Daring and surprising, the must-read of our times.
— Rigoberto González, author of To the Boy Who Was NightQuote Source
A book of ferocious inquiry and vast heart, delightful formal play and intellectual agility, The Way You Want to Be Loved asks how we can bear to live with the distances that make and unmake us
— Megha Majumdar, NYT bestselling author of A Burning
This masterful collection mixes Chekovian realism with Borgesian magic to create a new and vital literary voice for our times.
— Nathan Oates, author of A Flaw in the Design
A new voice in the burgeoning oeuvre of anglophone fiction from northeast India.
— World Literature Today
a collection of immersive short stories, which address themes including repression, fundamentalism and the violation of human rights. The book also asks important questions about environment and territorial sovereignty, along with giving urgent insights into an often silenced and marginalised culture.
— Eastern Eye (UK)
...one of India’s rising literary voices.
— The Florida Review
A collection of poignant, finely crafted stories set against the backdrop of violence that has long racked north-eastern India.
— Amitav Ghosh, via Twitter

At a New Delhi conference, an Assamese writer is interrogated on why he writes about magical folktales instead of the insurgencies. A mother splashes around in the village lake to mask the lovemaking sounds of her son with another man. A newly-arrived graduate student in Minnesota navigates living arrangements with his white roommate, Mike, and Mike’s Indian girlfriend.

In agile and frank prose, The Way You Want to Be Loved tells the stories of queer, displaced lives from India’s Northeast, an underrepresented region in English fiction. A hybrid cast of characters represents the common people in these thirteen stories, whether western-trained academic or village sorcerer, army soldier or local politician, homeward-bound son or dutiful daughter-in-law. They wrestle with diasporic melancholia, the social pressures of familial duty, and the search for their own personhood, even as they live in a world where personhood is continually compromised and reshaped under oppressive forces larger than themselves. Aruni Kashyap offers up a powerful critique of the malfunctioning democracies of India and the US, deftly balancing devastation and tragedy with a darkly humorous tone that has readers questioning their laughter.

At its core, The Way You Want to Be Loved explores what it means to love, desire, and long for life under the duress of everyday and state-sanctioned violence and discrimination.

Published by :
INDIA & South Asia: Context / Westland Books
UK: Flipped Eye Books
USA, Singapore & Malaysia: Gaudy Boy

Tales of insurgency and violence, of myth and history, of sexuality and demography, of diasporic and local frontiers make his [Kashyap’s] new collection of ten short stories simply an enthralling experience.
— Split Lip Magazine
An intense page-turner.
— MensXP
One marvels at Kashyap’s technical prowess, the deft chess moves on the storyboard—the flow of the story intact at all times...His Father’s Disease is an acerbic, unusual, transgressive and frequently funny collection that I’m sure will be talked about for years to come. It’s also dark as f*** so carry a flashlight.
— Open Magazine
An impassioned reflection on displacement, dispersal, and life in the diaspora.
— Wasafiri Magazine

Skylark Girl: Myth and Orality in Narratives from Northeast

JLF London 2020 | The Colour of Words: Abir Mukherjee, Guy Gunaratne, Aruni Kashyap, Nikesh Shukla

Aruni Kashyap in Conversation with Ankan Dhar | International Writers Festival 2021 JDMC

In a cool, dispassionate tone that mines intimate, sometimes incidental situations, Kashyap’s stories are quietly affecting, often sparkling with valuable insight...Kashyap explores love and sex, desire and myth, violence and conflict, at an easy, page-turning pace. It reminded me very much of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s unforgettable collection of stories, The Thing Around Your Neck, which drew out quietly devastating moments in the lives of Nigerian men and women, many of them living away from their homeland in America, caught in an unending abyss between two disparate worlds.
— The Asian Age 
Kashyap precisely embarks on a journey to undo the single-story surrounding his homeland. He makes no effort to play safe by catering to the mainland’s expectations from a writer coming from India’s Northeast. With the first story itself Kashyap plunges headlong into murky waters without losing sight of his goal – to narrate the tales of displaced individuals desperately negotiating home.
— Huffington Post 
In their very existence, Kashyap’s stories are defiant, challenging the mainstream intelligentsia’s authority: Why must the voice of the subaltern fit the narratives constructed by those that are not? His Father’s Disease is a book we did not know we needed, and for precisely that reason, a book that must be read.
— The Hindu Business Line 
The ten stories that make up Aruni Kashyap’s unflinching new collection roam between the turbulent villages of Assam and the frigid placidity of the American Midwest, and explore the complexities of identity and isolation, violence and resilience amidst diverse backdrops. In these wide-ranging stories, folklore and sorcery are interlaced with spikey meditations on race and belonging. The connective tissue is found in the centering of characters who intentionally and unintentionally don’t fit the norm, who push against the urge to generalise—and the urge to dismiss.
— Helter Skelter Magazine
Through the short stories in His Father’s Disease, Kashyap points to a binding element in the midst of our differing perceptions of home. It is, as he seems to say, the necessity to be more tolerant and accepting, to lend an ear, to be kind, and to empathise, whether with yourself, your family, friends or even a stranger. He points to how our different perceptions of home need not threaten our identity – there is no need to resort to violence to assert and establish our identity over anyone else’s. For Kashyap, all our different homes can be brought together to form a happy society through kindness and acceptance. And it is through this that the wandering person finds a home in a heart.
— The Curious Reader 
When an author writes from a restive part of India — say, Kashmir or, in the present case, Assam — readers often expect him to focus on questions of violence or identity. This can unwittingly infringe on the author’s right to express himself freely, and relegate his own experiences to a secondary position. In His Father’s Disease, Aruni Kashyap not only addresses this issue but also challenges it through 10 remarkable short stories, while exploring the ideas of linguistic and ethnic stereotypes and sexuality.
— The Telegraph
And every once in a while, Kashyap’s conversational, no-frills prose yields startling imagery: a woman seeing a bloodied face printed in a newspaper and imagining that the blood has seeped into the red lentils that were wrapped in the paper; another woman swimming compulsively and noisily across a pond because she doesn’t want to hear the sounds of her son making love with another man in his hut. At such moments, these stories strike a fine balance between being stark depictions of real lives and being as fable-like as the tale of the oppressed leaf-girl Tejimola.
— Scroll.in
To open author Aruni Kashyap’s book His Father’s Disease is to find your way into a wonderland of 10 long short stories... Watch out for this voice from a lesser-known corner of our country.
— The New Indian Express
The ten stories in Aruni Kashyap’s His Father’s Disease share a discussion about the struggles of finding community and acceptance, whether as a result of sexuality, relocation, or misunderstandings based on perceived cultural awareness....despite the dark themes, most of Kashyap’s stories have a dry sense of humor and occasionally make the reader laugh out loud.
— The Rain Taxi Review (Minneapolis)
There is this sense of ‘translation’ throughout Kashyap ten-story collection. Every character is an outsider to the world around them: a homosexual man in his village in Assam, an Assamese in New Delhi, an Assamese in America, an inter-racial couple in the home of a conservative American family, and so on. The stories present characters that exist without that perfect jigsaw fit, of a world where we are always left with a sense of unfinished, of new questions to answer even after the story is long finished.
— The Chakkar : An Indian Arts Review