u/versevirtuoso_

I know When I Am with You by Durjoy Datta gets mixed reviews online, but honestly this book is very close to me for reasons beyond the story itself.

As a book, I actually enjoyed it. It’s not trying to be some deeply philosophical literary masterpiece, and I think that’s why it works. It’s emotional, dramatic, easy to read, and very human. The chemistry between Aishwarya and Dhiren felt messy in a believable way, and I liked that the characters weren’t perfect people trying to say perfect things all the time. Some parts do get a little stretched and filmy, but somehow that’s also part of Durjoy’s writing style that longtime readers already expect. It feels very visual and bingeable, almost like watching a web series in book form.

What stayed with me more though was the timing of this book in my life.

I remember I was going through a really rough patch back then. I was almost broke, had stopped writing for a long time, and was constantly anxious about surviving abroad and what the future would even look like. I remember discussing all this with Durjoy, and he just casually said, “Bhai, you’re gonna make it.”

And then he said he didn’t know what else to gift me other than his book itself.

A few days later, he sent me When I Am with You with a handwritten note inside. And I can’t explain it properly, but that small gesture genuinely calmed me down. It felt like someone believed in me at a time when I had almost stopped believing in myself.

Soon after that, I slowly started resuming work on my pending novels again.

So yeah, whenever people ask me about this book, I don’t rate it based on plot twists or Goodreads stars. For me, it’ll always be attached to a very specific phase of my life and a reminder that sometimes a small act of kindness can pull someone back into their passion again.

What’s yours and why?

Today, I officially SOLD my screenplay🥳 Tbh… I’m still trying to process it.

I still remember finishing this script late at night during my UG days, right before an endsem exam (that too theory of computation wala paper) . While everyone else was revising, I was fixing dialogues and rewriting scenes thinking, “Maybe this story could become something someday.”

And today, it finally did.

A while back, I had already gotten the verbal go ahead from the production team, and the paperwork process had started. But this morning at my hometown, the advance payment cheque finally got delivered home.

My parents thought it was prolly payment for one of the random freelance things I usually work on, so nobody really questioned it.

Then later in the evening, I checked my mail and saw the formal confirmation in bold letters that everything was locked and that the script would soon be developed into a web series project 🤌🤌🤌

I genuinely just stared at the screen for at least 10 seconds and checking the email address if it’s valid one or not.

I immediately called the creative producer, and after talking for a bit, the first thing I asked him was, “Sir can I post this on the subreddit Pata Hai Aaj Kya Hua?”

He laughed and said, “Haha, surely you can… Congratulations young man!”

I have spent an ample amount of time reading posts here silently for motivation, so I wanted to share this for anyone who’s currently in that difficult phase of anything they are building.

Keep writing. Keep Creating. Keep Building.

Write so many bad drafts. Write the scenes that you will end up deleting later on. Rewrite everything if you have to. But don’t stop creating just because progress feels so invisible and uncomfortable at times.

Still feels UNREAL🧿♥️

PS : The image is of first draft

I have always been a huge fan of Shreya Ghoshal, so much that I even made a dedicated playlist for her songs. Whenever I listen to them, I usually end up posting them on my Instagram stories because they match every mood. But today felt a little different. What started as just another story turned into a really special moment for me ❤️

(Pata hai aaj kya hua)

Pata hai aaj kya hua…just small realisation

We laugh, joke around, and act normal so much that people think nothing affects us.

But sometimes we are just mentally exhausted and hiding it behind a smile.

It’s scary how easy it becomes to wear a fake version of ourselves every day until it blurs the line between real and fake.

Not looking for sympathy. Just wanted to put it out there.

Last night I opened The Minds of Billy Milligan thinking I’d read maybe 20 pages before sleeping.

That was at 11 PM.

At 8 in the morning I was still awake, sitting in silence with my Kindle in my hand, genuinely disturbed in a way very few books have managed to do to me.

This wasn’t one of those “just one more chapter” books.

This was the kind of book that slowly crawls into your head and refuses to leave.

I went into it expecting a sensationalized true crime story because social media has honestly turned Dissociative Identity Disorder into some weird aesthetic buzzword over the years. But this book completely shattered that image for me. Daniel Keyes writes Billy Milligan not like a monster, not like a mystery, but like a deeply broken human being whose mind literally split apart trying to survive unbearable trauma.

And that realization hit harder the deeper I got into the book.

The scariest part wasn’t even the crimes.

It was seeing how every personality existed for a reason. Arthur carrying intelligence and control. Ragen carrying rage and protection. David absorbing pain. Adalana being both tragic and unsettling at the same time. It felt less like “multiple personalities” and more like watching different fragments of suffering become human.

There were moments where I genuinely forgot I was reading nonfiction. The pacing feels like a psychological thriller, but then reality hits you again and you remember these were actual psychiatric reports, court cases, interviews, real people, real trauma.

And somehow that makes it infinitely more horrifying.

What stayed with me the most is how conflicted this book makes you feel. One chapter you feel fear. Then sympathy. Then anger. Then confusion. Then suddenly you’re grieving for the child Billy once was before everything inside him fractured beyond repair.

