‘Sunrise on the Reaping’ book review: The perfect cure for boredom
I have to confess that I wasn’t a fan of ‘The Hunger Games’ series by Suzzane Collins when it first came out in 2008. I read it because everyone was reading and talking about it. But since I wasn’t interested in dystopian settings, I didn’t get as hooked as perhaps the rest of the world.
I read the second part ‘Catching Fire’ as I wanted to know what would happen to Katniss Everdeen, the protagonist, after she won the games but by the third book ‘Mockingjay’, I had lost all interest.
To be honest, I didn’t read ‘The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes’ that came out in 2020 so even I was surprised when I picked up ‘Sunrise on the Reaping’ that came out early this year. It was part the hype surrounding the book and part this acceptance of dystopian novels post Covid-19 which had made the impossible seem possible.
For those of you who don’t know what the Hunger Games is about (and I’m pretty sure there aren’t very many), it’s a dystopian novel about this place where the Capitol controls all the other districts in the area. Many years ago, frustrated with the Capitol’s oppressive regime, the 12 districts rose against it. There was a civil war in which the districts lost. Since then, as a form of punishment, the Capitol takes two ‘tributes’, a boy and a girl, from each district to participate in what they call the hunger games. Out of 24 participants, only one remains in the end. The blood bath that ensues in the artificially constructed arena where everything is under the control of the game makers is shown on TV.
Sunrise on the Reaping follows Haymitch Abernathy, who features heavily in the original Hunger Games trilogy as Katniss and Peeta’s mentor. As the only surviving victor from District 12, he is tasked with mentoring the tributes from his district but he is perpetually drunk and lost in his own world. However, his sharp mind and cunning skills prove to be crucial in ensuring the tribute’s survival in the arena. Though you will initially dislike him in the Hunger Games, he is a character who will slowly grow on you. Sunrise on the Reaping gives his backstory and you get to find out why Haymitch is the way he is. You will come to empathize with him.
But you can read the book as a standalone book or even if you have forgotten much of what happens in the Hunger Games trilogy. In district 12, on the day of the 50th annual Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy tries not to think too hard about his chances as that year twice as many tributes are being taken. He just wants to make it through the day and be with Lenore Dove, the girl he loves and wants to spend the rest of his life with. He truly believes he will beat the odds. But Haymitch’s name gets called in the reaping and he finds himself torn apart from his family—his mother and younger brother, and his love. He is transported to the Capitol with three other district 12 tributes—a young girl he considers his sister, an oddsmaker, and the girl Lenore dislikes the most.
Even before the games begin, the people at the Capital and especially President Snow take an instant dislike to him. Haymitch soon realizes that he has been set up to fail from the start and that they are going to do everything to take him out as early and as brutally as possible once he enters the arena. But something in him wants to fight, and to show the Capitol people that the tributes aren’t just mere pawns.
I breezed through the book as I simply couldn’t put it down. It’s fast paced and the characters are beautifully developed. You even come to care about a character that appears for a really short time and has perhaps been implanted by the Capitol to spy on Haymitch. We learn a lot about Haymitch in the third part of the series ‘Mockingjay’ and those who haven’t read Sunrise on the Reaping might wonder what new this book has to offer. But there are so many layers to his story and how he won the games that you will be missing out if you don’t read this gem of a novel that keeps you on the edge of your seat all throughout.
If you haven’t read the series then this book could actually even be a great introduction to it. I’m tempted to read the Hunger Games again after having read Sunrise on the Reaping because I’ve forgotten much of what’s in it and also because I feel I’ll look at the characters and the story from a fresh perspective. I hadn’t enjoyed them very much when I first read it but now I’ve a feeling that I will as I’m quite invested in the plot and care deeply about the district tributes whoever they might be. President Snow might just be my most hated person at the moment. What I mean by that is, in my head, I seem to be largely living in the world the author has built.
The book also deals with themes like political propaganda and the gap between the haves and the have-nots, making it a thought-provoking read as well. I’ve given it a five out of five stars and can’t stop thinking about it. It’s every bit as wonderful as the internet (especially all the BookTubers) is making it out to be.
Dystopia
Sunrise on the Reaping
Suzanne Collins
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Published: 2025
Pages: 382, Hardcover
Price: Rs 1918
Into the Fire: A memoir of courage and compassion
As per the vision of King Prithivi Narayan Shah, Kshetriyas are born warriors, who are innately brave and decisive. While reading Into The Fire by Capt. Rameshwar Thapa, one senses that same warrior spirit. During the peak of Nepal’s Maoist insurgency, Thapa conducted numerous helicopter rescue missions in the name of humanity. These were not official duties, but acts he undertook as a responsible citizen. He rescues even Maoist combatants, showing that compassion can transcend political divides.
The book invites readers to ponder whether his flying was simply a job, or a deeper calling. His symbolic trials, like leaving Nepal to study in Russia, resemble the path of a hermit in search of knowledge and purpose.
