Why Did I Wait So Long? Falling Headfirst into The Covenant of Water

There are books that sit patiently on your “must read” list for months—sometimes years. You know the ones. You pick them up, read the blurb, sigh at the page count, put them down again, promise you’ll start them next week. Rinse and repeat.

For me, The Covenant of Water was one of those books.

It stared at me from the shelf (and my library loans list) for months. I borrowed it. I returned it. I borrowed it again. I kept hearing whispers that it was extraordinary, that it was a commitment, that it would be worth it. And still—I waited.

Because, let’s be honest: it’s a doorstopper. A proper, hefty, multi-generational, 700+ page epic that practically demands a long weekend, a strong cup of coffee, and a bit of faith.

But once I committed? Oh my heart. I fell in, hard.

A Story That Swells Like a River

Set in South India across the 20th century, The Covenant of Water follows a family haunted by a mysterious affliction: in every generation, someone dies by drowning. And from that single thread, Abraham Verghese weaves an intricate, expansive story full of love, medicine, grief, faith, and quiet miracles.

There’s something about the way this book unfolds—slow and steady, but always moving forward—that mimics the passage of time itself. Characters grow old. Babies are born. People fall in love, lose everything, and start again. And through it all, the water runs.

Verghese writes with such care and reverence for his characters, for the land, for the complicated legacies of family. His storytelling is so immersive that you don’t just read about this world—you live in it. You feel the humidity, the hospital wards, the grief of a daughter, the longing of a mother. You know these people.

I Didn’t Want It to End

Which is why, after 700 pages, I still wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I’d put off starting this book for ages because of how long it was—and then, when it finished, I would’ve happily read 200 more.

This will be one of my top books of the year, no question. Not just for the story (though it’s sweeping and stunning) but for the experience of reading it. The kind of reading that reminds you why you love books in the first place. Why stories matter. Why family—however complicated—is everything.

Don’t Be Intimidated by the Size

I know the page count looks scary. But here’s the thing: The Covenant of Water doesn’t feel like a long book. It flows, it breathes. It’s not rushed, but it’s never dull. If anything, it’s the kind of novel that makes you slow down and read more mindfully—not because it’s hard, but because it’s rich.

And maybe that’s the best kind of epic: not one that races, but one that lingers.

If this one has been sitting on your shelf (or your library account) like it was on mine—just start. Trust me. You won’t want it to end either.

Because life is too short to read bad books (or to be scared of big books).