The Midnight Library

The Midnight Library — Matt Haig

An imperfect life can still be loved.

Some books reach us when we have very little strength left. The Midnight Library reached me at such a time.

After ten years of illness, my recent eight days in hospital brought a weariness that went far beyond physical pain. Repeated cannulations, helpless hours, eyes fixed on the ceiling while tears slipped quietly from their corners… Somewhere deep within, I was tired of having to gather courage all over again.

I wanted relief. I wanted an ordinary day that did not ask so much of me.

Reading about Nora Seed, a woman overwhelmed by regret who enters a library of lives she might have lived, made me ponder my own. Nora searches for a life she can love. I began to wonder whether I had given myself enough time to love mine.

For years, I had been managing—my illness, my responsibilities, my worry about everyone else. Getting through treatment so I could return to duties. Gathering strength so I could finish what was pending. Even rest had become preparation for the next thing I needed to do.

I had been fighting so hard to stay alive that living had begun to feel like something I would do later.

When I was stronger.

When the work was finished.

When there was less to worry about.

But my children were growing through all those “whens”. The tea was getting cold. The quiet evenings were passing. There was still joy within reach, even on days when I could only hold a little of it.

That was what this book helped me see.

Nora discovers that the lives she imagined would be better have their own sorrow. It made me think of how harshly we sometimes judge our lives. We count the disappointments so carefully, while the love that stayed, the person who checked on us, the meal made for us, the laughter from another room—all become things we barely pause to notice.

Yet in hospital, these were the things I longed to return to.

I remembered something I had read somewhere: “To leave means to live, and to live means to leave.” For me, it began to mean leaving behind some guilt, some expectations, some of the need to keep proving that I could manage everything. Allowing a few things to remain unfinished so I could be present for something precious.

In those difficult days, I felt like a volcano that had finally burst. Years of fear, pain and swallowed tears had surfaced. I thought the lava would consume me. Now, as it settles, I hope something can grow in the soil it leaves behind.

Perhaps a little more tenderness towards myself. A little more gratitude that I can feel, rather than simply express. The courage to enjoy a good moment without worrying about how long it will last.

I am grateful to the Almighty, to the blessings of my elders, to the love of my loved ones, and to the universe for the comfort that held me through those days. This book became part of that comfort. It helped me look again at the life I was trying so hard to return to.

And I want to return to it with more love.

I want to sit with my husband..with my children and listen. Make something with my hands. Read without rushing. Rest without apologising. Let a happy moment be enough for that moment.

If this book leaves us with anything, perhaps it is an invitation to look gently at our own lives before deciding what or where they have fallen short. There may be someone we love within calling distance. Something we enjoy that we have kept postponing. A small happiness waiting for our attention.

We need not wait for a frightening day to discover how precious an ordinary one can be.

My illness remains, and there will be difficult days. But today, there is also a life asking to be lived—and I want to give it more than my endurance.

The Midnight Library left me with a question I am still carrying:

While I am doing everything I can to stay alive, am I allowing myself to live?

For now, my answer is that I want to learn. Slowly, gratefully, in the life that is already mine.

My rating: 5/5

The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop by Takuya Asakura,

Reading The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop by Takuya Asakura, felt like a warm hug. 

The book revolves around a mysterious bookshop that appears only when someone needs it most. Some may call it magical. I don't. I call it hopeful. I have always believed that life has a quiet way of placing the right people, the right books and the right moments before us exactly when our hearts are ready. This book gently reminded me that perhaps miracles arrive disguised as a forgotten bookshop beneath a cherry blossom tree. In fact, it left me believing that miracles happen every day, every moment, everywhere. We only need to keep our minds open and never confine our imagination.

Although every story begins with loss, the book never feels weighed down by grief. Instead, it whispers that grief is not something to conquer but something we slowly learn to carry. Healing isn't about forgetting. It is about making space for love to exist alongside absence.

 The author beautifully reminds us that books are not just stories bound between two covers—they are doors. Doors that quietly open into lives we have never lived, places we have never visited and emotions we never knew we carried within us. 

And those cherry blossoms... I have never stood beneath one, yet I could almost feel the petals drifting around me. That is the beauty of simple writing.  By the end of the book, I realised my love for books, colors in nature, cats and a quiet cup of coffee had grown even deeper. Strange how a story can make you fall in love with things you have never truly experienced.

If your soul is craving gentleness, quiet hope, and a reminder that the universe still has room for mystery, compassion and a little magic, then step into this bookshop.

Perhaps that is why I read. Not to escape life, but to return to it a little softer. 

The Cat Who Taught Zen – James Norbury

This book is a quiet walk through life, where every animal the cat meets is carrying a burden that, in some way, all of us carry too—fear, anger, anxiety, wanting more, or searching for answers. The lessons are gentle, never preachy. They don't tell you what to do; they quietly leave a thought behind and trust you to find your own meaning.

Listening to the audiobook felt like sitting beside someone who wasn't trying to fix my life, only reminding me that perhaps it doesn't need fixing all the time. In a world that constantly tells us to become more, achieve more and rush towards the next milestone, this book whispers, "Just be here."

