Nearly one in every twelve humans is a young Indian for whom meaningful education is of critical importance. A good education will not only help our youth get jobs and build fulfilling careers, it will also lead to the widening of our collective imagination and the shaping of the way we think; for all these reasons it ought to be an important concern of our time. Unfortunately, this is not the case. There is a lack of infrastructure, adequate funding and genuine autonomy within educational institutions, departments within those institutions, and individuals who teach in those departments. And this is not all. There is also the question of the nature of knowledge that is relevant to our rapidly modernizing country that needs to be dealt with. If knowledge is the core of education and if education lays the very foundation of a nation, the author argues that it is of critical importance that the plight of educational institutions and the need to generate knowledge appropriate to India are addressed without any delay. Original and profound, this book offers a clear picture of the mistakes that have been committed in the past, confronts the present decline of knowledge and education in the country and offers a vision for the future.

Human civilization has lasted for approximately fifty centuries despite being continually under threat because of its inclination towards fear and violence. Today, however, ‘the future of civilization seems bleak’, as Romila Thapar writes in her foreword. Why is this so? Is it because our present time is barbaric? Is the twenty-first century another Dark Age? In this new book, eminent philosopher Ramin Jahanbegloo talks about this new crisis in civilization that has given rise to fundamentalist movements and authoritarian leaders like Donald Trump. He shows us that civilization is all about the relationship of human beings to one another. When that relationship breaks down and we begin to distrust each other, when we are no longer inclusive or accepting of our differences, then society, which today is more plural than it has been at any time in its history, begins to decivilize and break down. Using the insights of Hegel, Kant, Arendt, Rousseau, Ricoeur and many other great philosophers, the author concludes that it is time to go back to the values and beliefs of Mahatma Gandhi and Rabindranath Tagore, two of the greatest humanists the world has ever seen, if we are to reverse the rot that has set in.The Decline of Civilization shows that a healthy civilization is one that is a ‘shared human horizon’ of empathy that avoids moral anarchy and relativism while acknowledging the plurality of modes of being human. It is a concept and a reality worth fighting for.

The Indian subcontinent has been a land of immigrants for thousands of years: waves of migration from Persia, Central Asia, Mongolia, the Middle East and Greece have helped create India’s exceptionally diverse cultural mix. In the centuries before the British Raj, when the Mughals were the preeminent power in the subcontinent, a wide array of migrants known as ‘firangis’ made India their home. In this book, Jonathan Gil Harris, a twenty-first-century firangi, tells their stories. These gripping accounts are of healers, soldiers, artists, ascetics, thieves, pirates and courtesans who were not powerful or privileged. Often they were escaping poverty or religious persecution; many were brought here as slaves; others simply followed their spirit of adventure. Some of these migrants were absorbed into the military. Others fell in with religious communities—the Catholics of Rachol, the underground Jews of Goa, the fakirs of Ajmer, the Sufis of Delhi. Healers from Portugal and Italy adapted their medical practice in accordance with local traditions. Gifted artisans from Europe joined Akbar’s and Jahangir’s royal ateliers, and helped create enduring works of art. And though almost invisible within the archival record, some migrant women such as the Armenian Bibi Juliana and the Portuguese Juliana Dias da Costa found a home in royal Mughal harems. Jonathan Gil Harris uses his own experience of becoming Indian through the process of acclimatizing to the country’s culture, customs, weather, food, clothes and customs to bring the stories of these shadowy figures to vivid life.

Gopalkrishna Gandhi has been an administrator, diplomat, author, and public intellectual of distinction for over four decades. His writings have spanned diverse genres, showcasing both his deep scholarship as well as a profound engagement with issues of politics, history, literature, and culture. He is respected not only for his statesmanship, but also admired as an exemplar of a fading ideal of our republic, one that placed ethics and the pursuit of the common good at the core of our public life. The Fourth Lion, a festschrift in honour of Gopalkrishna Gandhi, consists of twenty-six essays contributed by individuals drawn from various walks of life and from across the globe. Organized into thematic sections—Literature and Culture, History, Environment, Politics and Public Affairs, and Memoirs—the essays speak to concerns, interests and sensibilities that animate our lives.

