Skip to main content

The Cloudburst - Rajesh Naiksatam - Book Review

The Cloudburst is an interesting read about 9 strangers meeting under peculiar circumstance. 
A rainy night forces them all to introspect, deeply on their lives, past future and present.




Ganpu Appla is 15 years old and has lost his ancestral home to Capitalists in Dabhol. Now he stays in a shack in Mumbai with his parents, helping them run a tea stall near the BKC.
This story is about one night when heavy downpour of rain strands 9 strangers under the battered roof of  Taplu Tea Stall.

And this rainy night leads the principal characters to delve deep into their lives. From confronting their personal demons, to the issues surrounding them and their families, they reflect and their thoughts them together in an inspiring way. Ganpu saves them all with his quick wit and his exceptional skills.

On the side track, the reader witnesses the lives of the parents and relatives of the children stranded in the horrendous rain. In a frantic search of their children, the parents introspect over their own lives and how they have been raising their children. 

The Cloudburst is a good read, which does not slow down and moves at a consistent pace. The author has kept the chapters brief and the narrative crisp.


Comments

Also read

Cutting people off isn’t strength—It is a trauma response

Your ability to cut people off and self-isolate is not a skill you should be proud of—It is a trauma response Cutting people off and self-isolating may feel like a protective shield, but it is often rooted in unresolved or unhealed trauma and an inability to depend on others. While these behaviors seem like self-preservation, they end up reinforcing isolation and blocking meaningful connections. Confronting these patterns, seeking therapy, and nurturing supportive relationships can help break this unhealthy cycle. Plus, a simple act like planting a jasmine plant can symbolise the start of your journey towards emotional healing. Why do we cut people off and isolate? If you’re someone who prides themselves on “cutting people off” or keeping a tight circle, you might believe it’s a skill—a way to protect yourself from betrayal, hurt, or unnecessary drama. I get it. I’ve been there, too. But here’s the thing: this ability to isolate yourself is not as empowering as it may seem. In fact, i...

Spill the Tea: Ira and the quiet exhaustion of being watched

Ira comes for tea and slowly reveals a life shaped by emotional surveillance. Loved, watched, and quietly evaluated by her parents, she lives under constant explanation. Through food, posture, and confession, she names the exhaustion of being known too well and finds nourishment not just in eating, but in finally being heard. Ira arrived  five minutes early and apologized for it. The way people do when they are used to taking responsibility for time itself. She said it lightly, as if time itself had offended her. She wore a white A-line shirtdress, clean and careful, the kind that looks chosen for comfort but ends up signaling restraint. When she sat down, she folded herself into the chair unconsciously. One leg rested on the floor, the other tucked underneath her, knees visible. It was not a pose meant to be seen. It slipped out before her body remembered how to protect itself. I noticed the brief softness of it, the quiet vulnerability, before she settled and forgot. I was still...

Not Quite Dead Yet- Holly Jackson- A review

Is Not Quite Dead Yet all hype and no heart? A review of Holly Jackson’s thriller You pick up Not Quite Dead Yet expecting a clever, grown up thriller, but you are handed melodrama dressed as urgency. This long form review questions the hype, critiques its shallow characterisation, and asks whether a ticking clock can replace emotional depth, moral consequence, and believable storytelling. Why do you pick up a book that promises a woman will die in seven days? You know this feeling. You walk into a bookshop or scroll online, tired after a long day, and you want certainty. You want a hook that grabs you by the collar and says, “This will matter.” A countdown does exactly that. Seven days to live. A woman solving her own murder. The premise feels urgent, cinematic, and engineered to keep you turning pages even when your better judgement whispers otherwise. Publishing statistics support this instinct. According to data shared by The New York Times and NPR , thrillers with ...