What stayed with me most wasn't any one lesson. It was the feeling the book created—calm, lightness and space to breathe. It reminded me that peace isn't something waiting at the end of a journey; sometimes it is found in the way we walk.

This is one of those rare audiobooks I don't think I'll listen to just once. If possible, I'd like to return to it every week, letting its gentle wisdom sink in a little deeper each time until it slowly becomes a part of how I see and live life. 

If your heart is tired, if your mind has been noisy, or if, like me, you're learning that "enough" can be a beautiful place to arrive, this little book may be exactly what you need.

My Friends by Fredrik Backman

This wasn't like any book I have read before. In fact, I struggled with it in the beginning. It isn't a book that lets you race from one chapter to the next. It keeps asking you to pause, reflect and simply sit with its characters. Ironically, that was exactly what I found difficult. Lately, my mind has been so occupied with overthinking that I had almost forgotten how to simply sit and imagine.

Somewhere along the journey, without even realizing it, the book changed the way I was reading it. I stopped trying to move ahead quickly. I found myself lingering over conversations, visualising the scenes and letting the characters live in my mind. By the time I turned the final page—page 434—I realised the book had quietly taught me patience. It hadn't just told me a story; it had changed the pace at which I read and imagined. It reminded me of the kind of reader I wished to be and the kind of life I wished to live- a slow one, feeling everything, seeing everything! 

As someone who loves drawing, colouring and creating little pieces of art simply for the joy of it, this story touched a very personal corner of my heart. Somewhere along the way, the painting in the book stopped being fictional. I could see the sea, the colours, the light and the people standing before it. I wasn't merely reading about a painting—I was standing in front of it.

When I finished the book, I did something I rarely do. I searched online to see whether anyone had ever tried to paint that painting or imagine the faces of the characters. It made me smile to discover that I wasn't the only one. Readers across the world had tried to bring that fictional painting to life. That, perhaps, is the greatest compliment a story can receive—that it inspires people to create art of their own.

What stayed with me even more was the book's gentle reflection on death. It made me realise that perhaps we don't truly fear our own death as much as we fear living without the people we love. We fear the empty side of the bed, the silence where laughter once lived, and the memories that arrive without warning. Yet the book also whispers another truth—that love doesn't end with death. It lingers in stories, in places, in shared memories, and sometimes in a painting that keeps people connected long after they are gone. Maybe learning to live with loss isn't about letting go. Maybe it's about carrying love and moving forward. 

I'm grateful to the universe—and especially to my husband—for gently placing this book in my hands.

The Teacher - Freida McFadden

After reading The Housemaids secret,  I picked up The Teacher expecting another fast-paced psychological thriller.. And I didnt get disappointed. 

At times, the book genuinely made me feel dizzy. Not because it was difficult to read, but because every time I began trusting a character or believing I had figured things out, another layer unfolded... the story quietly pulls the ground from beneath your feet.

Just when I thought I had finally figured everything out, another twist came along. And when I was sure there couldn't possibly be any more, there was yet another one. This keeps happening almost till the very last page.

The book reminded me how quickly we look for a hero and a villain in a story. But the truth is often far more complicated. Sometimes we don't know enough to judge, and sometimes what seems obvious is the biggest illusion of all.

If there's one thing I've learnt after reading a few of Freida McFadden's books, it is this: never assume you've solved the mystery until you've turned the last page.

Don't Believe Everything You Think by Joseph Nguyen

Sometimes life is already hard enough. We don't have to make it harder by believing every thought that passes through our mind.

As someone who has always been an overthinker, this book made me realise something I had never really knew about before—there is a difference between thoughts and thinking.

Living with a chronic illness, uncertainty is part of my everyday life. A symptom or a bad day would immediately send my mind into overdrive. Reading this book made me wonder how much of my suffering came from my illness..and how much came from the stories I was creating around it in my mind.

The biggest takeaway for me was that thoughts are inevitable. So are negative thoughts. The problem isn't that they appear. The problem begins when we believe every one of them and keep feeding them with more thinking.

Another thing I loved was how simple the book is. We often assume that if something is simple, it can't be profound. But simple doesn't mean easy. Accepting uncertainty is simple. Letting a thought pass is simple. Our thinking is what makes it difficult.

Will I stop overthinking after reading one book? Of course not. But I know I'll pause more often and ask myself, "Is this really true, or is it just my thinking?"

The Housemaid's Secret by Freida McFadden

A fast-paced psychological thriller where appearances deceive, trust becomes a weapon, and survival depends on seeing people for who they truly are rather than who they pretend to be. It is less about solving a mystery and more about understanding manipulation and the price of misplaced kindness.

My thoughts

What stayed with me wasn't the suspense or the twists—it was how accurately the story captures a truth about people. Those who appear the weakest are not always the victims, and genuine kindness without boundaries can become an invitation for manipulation. Wendy's ability to create instant trust reminded me that shared pain alone is never enough reason to trust someone.