At first glance, leopards are not as fearsome as tigers. They do not possess the same brutal strength and size as tigers, but that is no reason to underestimate their ferocity and success as predators. And, when they take to man-eating, as Jim Corbett points out, they are often as deadly as tigers. In his best-selling book, The Man-eating Leopard of Rudraprayag, he wrote about a leopard which killed one hundred and twenty-five people in what is now Uttarakhand state. Remarkably, the Rudraprayag leopard wasn’t the deadliest leopard that Corbett hunted. That killer was the Panar man-eater which killed four hundred people in Almora district in Uttarakhand before it was finally dispatched. The Hour of the Leopard brings together, for the first time, all the stories Corbett wrote about hunting leopards, including an account of the first leopard he ever shot as well as his stories about dispatching the man-eaters of Panar and Rudraprayag. The collection is introduced by a piece in which the author spells out the differences between man-eating leopards and tigers.

Bhagat Ram Talwar, a Hindu Pathan from the Northwest Frontier Province of British India, was the only quintuple spy of World War II, spying for Britain, Italy, Germany, Japan and the USSR. His exploits and the people he worked with were truly remarkable. His spying missions saw him walk back and forth 24 times from Peshawar to Kabul eluding capture and certain death. He fooled the Germans so successfully that they gave him £ 2.5 million, in today’s money, and awarded him the Iron Cross. His British spymaster was Peter Fleming, the brother of Ian Fleming, creator of James Bond. Fleming, operating from the gardens of the Viceroy’s House in wartime Delhi, gave him the code name Silver. Talwar became a spy after he helped Subhas Chandra Bose escape India via Kabul. Bose was seeking help from Germany and Japan to free India and never discovered that Talwar was betraying him to the British. Talwar settled in UP after India won independence; he died of natural causes in 1983. Based on research in previously classified files of the Indian, British, Russian and other governments, The Indian Spy tells for the first time the full story of the most extraordinary agent of World War II.

One of India’s greatest epics, The Kathasaritsagara is thought to have been compiled around 1070 CE by Somadeva Bhatt, during the reign of Raja Ananta of the Lohara dynasty of Kashmir. Even though this extraordinary work is one of the longest creations in Indian and world literature, it is considered to be only a small part of an even longer work called Brihatkatha, composed by Gunadhya in a lost language known as Paisachi. Somadeva collected and retold the stories of The Kathasaritsagara in Sanskrit to entertain Raja Ananta’s wife, Suryavati. This masterpiece is foundational for many of India’s best-loved folk tale traditions, such as Vetala Pachisi and Panchatantra, and it has influenced many of the world’s best-known classics, including One Thousand and One Nights, The Decameron, and The Canterbury Tales. In addition, contemporary writers like Salman Rushdie have drawn from the work in books like Haroun and the Sea of Stories. Within its vast frame, The Kathasaritsagara has several hundred stories that owe their origin to India’s limitless storehouse of myth, scripture, and folklore. Snake gods rub shoulders with enchanted princesses, and heroic warrior-kings battle rakshasas tall as the sky and wide as the ocean. Celestial apsaras seduce handsome princes, wise prostitutes counsel errant husbands, fools parley with ghouls, and riddlers and talking monkeys pace through the tales. Here you will find talking birds and swindlers, beggars and conjurers, sages and polymaths, divine beings and semi-divine vidyadharas, yakshas and yoginis, walking corpses and sleeping giants, and a host of other remarkable creatures mingling with ordinary men and women in a multitude of magical kingdoms, enchanted islands, and forbidding forests in the three worlds—heaven, earth, and the netherworld. And through this skein of stories contained in eighteen books, Somadeva spins tales of love, infidelity, death, rebirth, sacrifice, fulfilment, courage, cowardliness, honesty, untruth, separation, togetherness, joy, sadness, and much, much more. The central story of this epic revolves around the son of the famed Raja Udayana, Naravahanadatta, and his marital quests, in the course of which he acquires numerous wives, encounters a host of memorable characters, and wins supremacy over the mystical vidyadharas. Meena Arora Nayak’s brilliant new retelling of The Kathasaritsagara, the first major rendition of the epic in a quarter century, closely follows the adventures of Naravahanadatta and brings these ancient tales to new and enthralling life.

