Much of human history has played itself out along the rim of the Indian Ocean. In a first-of-its-kind attempt, bestselling author Sanjeev Sanyal tells the history of this significant region, which stretches across East Africa, the Middle East and the Indian subcontinent to South East Asia and Australia. He narrates a fascinating tale about the earliest human migrations out of Africa and the great cities of Angkor and Vijayanagar; medieval Arab empires and Chinese ‘treasure fleets’; the rivalries of European colonial powers and a new dawn. Sanjeev explores remote archaeological sites, ancient inscriptions, maritime trading networks and half-forgotten oral histories, to make exciting revelations. In his inimitable style, he draws upon existing and new evidence to challenge well-established claims about famous historical characters and the flow of history. Adventurers, merchants, explorers, monks, swashbuckling pirates, revolutionaries and warrior princesses populate this colourful and multifaceted narrative. The Ocean of Churn takes the reader on an amazing journey through medieval geopolitics and eyewitness accounts of long-lost cities to the latest genetic discoveries about human origins, bringing alive a region that has defined civilization from the very beginning.

The three worlds of the universe were reeling from shock: the asuras had taken control! Even the plants were withering away. Only the great Lord Vishnu could make things right again. He got both devas and asuras to churn up life-giving nectar from the ocean of milk and then ensured that the asuras were kept away from this gift of immortality.

Adi Parva is a graphic novel based on the Mahabharat and the oral tradition of ancient India.Adi Parva draws from the classic Sanskrit epic, the Mahabharat, and the Vishnu Purana. In it, the celestial river Ganga narrates the events from the beginning of time. The story is played out by a medley of characters ranging from gods to sages, queens to seers, hermits to seductresses and kings to warriors as they come together in this graphic retelling of Hindu mythology. This epic graphic novel depicts timeless events such as the churning of the sea, the snake sacrifice of Janmejaya and the first time the queen Gandhari wears a blindfold. The book combines breath-taking art with classic storytelling to paint the picture of a tale which has inspired and guided several hundred generations of people throughout the history of India.

Vishnu, they say, is just one of a powerful threesome, the highest lords of the universe. However, though Brahma has created the universe and Shiva can destroy it, it is up to the great god Vishnu to keep all creatures within it well and happy. Always compassionate, he is also the wisest of the trinity. It is he who good-naturedly sorts out the mess the others create and above all, Vishnu always favors the good and the pure.

Churning Waters tells the story of young Marguerite Westley, a heroine that discovers her family tree holds a secret link to the world of the Sironians - an underwater race of dark and powerful beings. The stunning beauty of these sirens can only be matched by the danger they represent. Marguerite must struggle to understand how she, a half-breed, fits into this new and mysterious world. Along the way, Marguerite is inevitably drawn to William Avery, a powerful young Sironian sworn to watch over her and keep her safe from those Sironians who would destroy her for what she represents. As their reluctant attraction turns to romance, Marguerite must prepare herself for a climactic collision between the human world of her past and the Sironian world she has now embraced.

Rising China and emerging India are becoming major maritime powers. As they build large navies to secure their growing interests, both nations are roiling the waters of the Indo-Pacific—the vast littoral stretching from Africa to Australasia. Invoking a tale from Hindu mythology— Samudra Manthan or "to churn the ocean"—C. Raja Mohan tells the story of a Sino-Indian rivalry spilling over from the Great Himalayas into the Indian and Pacific Oceans. He examines the prospects of mitigating the tensions and constructing a stable Indo-Pacific order. America, the dominant power in the area, is being drawn into the unfolding Sino-Indian competition. Despite the huge differences in the current naval capabilities of China, India, and the United States, Mohan argues that the three countries are locked in a triangular struggle destined to mold the future Indo-Pacific.

