Literary Rehab: How to balance Life with Lit

Hindustan Times

18-05-2025

Dear Reader,
This is my week of non-reading. I've been forced into literary rehab.
As someone who spends all their free time between the pages of a book, this is pure torture. The only times I haven't read were when I was forbidden to —maybe there were exams, or maybe my mother decreed I was straining my eyes too much. Even then, there were always inventive ways around the ban: reading a Five Find-Outers mystery between my science textbooks or reading Gone with the Wind under the sheets.
But now, even I know it's time to stop reading. I've returned to Mumbai to a house filled with cartons that need unpacking, a desk cluttered with unpaid invoices, and chaos in every corner. I have a week to fix it all before leaving again. The writing is on the wall: I need to stop reading—even my to-be-read list. Sonya, don't look at Audition by Katie Kitamura, never mind that your book club is reading it. Or How to Kill Your Family by Bella Mackie, by your bedside after your girls recommended it as riveting. Or Fasting—no, you can't call it 'health research.' and pretend that's not reading. Sonya, read the writing on the wall. Stop Reading.
My friends say, 'You read so much!' like it's a virtue. (The truth? I've long disguised my escapist addiction as self-improvement. My notebooks are plastered with lofty quotes: 'Reading fiction allows us to explore the depths of our own emotions, question the world around us' 'Readers are leaders,' etc. All true—but did those wise souls mean for me to neglect life entirely?)
I skim from story to story, drunk on make-believe. Monday: Chinese spies in The Hidden Hand by Stella Rimington. Tuesday: Shanghai murder mysteries. Wednesday: Nigerian sci-fi in Death of the Author. Friday: House of Huawei. And on the weekend, real life scams in Empire of Pain and The Everything War.
Sounds perfectly bookish I know. Except that at this point, between you and me, and strictly off the record - it's time to stop. My binge-reading has left me mired in a mountainous mess. And it's just a week of not reading—how bad could it be? Plus I've done it once before.
Six years ago, following Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way program, I was forced to quit all reading as part of the course. For a whole week ! The first days were hell—what to do in queues, waiting rooms or winding down before bed? But slowly, I re-learned to play the piano, sketched, even tidied drawers. Shockingly, not reading had unexpected perks.
Also Read | Book Box | Reading without rules
Now on Day 1 of literary detox, I clear my desk, my cupboard and my hard drive. Afterwards, I slump onto my reading spot (red cushion, propped pillows) with no soothing prospect of a book before me. Instead I stare into space, at my walls full of bookshelves, and wonder: Did I always read this much? At 21, studying at IIM Calcutta, I barely touched novels—just MBA notes. Work life weekends in Mumbai revived my habit. Motherhood pared reading down to Saki and Maugham short stories, read in bits between baby cries. Now, with grown kids, I read 100+ books a year, and binge on book clubs.
This week is different. With no books to gobble my attention, I discover life beyond the pages. I sit about more, I day dream. The girls and I go buy flowers, we go hunting for light fixtures. I make mango ice cream, egg sandwiches and homemade mustard. I write more. I start writing a screenplay. I also end up irritating my family ! Suddenly I am noticing all their little misdeeds and their messes. Go back to your murder mysteries, they beg me.
As the week draws to a close, I am strangely content. This literary detox feels like a palate cleanser, like breathing in the scent of coffee beans between glasses of wine. I am more intentional and more mindful about my reading life. I shift away from the latest bestsellers and decide to begin a long planned project - re-reading old classics, beginning with The Brothers Karamazov. It feels like this break - even from a good habit - has sparked creativity in me, and given me more focus.
Going back to reading is amazing - for reading is magic—it deepens our empathy, stretches our imagination, and connects us to lives we'll never live. But I realise there's another kind of magic too: unhurried conversations, homemade mustard, swimming with your daughters, noticing the shape of your day. The best stories aren't just the ones you read—they are also the ones you pause long enough to live.
(Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya's Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. If you have any reading recommendations or suggestions, write to her at [e-mail]. The views expressed are personal.)