A small, sparsely populated kingdom at the eastern end of the Himalayas, Bhutan is often described as one of the most isolated countries on earth. In this unprecedented portrait—an informed and insightful mix of political history and travel writing—Omair Ahmad shows that the opposite, in fact, is true. Located at the intersection of several political, cultural and religious currents, Bhutan has been a part of, and been shaped by, some of the most transformative events in Asian and world history. Beginning with Padmasambhava’s epic work to establish Buddhism in the Himalayas, The Kingdom at the Centre of the World tells the story of Bhutan’s emergence as an independent Buddhist nation in the seventeenth century under the Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, who turned his back on Tibet; the exploits of Jigme Namgyal—the Black Regent—who united Bhutan and fought the armies of British India to a standstill; and the remarkable Wangchuk monarchs, who have ruled Bhutan since the beginning of the twentieth century. Alongside, the book also examines events around Bhutan that have affected it profoundly: the rise and fall of Tibet and the Mongol and British empires; the spread of Nepali-origin people across South Asia; Sikkim’s dramatic loss of sovereignty; and the conflicting territorial ambitions of India and China. Most fascinating of all, the book argues that it is in Bhutan—more, perhaps, than in any other nation—that alternative modes of governance and progress are being tested in an increasingly homogenized world. As it chooses Gross National Happiness (GNH) over Gross National Product (GNP), grapples with a complicated refugee crisis, experiments with a guided democracy and tries to retain its cultural heritage while it opens up to the world, Bhutan could have important lessons for us all.

The Covid-19 pandemic has been the worst health calamity in India for at least a century. But beyond the direct impact of the virus on the health of tens of millions of Indians, the economic devastation experienced by the country due to policy responses to the disease has been unprecedented. This shock to the economy is so severe as to merit the description ‘catastrophe’ and is unlikely to be simply wished away once the pandemic recedes. In The Making of a Catastrophe, Jayati Ghosh analyses the disastrous economic effects of the pandemic, and the lockdowns and other policies that followed in its wake. This book covers many areas of the economy that were affected such as investment, consumption, savings, finance, and employment, and goes deep into the specific consequences of government actions on agriculture, manufacturing, construction as well as old and ‘new’ services. Cogently argued by one of India’s best-known economists, The Making of a Catastrophe takes a close look at the inadequate and often confounding manner in which the government and its agencies handled the ravaging of the economy by the pandemic.

The public intellectual in India is an endangered species. Should we care? In this well-argued book, Romila Thapar and others tell us why we should. Thapar begins by defining the critical role that such individuals play in our societies today. Collectively, they are the objective, fearless, constructive voice that asks the awkward questions when government, industry, religious leaders and other bulwarks of society stray from their roles of ensuring the proper functioning of a country whose hallmarks are (or should be) social and economic equality, justice for all, and the liberty to say, think and profess the fundamental requirements of good citizenship. Through the lens of history, philosophy, science, and politics, she shows us the key role enlightened thinkers and activists have played in India, Europe and elsewhere. Today, as the liberal space in India is threatened by religious fundamentalism, big business, and, worryingly, a government that appears to be tacitly (and sometimes overtly) encouraging the attack on freedom of expression, secular values and rational readings of history, there could be no book as timely as this one. With contributions from writers and scholars in the fields of philosophy, science, history, journalism and social activism, The Public Intellectual in India shows us why it is important to have independent voices to protect the underprivileged, ensure human rights and social justice, and watch over the smooth functioning of our liberal, secular democracy.