The Ones that Lingered
Some stories stay with you. Not because they’re flawless, or life-changing, or even because you read them recently, but because something in them took hold and didn’t let go.
These are a few of the books that did that for me.
1. Crying in H Mart – Michelle Zauner
This one settled in my body more than my brain. It was about grief, yes, but also food, language, identity, and how we carry love that was never easy. I finished it and kept thinking about the way she described the small details, rice, hair, and silence at the kitchen table, and how that was enough to bring someone back. I didn’t move on from this book quickly. It stayed.
2. When Breath Becomes Air – Paul Kalanithi
I read this in a quiet season of my life, and it hasn’t really left since. There’s something about the clarity of his voice even at the edge of dying that made everything else feel still for a while. It’s not just about medicine or mortality, it’s about choosing to say something before you can’t. The language is gentle, but the impact is sharp. It lingers.
P.S. Do not listen to the audiobook version while driving; it is hazardous.
3. Independence – Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
This novel surprised me. Every time I came back to it, the novel opened in a new direction. It’s set during Partition, but it’s not just historical, it’s deeply personal. The lives of three sisters unfold against the backdrop of national upheaval, but the real power is in the quiet negotiations: love, freedom, responsibility. It’s a novel that lingers not just because of what it depicts, but because of how it feels, attentive, tender, and expansive.
4. The Storyteller’s Secret – Sejal Badani
This book arrived during an in-between time in my life, and it met me there. It moves across generations and countries, holding trauma, love, and memory with real care. What I appreciated most was how it didn’t try to resolve everything; it just listened. It gave space to grief without rushing to heal it, and that felt generous.
This isn’t a definitive list. Just a handful of stories I’ve been carrying lately. Others have stayed with me in different ways, and I imagine more will find their place here, too. The shelf is always expanding.
Until we meet again.
