You studied economics at BITS Pilani, and your career took you through journalism, software development, and consulting before you became a full-time writer. Did you always have writing in mind, or did your interest develop along the way?

 I was always interested in writing, though initially from a very childish perspective. I started around the age of ten or eleven after getting hooked on Enid Blyton. I'm sure you've heard of her books; she wrote two a year, each around 150 pages. I remember thinking, if I could write just one page a day, maybe I could do what she did. That's when the idea of writing first took root. I also read a lot, and writing runs in the family. On my father's side, two of my uncles were poets, and one of them, who's still alive in his 90s, is a published author. Another influential event was the launch of Kerala's first children's magazine. So yes, I got hooked early on. But now, I do regret not starting full-time writing sooner. Still, you cannot do much about fate; it unfolds the way it's meant to.

You've written thrillers, children's books, satire, and more, often exploring deep themes like morality and human nature. What inspired you to switch genres, and how do you balance storytelling with these complex ideas?

Honestly, it starts with boredom. I get fed up writing the same type of story repeatedly. I began with thrillers, wrote three or four, and then wanted to explore something deeper. That's when I wrote Hangman's Journal, about an executioner grappling with his conscience. It fascinated me, how does someone who has hanged over a hundred people live with that? Afterwards, I turned to Kashmir, a place I know well from my childhood and later visits. I saw it both before and after militancy began and even witnessed a grenade attack in Baramulla. That experience led to The Homecoming, which explores terrorism, morality, and the hold violence can have on people. My latest book, My Name is Jasmine, is about a woman Maoist trying to return to society. It questions the role of violence, especially in earlier decades when marginalized voices had no legal recourse. Things are different now, there are NGOs, media, and more awareness. So, the genre shifts come from a desire to explore new ground, do deep research, and never repeat myself.

You mentioned Hangman's Journal earlier. We know it's inspired by the life of Janardhanan Pillai, the last executioner in Travancore. Could you share how you discovered this story, your research process, and how the book came together?

Actually, the idea wasn't originally mine. Ravi Singh, an editor at Penguin, reached out to me. He'd heard of a hangman in Meerut, Uttar Pradesh, who had executed hundreds and led a fascinating life. But I was in Kerala then, and Meerut was too far. In the process, I discovered that Janardhanan Pillai, a former hangman, had lived in Travancore, near Nagercoil, which was much closer. He had passed away, but his family was still there. I spoke to his widow and children, and they painted a portrait of a deeply religious man who saw his work as fate. That's what drew me in. The book raises questions about morality, fate, and how much control we really have. I was also intrigued by the legal and procedural aspects, such as how jail officials treat condemned men, which reveals a lot about institutional ethics. I struggled for 11 months with the manuscript, and it all clicked suddenly. I wrote the entire book in a month, and it felt like it had written itself.

You mentioned your new book My Name is Jasmine. Could you tell us more about what inspired it and how you shaped the story?

Honestly, I don't know where my ideas come from. They just arrived. If they seem workable, I write the book. The idea for My Name is Jasmine has roots in my interest in justice, violence, and how society responds to both, something I began exploring while writing The Homecoming. I wanted this story to begin during the Emergency, a period when civil rights were suspended. Jasmine, the protagonist, is born of a rape; her mother, a tribal girl, dies in childbirth, and Jasmine grows up in an orphanage. After facing abuse, she runs away and joins a Maoist group. Over time, she becomes disillusioned, especially when she sees how deserters are treated and how leaders live in comfort while the rank-and-file suffer. Her pregnancy and forced abortion further trigger her moral reckoning. Eventually, she suffers a head injury and loses her memory, forcing her to rebuild her identity from scratch. This journey allowed me to explore power structures, memory, and morality. One trait common to many of my protagonists, including Jasmine, is critical thinking. They question what they're told, re-evaluate what they believe, and search for personal truth. That's something I deeply value.

I've heard you undertook a solo motorcycle journey covering 11,000 km across India over 40 days. That's incredible! How did that experience influence your writing or your perspective on life?

It was a huge confidence builder. This was over 20 years ago, long before GPS or reliable fuel stations everywhere. You had to know how to fix your own bike, punctures, spark plugs, engine oil. I planned the whole trip meticulously, and apart from a fever in Lucknow that set me back a couple of days, it went almost exactly as planned. I was riding nearly 350 km each day, and it was physically demanding but deeply rewarding. It toughened me up, both physically and mentally. Riding has always been meditative for me, like how some people play sports to reset their minds. I had to stop long-distance biking after a serious crash in 2023, multiple fractures, and a long recovery, but I still miss it. I am currently writing a book that includes that solo journey. It also explores a profound experience I had under spinal anaesthesia, like a moment of pure clarity or moksha. It's hard to describe, but it changed how I think about peace and consciousness. That journey, both the ride and that moment, are part of this book. Riding brought me closer to myself.

How do you take care of your mental health, especially given the pressures of writing and everyday life, and what advice would you give to younger generations?

That's a tough one. I've had long depressive spells and was diagnosed with mild bipolar disorder. It made holding down a job difficult earlier in life. I'm not off medication entirely, but I've found yoga and meditation to be incredibly grounding. As I age, my emotional responses are more stable. Still, bipolar is difficult; it can flip your mood from calm to rage or despair in a second. It damages relationships because people can't predict your reactions, making long-term plans difficult. I've had more depressive episodes than manic ones. For me, it's often been hypomania, not full-blown highs, just more energy for brief periods, and then back to the lows.

Planning things like my motorcycle trip was hard because I would hit stretches where I could not do anything. I've had to learn what works for me: surya namaskars, breathing exercises and mindfulness. However, there is no universal solution; medication benefits some individuals, while therapy assists others. Ultimately, you have to take responsibility for finding what keeps you afloat. If you have a good therapist, they will guide you, but the work is yours. That is the reality of living with depression or bipolar disorder.

The advice is simple: just be cool. That's it. When you're not cool, your decision-making gets clouded. Panic leads to poor choices. But when you stay calm, you think clearly and act wisely.

As someone who's seen the evolution of writing and publishing, how do you view AI's impact on the creative field, threat, opportunity, or something else?

 Generative AI, like ChatGPT or Perplexity, is already reshaping the field. Let me be blunt: it's a threat to mediocre writers. The kind of formulaic, surface-level writing that doesn't go deep, that's easily replaced by machines. But the writing that stems from empathy, from a genuine understanding of the human condition, that kind of storytelling will survive. AI can't replicate that depth. So, in a way, this is an opportunity, and it'll force us to aim higher and write with heart and insight.

Do you think excellence lies beyond fancy vocabulary?

Definitely. Excellence is internal. It's about your attitude, how committed you are to doing the best you can. I've seen it in artists, engineers, and writers alike. One example: a friend of mine, a retired army general, helped develop Akashteer, India's anti-drone defence. He integrated 40-year-old weapons with AI and radar to build a system that intercepts drones at a third of their cost. That kind of thinking, creative, adaptive, deeply committed, is true excellence. Whether in defence or writing, it's not about the tools. It's about how you use them.