A breathtaking novel, reborn in English by the co-champion of the 2021 JCB Prize for Literature, is rattling the literary tracks. V. Shinilal’s The Wanderer, a politically charged odyssey, transforms a train voyage from Thiruvananthapuram to Chandigarh into a kaleidoscope of India’s vibrant, fractured spirit aboard the Sampark Kranti Express.

Picture this: the train hauls a relic of yesteryear—a steam locomotive dubbed the Wanderer—bound for a grand showcase at Delhi’s Republic Day parade. This iron horse doesn’t just chug across India’s vast expanse; it carries a living mosaic of its people, each passenger a thread in the nation’s sprawling tapestry. Leading the charge is Karamchand, christened in honor of the Mahatma, whose mind spins a fantastical second journey—one stitched from the landscapes whizzing by, the ghosts of his past, and the echoes of history embedded in every station stop.

Shinilal’s pen dances through time, summoning the clatter of British railway hammers, the cannon fire of Portuguese marauder Almeida along Kerala’s shores, the fiery defiance of the 1857 uprising, the chaos of Chauri Chaura, and the smoldering wounds of Godhra. These historical sparks ignite conversations about today’s infernos—reservation battles, the quiet despair of farmer suicides, and the tangled threads of identity and nationhood.

The train’s compartments brim with stories as wild and varied as India herself. There’s John, a British lensman chasing wildlife through his camera; a trio of TTEs policing the rails; a woman cradling the unborn child of a man from across the border; a sex worker carrying the weight of her trauma; and weary Gujarati pilgrims fresh from Rameshwaram’s sacred shores. In a haunting twist, Karamchand locks horns with Narendra Dabholkar, the slain rationalist, in a debate about what makes a nation—until death silences their exchange mid-journey.

With a cast as diverse as the train’s rattling coaches, The Wanderer lays bare the fault lines of caste, class, and gender, using the locomotive’s very bones as a metaphor. Karamchand’s quip—“a train is a tiny biopsy of India”—rings like a bell, cutting through the noise to reveal the novel’s beating heart.

Born in Malayalam and now steaming into the global spotlight, Shinilal’s creation has been electrified by its prize-winning translator, offering readers everywhere a ticket to this unforgettable ride. As India gears up for Republic Day, The Wanderer thunders onto shelves, daring us to peer into the soul of a nation that’s forever on the move—beautiful, broken, and bold. Grab your copy now and hop aboard.

About the Author

V. Shinilal, a literary luminary of modern Malayalam fiction, crafts tales that resonate with the pulse of contemporary India. Hailing from the lush outskirts of Nedumangad near Thiruvananthapuram, he channels his days as a cog in the Indian Railways into stories that rumble with life. His celebrated novels—Udal Bhauthikam, Adi, 124, and Iru—stand alongside his evocative short story collections like Chola, Buddhapadham, Garisappa Aruvi Adhava Oru Jalayathra, and Naroda Patyayil Ninnulla Bus. Shinilal’s pen has earned him a treasure trove of accolades: the inaugural Karoor Award for Udal Bhauthikam, the 2021 Padmarajan Award for 124, and the prestigious O.V. Vijayan Award in 2023. His novel Sampark Kranti (known in English as The Wanderer) clinched the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award for best novel in 2022, a testament to its brilliance. His works, rich with local flavor, have journeyed beyond Malayalam, finding new voices in various Indian languages.

About the Translator

Nandakumar K., a wizard of words, shares the crown of the 2021 JCB Prize for Literature for his co-translation of M. Mukundan’s Delhi Gadhakal (retitled Delhi: A Soliloquy). His alchemy doesn’t stop there—he’s breathed English life into a slew of gripping works: A Thousand Cuts (Attupokaatha Ormakal), the raw memoir of Professor T.J. Joseph; The Lesbian Cow and Other Stories by Indu Menon; In the Name of the Lord (Karthavinte Namathil), Sr Lucy Kalappura’s defiant autobiography; and a trio of Vinoy Thomas’s tales—Elephantam Misophantam (Aanaththam Piriyaththam), Anthill (Puttu), and Blackened (Karikkottakkary)—plus Haritha Savithri’s Zin. A grandson of the legendary Mahakavi Vallathol Narayana Menon, Nandakumar carries poetry in his blood. By day, he navigates the high seas of business for a shipping line in Dubai, but by night, he bridges worlds with his translations, turning Malayalam gems into global treasures.