In the Preface, Thayil tells us how poetry was the only medicine that could make him “return to sanity” and was probably the only way that allowed him to recuperate from a series of events that eventually took the shape of what he calls “an annotation of private grief”. Interestingly, the writing of this “private grief” was a “collective experience”, informs the poet. The title of this book, for which Thayil thanks Stephen Sturgeon, is embedded with a sense of catharsis. More than being about misgivings, mistakes, and maladies, each and every poem lies on the bedrock of empathy, compassion, camaraderie, and communion. Even when the shadow of foreboding looms large, there is a silver lining of assurance. For instance, in the sonnet sequence ‘Premonition’ (earlier titled ‘What Happened to Your Wife, the Dancer’ and the reader will figure out the reason behind the change), there are verses that appear cramped with images of decay and death but even in that whirlpool of everything falling apart, the poet doesn’t hesitate to talk of dreams, a benign Sunday, the bridge between is and was light, and safekeeping. Despite imminent retribution and remorse, there is a resonance of revival and relief. Between the home to where you are headed and the home that isn’t what it used to be is the transit. And this is where the poet finds home.