Some books live in my mind. Academic books that speak to my reasoning. Some find their way into my heart, tugging at its chords without reason. Then there are the books that survive in my soul, carving a corner for themselves whether I want them to or not. Sleeping on Jupiter by Anuradha Roy has found its way there or perhaps it’s taken a piece of it away.
The story of Nomi, Latika, Vidya, Gouri, Badal, and Suraj is one of the hardest I’ve read. Specifically Nomi. The prose is beautiful but Nomi’s story struck a personal chord so deep within that I found myself reacting physically at times. Feeling panicked, nauseous and as if the world was caving around me at a point in the story. It was devastating in a way I didn’t think was possible.
This book ruined me in a way that I can’t even begin to write about the story. I don’t when I’ll recover. What I know is that it will live with me in a deep corner for quite some time.