New Delhi, April 6 -- I read Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go for the first time when it came out in 2005. At the time, I was a student at university in England and counting my pennies carefully. A brand-new hardback edition, priced at around £20, was an indulgence I could ill-afford. So, I went to my favourite local bookstore and read it over two long sittings under the watchful but kind eyes of one of the booksellers I had befriended. By the time I was got to the end, I had a lump in my throat and my eyes had turned teary, several times.

Recently, I re-read Never Let Me Go on its 20th anniversary-my very own copy of it, I am proud to say-half-expecting to laugh off my early reaction as the emotional excesses of youth. I was surpri...