(+).
“See No Stranger” left a profound impression on me. Perhaps that’s why writing this review is so difficult; because what do you say about a book that embodies the reason we created BGB? What do you say about someone who you don’t personally know but deeply admire? And how do you thank someone for publishing a book that pushes for greater awareness about Sikhism by meditating on our history of sacrifice, service, and resilience in the face of hate crimes, brutal tragedies, and ongoing hardships? Valarie Kaur, I feel seen. Thank you.
Get your copy of “See No Stranger.”
My Sweet Girl by Amanda Jayatissa
“Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que sera, sera.”
“The messy, twisted, and at times infuriating story of Paloma, an orphan from Sri Lanka adopted by the quintessential perfect American couple, will lead you to believe this classic cliché,” shares guest reviewer Shipra Sharma.
Paloma is a first-generation millennial working to overcome the trials and tribulations of her identity and the lasting effects of trauma. Her encounters as a woman of color in a predominantly white area raise conversations about balancing a multi-hyphenated identity. However, rather than consume the plotline, the South Asian attributes were subtly layered into the story. For example, Paloma recounts the time Mrs. Evans, her adoptive mom, forced her to stop using coconut oil as a child, only to later rave about it when it became a trend — a familiar tale to many living in the diaspora.
In Paloma, Jayatissa has masterfully created an unreliable and toxic narrator, yet still a character who, despite her many annoying flaws, is just relatable enough that readers will root for her. Readers follow her thrilling tale of understanding, troubleshooting, and accepting her own psyche as a result of the traumatic event she undergoes at the beginning of the novel.
If you pay close attention, the twist in “My Sweet Girl” is apparent. But Paloma’s enraged and unstable storytelling will leave you doubting if her story was real. As Paloma races to get a grip over her sanity, solve her blackmailing roommate’s murder, and face Mohini - the ghost that has been haunting her since childhood - the reader will be hooked to her nerve-wracking and sinister tale.
Get your copy of “My Sweet Girl.”
Lucky Boy by Shanthi Sekaran
“Shanthi Sekaran’s ‘Lucky Boy’ tells a story of two women, Soli and Kavya, who love and care for the same child,” recaps guest reviewer Brinda Ryali.
By switching perspectives, Sekaran’s work reads as two starkly different, but equally gripping, books: readers witness Soli’s treacherous journey across the US/Mexico border and follow Kavya at the wedding of a Silicon Valley tycoon as she avoids questions about getting pregnant. With a heartbreaking twist, their stories collide, and I found myself torn between their happiness.
Soli’s story humanizes those who live undocumented in the United States. While I will never understand Soli’s plight, Sekaran’s words opened a window into what it may feel like to live in constant fear, while being dehumanized for seeking a better life for their children. As a reader, I resonated more with Kavya, a second-generation South Asian woman living in the Bay Area. Despite her success, Kavya doesn’t feel like her accomplishments are enough to make her immigrant parents proud. Incomparable with Soli’s hardships, Kavya’s greatest challenge is getting pregnant.
While justifying Kavya’s privileged perspective, I had to confront my own biases about motherhood. Given raising biological children isn’t the only or right way to be a parent, does that take away a biological mother’s inherent right to her child?
Soli’s boundless love for her son and resilience are touching; but, her circumstances highlight the unjust world we live in where resilience is required because our systems don’t protect those who are vulnerable. Sekaran’s novel is saturated with ethical questions about maternal love, privilege, and the undocumented experience.
Get your copy of “Lucky Boy.”
Taste Makers by Mayukh Sen
“If you’re interested in the world of food, this is a must-have for your bookshelf,” raves guest reviewer Shruti Thundiyil. Mayukh Sen beautifully crafts the stories of seven immigrant women in an industry that didn’t give them the long-lasting recognition they deserved.
“Taste Makers” is not just a biography, but an exploration of the influence of food on the immigrant identity. It also dives into the uncomfortable truth of which immigrant stories are truly valued. While the contributions of these women have inspired much of America’s most popular and commercially successful cuisines, they have been willfully neglected from the nation’s culinary history. Sen shines a light on how the food media, which was predominantly white and male at the time, received and even exploited the skills of these industry newcomers. Also notable was Sen’s personal reflection of what drew him to these stories, his experience in the food industry, and the specific decisions he made while writing this book.
The stories of these trailblazing, successful women were inspiring. I loved learning about their journeys—of opening up a restaurant while blind, teaching cooking classes in an apartment in a new country, and being amongst the first to ever host a cooking TV show. It’s a shame most Americans will not have heard of their names if not for this book.
If any, my only complaint is that I wish this book was longer. I could read a hundred more pages about each of the women, all of whom had fascinating lives filled with perseverance, passion for food, and a community built around their contributions.
Get your copy of “Taste Makers.”
The Boy with Fire by Aparna Verma
“Someone once told me that ghosts are memories that haunt us before we can let them go.”
This quote from Aparna Verma’s desi-inspired fantasy fiction, “The Boy with Fire”, holds true for her characters, who are each troubled by memories.
The novel takes place in the kingdom of Ravani which is on the brink of two wars—a civil war caused by economic unrest and a long-standing war with the neighboring kingdom of Jantar. Verma’s characters include a king who harbors painful secrets about his past, a would-be queen who wants to forge a new future not tarnished by old memories, and a broken warrior who is unsure about both his past and future.
The story draws parallels to historical and modern-day events, making the struggles faced by the characters relatable and relevant. “I love that characters have multiple shades of gray and are not portrayed as morally right or wrong,” notes guest reviewer Sumithra Krishnan. However, we are only given a few quick glimpses into their back story and motivations. This limits the space the reader has to grieve, root for, or empathize with the characters. The detailed world-building is covered quickly in the initial chapters of the book instead of being slowly introduced as the story progresses, making this mythical universe initially somewhat overwhelming.
Overall, the book has a great premise and is an enjoyable story, though I would caution against comparing it to other fantasy novels as doing so may create false expectations. Verma creates a universe of her own, complete with its own unique quirks, border hassles, religious fanaticism, myths, and prophecies.
Get your copy of “The Boy with Fire.”
Books published in January:
Sandalwood Scented Skeletons by Rhea Dhanboora
The Kural: Tiruvalluvar's Tirukkural translated into English by Thomas Hitoshi Pruiksma
The Taste of Ginger by Mansi Shah
Books coming out this month:
Lifepass by Payal Kadakia
Brown Girl Like Me by Jaspreet Kaur (win a signed copy in our giveaway!)
Would I Lie to You? by Aliya Ali Afzal