Something is rotten in the state of Amravati A mysterious ailment afflicts Indrah, reducing the omnipotent king of the gods to, well, not quite the man he used to be. To add to his woes, the Holy Trinity threaten to fire him for dereliction of duty. But Indrah's troubles wilt in comparison to those of his asura counterpart, Bali, ruler of Tripura. Even as Indrah's its fretting over his delicate health, an assassination attempt on Bali leaves the asura on the brink of death. There is only one thing that can save both these men from certain doom: amrit, the mythical nectar. But to secure it, the gods and the asuras will have to cooperate and churn the Ocean of Milk together... Will Indrah and Bali be able to put aside their ancient enmity, or will old rivalries keep them from pulling off this epic feat? Bali and the Ocean of Milk reimagines the eternal conflict between the gods and the asuras in a whacky thriller littered with bad jokes and corpses. EXTRACT The story of 'Bali and the Ocean of Milk' has been derived from an old myth of the now lost Hurrian civilization, which traces its origins to the banks of the Euphrates in northern Mesopotamia. The novel reimagines the eternal conflict between the Hurrian gods and their sworn enemies, the asuras, in a wacky thriller littered with bad jokes and corpses. Here's an extract from the book: Chapter 1: An Evening in Amravati The rays of the setting sun streamed through the tall crystal windows and lit up Urvashi's pretty oval face. Waves of silken hair dyed blonde in deference to the latest fashion, cascaded over her pale, shapely shoulders. Slender arms, diamond-encrusted bracelets on either wrist, were crossed over her full breasts. She was perched upon a blue velvet couch, her long bare legs dangling over its edge. As she swung them to and fro, toes brushing against the tiger skin carpet below, her golden anklets tinkled out a perky melody. She was a sight worthy of the gods - except that the god sitting opposite her did not seem to know this. She mooned at him with her large, blue eyes, fluttered her eyelashes, pouted, preened and sighed - elementary techniques that every apsara was taught during induction training. But her efforts had little effect on the god for whom they were intended. He continued to sit listlessly on his bed, a glum expression on his puffed face. Urvashis pout grew deeper. 'I' sorry, Indy, but this is just not happening.'Indrah did not reply. 're you even listening to me?'Urvashi sniffed. 'hings can' go on like this, you know. It' about time you did something about it.''es, yes, I know,'Indrah muttered. I just need a little more time...am trying hard.'Tying hard!'Urvashi exclaimed. You have to get hard, darling -not try.'Indrah winced while Urvashi chattered away in her sweet, girlish voice. I mean do you even remember the last time when that happened? That was like two hundred years ago. The day you killed that asura ... what was his name now umm...Vira Vita''ritra,'Indrah said under his breath. 'Vitra -right! That's the one. I knew it was something starting with a V. I still remember the day. You had gone out for the final battle and there I was sitting all by myself, worried stiff, when I heard the apsaras going -Vritra is dead! Victory to Lord Indrah!" Indrah grunted. We had such a wonderful time that night after the victory party. Urvashi sighed. You remember, love? Indrah grunted again. Urvashi stood up scowling and hurled an ivory comb to the ground. It shattered into pieces as her voice rose to a shrill pitch. Do you realize that we haven't made love one single time since that night? Do you? It's been two hundred years for heaven's sake and it's driving me up the wall. Come on, Indy darling -what's wrong with you?' Indrah sighed. There was no denying that she was right -he was in bad shape. Rolls of fat swaddled his hips. The taut muscles of his arms had turned into flaccid bags and the chiselled jaw-line, along which Sachi used to love running her fingers during their courtship days, had disappeared into a pair of pulpy chins. A lock of hair fell over his forehead. He brushed it back, wincing when his fingers touched the bald patch on top. It had surreptitiously replaced his once luxuriant mane and was now clearly visible unless he switched on his halo - the light dazzling anyone who looked him in the face. But these days, he realized that even this simple act drained him of energy quite quickly. In short, Indrah looked and felt like an elderly uncle - not the Almighty King of the Devas, Lord of Amravati, Scourge of the Asuras, Shatterer of Citadels. What was worse was that people had started noticing it...the corridors of the palace were abuzz with whisperings of the King's decrepit condition. Many of the lesser gods had even begun to talk openly about it. Soon he started cutting down on public appearances conducting most of his work from his inner chambers. It wouldn't be long before someone started asking uncomfortable questions on why the king spent most of his time inside his bedroom instead of the court...