The title, Into the Fire, itself is self-explanatory. It captures the experience of flying over warzones, amidst explosions and bombardments. The task was daring and dangerous. Thapa traversed Nepal from east to west, offering ‘Malham’ (relief and healing) to the wounded. Some of his missions seem unbelievable. For instance, landing in Sandhikharka (Arghakhanchi) under live fire—despite two helicopters being shot—shows the extreme risks he and his team took, continuing their mission even after being hit.
Plot and structure
The book is structured in three main parts, narrating real-time events tied to Nepal’s middle class. For engaged readers, the story is both exciting and thought-provoking. Thapa draws attention in an almost Panglossian tone—an optimist through hardship.
Early life and solo dream: The story begins with a child’s journey to manhood, shaped by dreams and struggle. Thapa’s first earning, Rs. 3.5, was used to buy a pen, a symbolic gesture of his quest for education. This parallels with Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, India’s former President, who used his first income to buy a pen to support his learning. It reflects how small acts can carry deeper meanings.
Enthusiastic U-turn: Thapa’s determination led him to take bold decisions. Dissatisfied with his clerical job in court, he reconsidered his path after a conversation with Sheshraj Parajuli and a transfer letter to Rasuwa district. When he appealed to Chief Justice Keshav Prasad Upadhyaya to halt the transfer, he received a counter-advice: “Why stick to a white-collar job when you have so much potential?” That moment reignited his childhood dream to become a rotary-wing pilot.
Insurgency and personal risk: Separated from his family, Thapa lived by the slogan of “do or die.” Maoist attacks in Rolpa, Rukum, Sindhuli, and Gorkha signaled an internal war. Though he could have refused to fly, Thapa’s inner voice urged him to serve a nation in turmoil. He was ready to fly into danger.
From captain to entrepreneur: The Bhagavad Gita’s principle of “perform without expectation” seems to guide Thapa’s transition into entrepreneurship. After years of risk-filled service, he expanded into media, real estate, hydropower, and tourism. His entrepreneurial journey shows he is a visionary, someone looking far beyond boundaries.
Strengths of the Book
Personal ideals: The book offers an intimate account of Nepal’s middle-class life, marked by poverty and resilience. It reflects conditions still prevalent in many least developed countries. Thapa emerges as a man of strong personal ideals and conviction.
Contribution during insurgency: Nepal was ill-prepared for warfare, and pessimism spread quickly. Maoist guerrillas executed people without hesitation. While travel on rugged terrain was difficult, air travel was the only viable option. Despite the risks, Thapa stepped in, driven more by idealism than duty. His actions embody a sense of purpose beyond survival.
Inspiration: The transition from childhood to adulthood in the book is rich with insight, courage, and hope. The story is motivational, especially for young readers. Thapa’s humility in learning, combined with his deep sense of responsibility, stands out.
Limitations
Hero-centric narrative: Some readers may find the book overly centered on the author’s heroism. Flying into combat zones and rescuing the wounded is indeed courageous, but the tone occasionally leans toward glorification. While many autobiographies carry personal bias, this one does little to address or balance those tendencies.
Selective memory: The book focuses heavily on challenges and heroic moments, leaving out the routine or less dramatic aspects. Readers may seek a fuller psychological portrait, but instead get a highly curated narrative. Still, this selective remembrance satisfies many readers’ thirst for dramatic stories.
Matters of privacy: When covering his entrepreneurial ventures, the author avoids discussing matters like employment generation or contribution to the national economy. While it’s understandable for a memoir to stay task-focused, more detail would have enriched the narrative.
More a war diary than a memoir: Some may view Into The Fire as a war diary rather than a complete autobiography. Though it contains emotional and soft elements, the narrative remains largely event-driven and action-focused.
Conclusion
Into The Fire explores realities that go far beyond the imagination of most people. The risks, bravery, and moral clarity depicted are truly extraordinary. To enhance its credibility, future editions might include footnotes or endnotes for context. Still, the core themes of hope, justice, and patience resonate powerfully.
The bilingual format bridges local and international audiences. Technical and non-technical errors, whether in translation or print, are minimal and easily rectifiable.
This book can serve as a beacon of hope for students, educators, public servants, freelancers, researchers, aviators, and anyone who aspires to rise above limitations and serve with courage.
‘The Poetry Pharmacy’ review: A perfect book of poems
Poetry can feel a little intimidating but there are some hacks if you want to get into it: Read poems out loud. Read them repeatedly. Let the words take space in your head. Over time, you will definitely come to enjoy reading poems and will find that they make sense as well, sometimes even resonating more than well-written prose by your favorite author.
I was petrified of poems and was relieved that I wouldn’t have to read them once they weren’t prescribed syllabus. But once I was out of college, I started picking up random poetry books of my own volition. One of the earliest works I read were some Nepali poems and those by Maya Angelou. I have to admit that not everything made sense but I enjoyed how I felt reading the words till they eventually fell into place. Slowly, I started picking up more poetry books as I could quickly read one or two even during busy days. I would carry a book of poetry in my bag and dip into it whenever I had some time.