I also liked how Millie's journey wasn't about becoming cruel; it was about becoming wiser. She learns that compassion should never come at the cost of self-protection. The book leaves an important reminder that while kindness is a strength, it must always walk hand in hand with awareness, healthy boundaries, and the courage to recognise deception before it is too late.

Disappointed!

Live While You Are Alive by Shiv Khera turned out to be a slightly difficult read for me—not because the intention is lacking, but because it didn’t quite connect with me the way I had hoped.The idea of living fully and taking charge of life is, of course, important. But somehow, I didn’t find anything that felt new or even something that stayed with me in a comforting way. 

Some books don’t necessarily teach you something new—they simply remind you of things your heart already knows. I missed that feeling here.

The tone, for me, felt a little too direct and push-driven at times—more about “do this, act now” rather than allowing space to slow down, reflect, and just be.

 And maybe that’s where I couldn’t fully connect. I did complete the book, but more out of discipline than involvement. That said, I can see it working for someone who is just starting out with self-help or is looking for something very straightforward and action-oriented. It just didn’t align with where I am right now as a reader. For me, I tend to gravitate towards books that feel like a quiet conversation—ones that hold your hand gently rather than tell you what to do.

So while I finished it, it’s not something I would personally revisit or recommend, especially when there are other books that explore similar thoughts with more warmth and depth.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold- Toshikazu Kawaguchi

Before the Coffee Gets Cold is one of those rare reads that begins as a simple, almost unreal idea of time travel inside a cafe that slowly unfolds into something far more intimate. This is not a story about going back and changing the past. It is about understanding it… and learning to live with it.

Each story is woven with different threads of regret, love, loss, longing. 

Two stories stayed with me long after I finished the book.

The husband and wife—bound by love, yet separated by what remained unsaid. It gently reminds us how often we assume that our feelings are understood, without ever expressing them.

And the sisters—their story carries a deep ache. The kind of love that exists deeply, but is never fully voiced. It makes you pause and reflect on your own relationships—the affection we feel, but hesitate to articulate, as if there will always be time.

The book left me with a simple but lasting thought:

we may not be able to change what has happened, but we can change how we carry it.

For me, it also brought a quiet sense of gratitude. For the people in my life, for the love that exists—imperfect, unspoken at times, but real.

Because in the end, the book doesn’t ask for dramatic change. It simply nudges you to NOT leave things unsaid… while you still can.

Book Review – A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

This is one of those books that doesn’t just stay in your mind… it quietly sits in your heart and warms it.

A Man Called Ove is not loud or dramatic. It’s simple, gentle, and very real. And somewhere along the way, it begins to feel personal.

At first, Ove comes across as a grumpy, rigid man who gets irritated easily, likes things done properly, and prefers his routine over people.

And while reading, I found myself smiling a little… because I could relate more than I expected.

I too like things a certain way. I find comfort in routines. Sudden changes do irritate me at times. Order feels reassuring. And maybe that’s why Ove didn’t feel like a character in a book — he felt familiar.

But slowly, you begin to see beyond that surface.

Ove is not just a difficult man. He is someone who has loved deeply… and lost deeply. And somewhere along the way, that love turned into silence, routine, and a way of just getting through each day.

The story moves between his present and his past, and very gently shows how life, grief, and circumstances shape a person — even to a point where one may feel there is nothing really left to live for.

The book doesn’t talk about grief loudly. It just lets you feel it.

It shows how grief quietly stays — in habits, in memories, in the small things we continue to do for someone who is no longer there.

What stayed with me the most was how people slowly enter Ove’s life, without being invited.

What begins as irritation… slowly becomes connection.

And that felt very close to my own life.

When I look back, many people who became part of my journey came like that — unexpectedly, sometimes even inconveniently. Some stayed, some left… but each one added something, taught something, or held me together in ways I didn’t even realise at that time.

It made me feel that maybe life doesn’t always give us the people we want… it gives us the people we need.

That was my biggest takeaway from the book.

Sometimes life brings people into our lives not because we asked for them, but because we needed them.

A Man Called Ove is a quiet, moving story about love, loss, and the small, unexpected ways life keeps pulling us back… even when we feel we are done.

A simple, beautiful, heartwarming read.

That Night by Nidhi Upadhyay- Book Review

A Book That Stayed With Me – That Night

I just finished That Night by Nidhi Upadhyay* — and it turned out to be one of those books you don’t easily forget.

It hooked me from the start, but the last thirty pages were especially intense. I found myself feeling everything at once — worried about what would happen, angry at some moments, emotional at others — and completely unable to stop reading until I reached the end.

What I liked most about the story is how it slowly reveals itself. Just when you feel you’ve understood what’s going on, the narrative shifts and you realise that things are not as simple as they first seemed. Layer by layer, the truth comes out.

And somewhere in the middle of all this, the book leaves you with a rather unsettling thought — that there is a bit of an animal instinct in all of us. We like to think we are always rational and controlled, but sometimes situations push people to reveal sides of themselves they never imagined.

That is what stayed with me after I finished the book. Not just the story, but the quiet reminder of how complex human nature really is.

A gripping, quick read that keeps you hooked and also leaves you thinking long after the last page is turned.