Honestly, I finished the last page and just stared at my ceiling for like twenty minutes.

No dramatic ending or clear answers.

Just this heavy feeling that the human mind is capable of breaking itself into pieces if reality becomes too painful to survive whole.

I was supposed to get 8 hours of sleep last night.

Instead I accidentally spent 9 straight hours questioning what actually makes a person… a person.

Last night I opened The Minds of Billy Milligan thinking I’d read maybe 20 pages before sleeping.

That was at 11 PM.

At 8 in the morning I was still awake, sitting in silence with my Kindle in my hand, genuinely disturbed in a way very few books have managed to do to me.

This wasn’t one of those “just one more chapter” books.

This was the kind of book that slowly crawls into your head and refuses to leave.

I went into it expecting a sensationalized true crime story because social media has honestly turned Dissociative Identity Disorder into some weird aesthetic buzzword over the years. But this book completely shattered that image for me. Daniel Keyes writes Billy Milligan not like a monster, not like a mystery, but like a deeply broken human being whose mind literally split apart trying to survive unbearable trauma.

And that realization hit harder the deeper I got into the book.

The scariest part wasn’t even the crimes.

It was seeing how every personality existed for a reason. Arthur carrying intelligence and control. Ragen carrying rage and protection. David absorbing pain. Adalana being both tragic and unsettling at the same time. It felt less like “multiple personalities” and more like watching different fragments of suffering become human.

There were moments where I genuinely forgot I was reading nonfiction. The pacing feels like a psychological thriller, but then reality hits you again and you remember these were actual psychiatric reports, court cases, interviews, real people, real trauma.

And somehow that makes it infinitely more horrifying.

What stayed with me the most is how conflicted this book makes you feel. One chapter you feel fear. Then sympathy. Then anger. Then confusion. Then suddenly you’re grieving for the child Billy once was before everything inside him fractured beyond repair.

Honestly, I finished the last page and just stared at my ceiling for like twenty minutes.

No dramatic ending or clear answers.

Just this heavy feeling that the human mind is capable of breaking itself into pieces if reality becomes too painful to survive whole.

I was supposed to get 8 hours of sleep last night.

Instead I accidentally spent 9 straight hours questioning what actually makes a person… a person.

I was recommended The Vegetarian by Han Kang by a friend right after I finished Butter by Asako Yuzuki, and I went in expecting something with a similar vibe. You know, food as a lens into people’s lives, maybe something a bit dark but still grounded. This is not that. It starts off simple enough, a woman decides to stop eating meat after a dream, and everyone around her reacts like she has done something completely outrageous. At first I thought it would stay in that space, but it slowly turns into something way more intense and honestly kind of disturbing.

What really got to me is how you never actually hear directly from Yeong-hye (protagonist) herself. The story is told through the people around her, and the more you read, the more frustrating that becomes in a way that feels very deliberate. Everyone is trying to explain her, control her, or make sense of her, but no one really listens. It made me feel like I was always just slightly outside of what was happening, which somehow made it hit harder. The writing is very clean and quiet, but the imagery sticks with you. There are moments that feel invasive and uncomfortable, and I kept thinking about certain scenes long after I put the book down.

By the end, I just sat there for a bit like… what did I just read. It is one of those books where I am not sure I “enjoyed” it, but I cannot stop thinking about it. It feels more like an experience than a story. I get why people are split on it, because it is not satisfying in a traditional way and it does not really explain itself. But if you are into books that are a little strange, a little symbolic, and leave you feeling unsettled in a quiet way, this one definitely delivers.

Just do not go in expecting another Butter. This goes somewhere much darker.

I was recommended The Vegetarian by Han Kang by a friend right after I finished Butter by Asako Yuzuki, and I went in expecting something with a similar vibe. You know, food as a lens into people’s lives, maybe something a bit dark but still grounded. This is not that. It starts off simple enough, a woman decides to stop eating meat after a dream, and everyone around her reacts like she has done something completely outrageous. At first I thought it would stay in that space, but it slowly turns into something way more intense and honestly kind of disturbing.

What really got to me is how you never actually hear directly from Yeong-hye (protagonist) herself. The story is told through the people around her, and the more you read, the more frustrating that becomes in a way that feels very deliberate. Everyone is trying to explain her, control her, or make sense of her, but no one really listens. It made me feel like I was always just slightly outside of what was happening, which somehow made it hit harder. The writing is very clean and quiet, but the imagery sticks with you. There are moments that feel invasive and uncomfortable, and I kept thinking about certain scenes long after I put the book down.

By the end, I just sat there for a bit like… what did I just read. It is one of those books where I am not sure I “enjoyed” it, but I cannot stop thinking about it. It feels more like an experience than a story. I get why people are split on it, because it is not satisfying in a traditional way and it does not really explain itself. But if you are into books that are a little strange, a little symbolic, and leave you feeling unsettled in a quiet way, this one definitely delivers.

Just do not go in expecting another Butter. This goes somewhere much darker.