Over the years, I have amassed quite a few volumes of poetry. Gulzar, Rumi, Keats—I have tried to read widely and find what suits my taste. Not everything makes sense immediately but I’m not as intimidated by poems as I once was. I recently picked up ‘The Poetry Pharmacy’ by Willian Sieghart and the book goes everywhere with me. It’s on my bedside table at night. I carry it in my bag. I read a random page whenever I can and somehow whatever I read resonates deeply.The Poetry Pharmacy proclaims to be tried-and-true prescriptions for the heart, mind, and soul. And it indeed is. From mental and emotional wellbeing to love and loss, there are poems in this slim volume for all kinds of ailments.
The idea of the poetry pharmacy came into being many years ago when Sieghart was asked to prescribe poems from one of his books to the audience during a literary festival in England. What was supposed to be an hour long affair turned into a several hours long event. People queued up to be prescribed a poem that would fix whatever was weighing down their hearts. Sieghart realized that “suffering is the access point to poetry for a lot of people: that’s when they open their ears, hearts, and minds.”
In the introduction to the book, he says sometimes the right words when people are in need can bring great comfort and that creates a love for poetry that can last a lifetime. He urges readers not to worry about their ability to read a poem and to try and read the same poem every night for five nights in a row when it doesn’t make sense. “Keep it by your bed and read it before you switch out the lights,” he says. That’s what I have been doing with The Poetry Pharmacy and the poems in the book have, in many ways, been a soothing balm just when I have needed it.
Poems like ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling and ‘Still I Rise’ by Maya Angelou are two of my favorites that fill me with hope. There are many other poems ‘New Every Morning’ by Susan Coolige that has been prescribed for compulsive behavior, ‘The Mistake’ by James Fenton prescribed to get over regret and self-loathing, and ‘Come to the Edge’ by Christopher Logue that can fix lack of courage that feel like big, enveloping hugs that you didn’t know you needed. There’s a poem titled ‘Chemotherapy’ by Julia Darling that I must urge everyone to read. Cancer is unfortunately becoming something we are all dealing with on a personal level: perhaps we have gone through it ourselves or seen a loved one suffer. This poem reminds us that life can’t be made inconsequential by illness and that small pleasures can bring a lot of comfort in the darkest of times.
The Poetry Pharmacy brings together some of the best poems by poets who understand the human conditions all too well. The book’s layout is such that it has Sieghart’s ‘prescriptions’ on one side and the poem on the other page. His explanations or ‘editorials’ are every bit as uplifting as the poems he prescribes. The book is a complication of 56 universal problems. Read it cover to cover or dip in and out whenever you want to, this brilliant book of poems is guaranteed to be a lifesaver.
The Poetry Pharmacy
William Sieghart
Published: 2017
Publisher: Particular Books, Penguin Random House UK
Pages: 151, Hardcover
Heart Lamp: Celebration of femininity, critique of patriarchy
Heart Lamp, a collection of short stories by Banu Mushtaq, caught my attention after winning the International Booker Prize in 2025. I acquired a copy—the English translation by Deepa Bhasti—soon after its release in Kathmandu.
As I delved into Mushtaq’s fictional world, I noticed that all the stories feature female protagonists. Though these women are often portrayed as helpless, submissive, and vulnerable, the author skillfully critiques patriarchy, leaving readers to question whether men truly embody only freedom, assertiveness, and power. The stories also serve as a representation of Southern Indian society at the time, exposing its structures, the struggles of Muslim women, and the hollowness of male pride. For instance, in ‘Stone Slabs for Shaista Mahal’, the husband’s performative love—comparing himself to Shah Jahan—is starkly contrasted by his swift remarriage after his wife’s death rituals conclude.
The narratives mock male chauvinism while celebrating feminine resilience. In one story, a mutawalli (custodian) obsesses over a community member’s burial rites and religious formalities, yet remains indifferent to his own son, who lies critically ill in the hospital. This effectively highlights how men often prioritize superficial duties over genuine responsibilities.
The collection also offers insights into Muslim customs, such as khatna (male circumcision), depicted as both a celebrated ritual and, disturbingly, a means for the poor to earn meager rewards through repeated procedures. Similarly, the titular story, ‘Heart Lamp’, portrays a mother’s quiet strength as she resists self-immolation for her children’s sake. Through these intimate family sagas, Mushtaq lays bare the cruelties of patriarchy—its injustices, traumas, and the suffocating burdens of shame and oppression forced upon women.
Heart Lamp immerses readers in the social dynamics of South Indian Muslim communities, revealing how gender roles shape lives both inside and outside the home. The book also holds academic value, offering rich material for sociological and anthropological studies of the region’s cultural practices.