‘The Rainbow Runners’: An affecting novel about insurgencies in Assam despite some occasional bumps

“We have that at home,” I tell my sister, pointing at the copy of The Rainbow Runners in her hands. “Don’t buy it again. Just read mine!”

“But I want my own,” she replies, furrowing her eyebrows in irritation. “It sounds intriguing.”

Somehow, all our visits to the bookstore end the same way. I throw a fit because her entire basket is already on my shelves. It’s a waste of money. I try knowing that it won’t work, I follow up by drawing attention to the ever-growing mountain of books in our reading room. She doesn’t listen and returns home with a bunch of books that my mother recognises from the room. My sister’s hoarding betrays my mother’s confidence in us, and then I become a casualty: she doesn’t let me buy any paperbacks. I cannot let her get away with it this time. At any cost. I don my armour (I keep my shopping basket down), I strap on my sword (I swipe my hair away from my face and cross my arms haughtily), and I put on my war paint (If worst comes to worst, I will call my mother).

“How about this?” she asks with a playful smirk and twinkling eyes. “You tell me what the...

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