Sacred Unions and Other Stories: Tales from Purvanchal, written by Nalin Verma – a journalist, storyteller, author, and teacher at Jamia Hamdard University, New Delhi – is a collection of five beautiful narratives, each one rooted in the soil of Purvanchal. The book carries no preface or introduction, leaving it entirely to the reader to discover what unites the five stories. The back cover offers a few hints, but as they say, one can see a different sky from the same window.Stories of this kind, beyond being a means of entertainment, serve as mirrors of human history – reflecting people, their thoughts, their behaviour, their surroundings, their standards of living, their culture, and the evolving voice of dissent within the social order. Moreover, a good story must intertwine imagination with fact in a smooth and harmonious way. On both counts, this book earns full marks.Sacred Unions and Other Stories – Tales from Purvanchal, Nalin Verma, Om Books International, 2026.The collection opens with ‘Kallu and Gulli’ – two young people from poor backgrounds who fall in love, with their parents’ blessing for marriage. When the local Daroga enters the scene as a villain, events take a dark turn and Kallu is forced to flee the village before the wedding. What appears to be a dead end, however, leads to a surprisingly pleasant resolution: by chance, Kallu finds shelter and work as a gardener at the home of a Superintendent of Police in Hazaribagh. The compassionate lady SP develops a soft corner for the boy, eventually accompanies him back to his village, and with the help of the local SP, brings the tyrannical Daroga to account – who, it emerges, was SP’s own estranged father. The love story ends on a joyful note. Rich with vivid characters, layered subplots, animals, and beautiful descriptions of village life, this opening story sets a high bar.The second story, ‘Lost and Found’, follows Rahman Kaka and his son Shamsuddin. Rahman Kaka, a man living alone, has woven parrots, crows, sparrows, dogs, and the neighbourhood’s children into his daily life with such warmth that he is loved and respected by all. After his death, his son Shamsuddin inherits the property but squanders his father’s hard-earned goodwill through rudeness and immaturity. Isolated and chastened, he returns from the city with his wife – a friendly, helpful, and socially adept woman who slowly wins back the village’s affection and, in doing so, transforms Shamsuddin as well. The family reclaims what was lost. The story is beautifully told, with each episode engaging the reader’s attention and heart.The third story, ‘Rajkumar’s Heartthrob’, follows a young, educated, and aristocratic boy named Rajkumar who falls in love with Sundari, an illiterate village girl, during a holiday visit home. The story brims with interesting characters and subplots, and the portrayal of an elephant’s emotional sensitivity is particularly striking. The narrative ends deliberately open: Rajkumar returns to the village and reaffirms his love, but whether he and Sundari will ultimately be united remains, as the author leaves it, a million-dollar question.The fourth story, ‘The Flower Girl’, is a tale of fleeting, luminous love between the narrator – a young student – and a gardener’s daughter. Their love blossoms at first sight and is expressed across only two brief encounters, yet it leaves a lasting imprint. A Sanyasi eventually enlightens the young man with the wisdom that the Flower Girl has always been present within him, in fragrance and beauty, but that he never opened his inner eyes to see her. Woven through the story are evocative descriptions of the Ganga across seasons, reflections on development and its cost to nature and human life, and the emotional turbulence of young love and loss.The fifth and final story, ‘The Sacred Unions’, is a testament to the quiet strength of two village women, Shakuntala and Ahilya, who are forced by society’s indifference to raise their children alone – through no fault of their own. Both come from what are understood to be ‘respected’ families, yet both are made to suffer in silence. In the end, their children flourish, receive a fine education, and marry each other. As Shakuntala’s son was born out of wedlock, the identity of his father had been held in silence until the day of the wedding – when mother and father were also reunited. The title at last reveals its full meaning: Sacred Unions, in every sense.All five stories are deeply engaging. The narration is simple yet beautiful, and each story faithfully captures the local landscape, characters, and culture of Purvanchal. The historical perspective is particularly valuable – can anyone today imagine a Daroga making his rounds on a bicycle? How many among the younger generation know of latta, the snack made from mahua? These stories illuminate our journey from elephant to BMW, from simplicity to complexity, from the unrecorded to the remembered. At a few points, the author uses local language where no translation would do justice – and rightly so. It enriches the reader’s understanding rather than alienating them. One small gripe: the local nursery rhyme Chanda Mama Dur Ke would have been more effective in its original form rather than in translation, which inevitably loses its music.Ajay Kumar Verma is former director and professor of the All India Institute of Hygiene & Public Health, Kolkata.