Rating
⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2 (4.5 out of 5)
After spending years reviewing books at Deified Publication, I’ve noticed something interesting. The stories I remember most aren’t always the ones filled with dramatic twists or impossible coincidences. They’re usually the ones where ordinary people live ordinary lives, yet their emotions feel so familiar that I end up thinking about them days later.
That was my experience with Echoes Of You by Garima Ashok.
When I first began reading, I expected a gentle romance. The blurb promised memories, friendship, and the lingering effect some people leave on our lives. Those ingredients are common enough. But somewhere between Trisha carrying her sketchbook through the streets of Allahabad, Raj joking his way into her family’s house during a hectic moving day, and the slow evolution of a friendship that neither of them fully understood at first, I found myself becoming invested in people who felt believable rather than idealized.
What I appreciated most was that this novel doesn’t rush its relationships. It gives conversations room to breathe. It allows attraction to grow from familiarity instead of instant declarations. As someone who has edited and reviewed hundreds of manuscripts over the years, I know how difficult that balance is to achieve. Sometimes authors mistake slow pacing for emotional depth. Here, the slower rhythm usually works because it reflects the personalities of the characters rather than becoming a storytelling gimmick.
That doesn’t mean the novel is perfect. There were moments where I wished certain scenes had been trimmed slightly, especially when conversations circled similar emotions. Even then, I never felt disconnected from the people at the center of the story. That’s a credit to Garima Ashok’s ability to make Trisha and Raj feel like individuals you might genuinely know.
What the Book Is About
At its heart, Echoes Of You is a story about first love, growing up, heartbreak, healing, and understanding that life doesn’t always follow the path we imagine in our twenties.
The story begins in Allahabad, a city that almost becomes another character in the novel. Its narrow lanes, bustling markets, temple bells, old neighbourhoods, and familiar rhythms provide more than just a backdrop. They shape the personalities of the people living there.
Trisha is an artist by nature. She notices colours, textures, and details that others overlook. Raj is almost her opposite in the beginning. He’s cheerful, sociable, energetic, and has the sort of personality that naturally fills any gathering with laughter.
Their first meeting happens during Trisha’s family’s house shifting. I actually smiled during this sequence because it captures something many Indian readers will recognise immediately. Families are moving furniture, relatives are giving instructions, cartons seem endless, and then Raj appears carrying boxes with complete confidence, joking with everyone as though he already belongs there. Instead of trying to impress Trisha through dramatic gestures, he simply becomes useful. That felt refreshingly ordinary.
Their early interactions are built around playful conversations rather than grand romance. One of my favourite early moments comes when Raj notices Trisha treating her brushes almost like precious possessions. His teasing about protecting the brushes while she calmly replies that “brushes are paints” may sound like a small exchange, but it establishes their personalities beautifully. She’s composed and observant. He’s expressive and constantly looking for opportunities to make her smile.
As the chapters progress, those everyday interactions become the foundation of something much deeper.
The terrace scenes especially stood out to me. Trisha paints while Raj finds excuses to visit. Their conversations move naturally between art, imagination, family life, and dreams without feeling forced. Instead of relying on dramatic confessions, the novel lets affection develop through repeated meetings and increasing comfort with each other’s company.
That gradual progression reminded me of friendships I’ve seen become relationships in real life. Rarely does anyone realise the exact moment everything changes. It usually happens through countless ordinary afternoons.
Garima Ashok captures that feeling with genuine warmth.
What Stood Out to Me
The biggest strength of Echoes Of You is its emotional patience.
Modern romance novels often rush toward dramatic milestones because readers expect constant movement. This novel takes another approach. It spends considerable time allowing the reader to simply spend time with its characters.
Chapter Three illustrates this particularly well. Raj’s friends begin teasing him after noticing how differently he talks about Trisha. What could have become a predictable comedy sequence instead reveals something deeper about Raj himself. He struggles to explain exactly why she’s different. He talks about her smile, her sincerity, even the way she notices small things around her. His friends laugh, of course, but beneath the humour you can sense that Raj himself is slowly recognising feelings he hasn’t yet admitted.
That scene felt honest because people often understand their emotions only after trying unsuccessfully to explain them to someone else.
Another aspect I genuinely admired was Trisha’s identity as an artist.
Her sketchbook isn’t simply a hobby added to make her interesting. Art becomes the language through which she understands the world. Whether she’s noticing sunlight on rusted gates, sketching before moments disappear, or expressing emotions she cannot easily speak aloud, creativity becomes part of her personality instead of functioning as decoration.
I’ve read many novels where characters are labelled artists without their artistic perspective influencing the narrative. Here, it consistently shapes how Trisha experiences everyday life.
I also appreciated the way family relationships are written.
Neither Raj’s nor Trisha’s parents feel like background characters inserted only to move the plot forward. Their conversations, observations, and small moments of humour create the sense of real households. There’s a lovely sequence where Trisha’s mother notices subtle changes in her daughter’s happiness long before anyone says anything directly. Later, Raj’s mother also begins recognising what her son himself is only beginning to understand.
These moments give the novel emotional grounding because families aren’t treated as obstacles or stereotypes. They’re simply people who notice more than the younger generation assumes.
The writing itself leans toward a soft, reflective style. Some readers will enjoy that immediately. Others who prefer very fast moving plots may occasionally wish the narrative picked up speed. Personally, I found the slower rhythm suited the emotional focus of the story, although a little tightening in a few dialogue sections could have made certain chapters even stronger.
One chapter that lingered in my mind long after finishing it revolves around Raj helping Trisha see herself differently through her paintings. Instead of complimenting her appearance, he responds to the emotions inside her artwork. I thought that was a meaningful choice by the author because it shows affection growing through understanding rather than surface attraction.
Another memorable detail appears much later when Trisha begins rebuilding her life after heartbreak. Rather than presenting healing as a dramatic transformation, the novel allows it to happen through work, art, new friendships, and the gradual return of hope. That felt emotionally believable, and I respected the restraint Garima Ashok shows in writing those chapters.


With over 11 years of experience in the publishing industry, Priya Srivastava has become a trusted guide for hundreds of authors navigating the challenging path from manuscript to marketplace. As Editor-in-Chief of Deified Publications, she combines the precision of a publishing professional with the empathy of a mentor who truly understands the fears, hopes, and dreams of both first-time and seasoned writers.