“The Book I Found Between Cities” — A Voyager’s Review of Unheard
I’ve crossed deserts where the wind whispers secrets to the dunes.
I’ve scaled mountains where silence holds weight heavier than stone.
I’ve sipped bitter tea with strangers who became family for a day.
And yet—
In all my wandering, I had not found something like Unheard.
It was not in a grand library.
Not handed to me by a scholar or a sage.
It lay instead on a humble shelf in a corner café in Melbourne—forgotten, perhaps, or simply waiting.
The title caught my eye: Unheard.
Two syllables.
Soft.
But charged.
I flipped it open like one might peel the edge of an old map.
What I found inside…
Was not a travel story.
But it was a journey.
Each page, a step into a soul not seeking rescue—
but recognition.
The author, Bhavini Bhargava, does not beg to be understood.
She writes like someone who knows the world rarely listens to girls who don’t scream.
And so she whispers.
Beautifully.
Painfully.
Honestly.
Her words reminded me of faces I’ve seen in border towns—smiling to survive.
Of young people I’ve met who hold the weight of a thousand expectations
on backs still growing.
She speaks of achievement like it’s both a crown and a cage.
Of silence as both sanctuary and sentence.
And of being strong—not in the way stories often celebrate,
but in the way reality often demands.
Bhavini is a voyager too.
Not across lands,
but across emotional terrains.
Grief. Pressure. Longing. Isolation.
And somewhere—between the shadows—resilience.
Not the Instagrammable kind.
But the quiet, daily, aching kind.
By the time I closed the book, the café had emptied.
Outside, the city moved on.
Cars. Conversations. Coffee orders.
But I?
I was still with her.
Still standing on the ledge of those verses.
Still wondering how many other “unheard” voices are out there,
sitting beside me in crowded trains or across passport queues.
I left a note in the back of the book before returning it to the shelf:
“To the next traveler—
If you carry invisible burdens,
these pages might carry you for a while.”
Because Unheard is not just poetry.
It is proof.
That somewhere, someone understands.
And she had the courage to write it down.
—
From a fellow wanderer,
who found a piece of home in your words.
Narrative Voyager Award

This book is a winner of the Narrative Voyager Award, which recognizes the transformative power of storytelling. In a world filled with myriad voices and stories waiting to be discovered, this award highlights books that inspire empathy, challenge conventions, and foster connections across borders—be they physical, cultural, or emotional. By celebrating these stories, we hope to create a literary map where every reader can take on journeys of discovery, reflection, and growth.
We’d love to hear from you!
What are your thoughts on this piece? Share your insights in the comments below!
- What stood out to you most about this post?
- Have you read a book recently that relates to the themes discussed here?
- What’s your favorite takeaway or reflection from this write-up?
Let’s keep the conversation going—your thoughts make this space richer!
Disclaimer: The content on this site is provided for informational and inspirational purposes only. While we strive for accuracy, the views expressed in reviews, articles, and recommendations are subjective and may not reflect the opinions of all readers.
We receive complimentary copies of all books we review. However, this practice does not compromise the integrity or honesty of our reviews. Every write-up reflects the contributor’s genuine impressions and critical analysis, ensuring transparency and trust with our readers.
For a complete understanding of our practices, please refer to our full Disclaimer, Privacy Policy, and Terms of Service. These documents outline how we manage your information, ensure transparency, and uphold your rights as a user.
To request for a review, to nominate your favorite book for an award, or for more details about our awards, click here.
Other Stories
Grieving Ic by Edward Michael Supranowicz
What does a feeling look like when it turns symmetrical? Spend time with Edward Michael Supranowicz’s artwork, let its forms speak, and discover meaning by lingering with the image quietly.
Book Review: The Stress Book by Dr. D. Terrence Foster
If an octopus could text, juggle, cook, plan a future, soothe trauma, and still feel behind—would it read The Stress Book? You’ll find out why that’s relevant as you read on.
Once A King, Now A Prince by Ira Blacker
What happens when imagination becomes a survival skill instead of a pastime? Once A King, Now A Prince by Ira Blacker reveals the answer—if you’re willing to follow the journey.

