Konda Surekha daughter Konda Sushmita Patel has written a book titled "Rudra".

First surprisingly, in today's generation which is addicted to various forms of writing esp. fiction and other genre's.

A Gen'z girl writing a book based on SIVA PURANA which is spiritual has caused both shock and surprise.

In fact, its an eye opening to youth as well.

Also, she has given a beautiful name GOD WHO CHOSE NOTHING which is BUDDIDA ICCHE VADINI EMI KOREDE.

She has written about Siva Parvati maritial relationship and also about Siva's family.

She has made a wonderful attempt and may Lord Siva bless her to write more works.

My Blessings and Best wishes.

Konda Susmita Patel D/o Konda Surekha in such a young age has written book on SIVA PURANA with title RUDRA.

For today's generation she has explored the SIVA-PARVATI relationship.

I strongly believe today's youth would be connected with her writings & her thoughts inspire the youngsters as well.

I sincerely admire and appreciate this thoughtful writing based on ancient scriptures and her efforts to bring the youth closer to our PURANAS.

A work that strips Hindu mythology down to its fierce, beating heart.

Susmita doesn't soften Shiva for Western sensibilities or sanitize him for comfortable devotion—she shows us the god who sits in cremation grounds and holds poison in his throat, who loves with terrifying intensity and destroys with surgical compassion.

The chapter on Ardhanarishvara alone is worth the price of admission.

This writing presents mythology as people experienced it: transformative, challenging, and alive.

Dangerous and necessary in equal measure. Susmita has written a book that refuses every simple answer, that honors the complexity of devotion while never flinching from its costs.

Her Shiva is neither the benevolent father-figure of popular imagination nor the distant philosophical abstraction of academic study—he is immediate, contradictory, utterly present.

The way she weaves domestic intimacy with cosmic scope, the way she makes ancient stories speak to contemporary questions of gender, power, and freedom without ever feeling anachronistic—this is mastery.

Read this book if you're ready to have your understanding of the divine completely reconstructed.

There are people one thing in private and quite another in public — and then there is Susmita.

In all the years I have known her, what has struck me most is not just her courage in public life, but the seamless way her private warmth and public strength exist in the same person, without contradiction.

She plans with clarity, leads with grace, and loves without condition.

She is the person who, in the middle of travel, will fall silent the moment an ambulance passes by — quietly, instinctively offering a prayer for a stranger she will never meet.

That small, unseen moment tells you everything about who she is. Brave in the world, tender at heart, and utterly pure in her intent — I am lucky to call her my Dosthuu.

If I had to describe Susmita in a single word, it would be unicorn — because there is simply no one else like her.

What sets her apart is a rare and extraordinary ability: she can be fully present in two completely different worlds without letting one bleed into the other.

At home, she is soft, playful, and deeply devoted to her family — her parents, her children, her husband.

In the public world, she is a force. She questions, she challenges, she pushes past every limit when someone needs defending.

She never lets her political identity walk through her front door, and she never lets the tenderness of home make her hesitate when it is time to fight.

Her causes are real — empathy, social responsibility, women's empowerment — and she lives them from the inside out, because she knows that change begins at home.

She is her own harshest critic, her own greatest strength, and the most quietly self-sacrificing person I know — like a silkworm, giving everything of herself so others may have something beautiful.

What I have always admired most about Susmita is this: the woman you see in public is not a version she performs — it is simply who she is.

Away from the spotlight, she is just as warm, just as present, just as genuinely caring.

She listens without judgment. She makes time for people no matter how full her day is.

She has a way of making everyone around her feel seen, safe, and important — and that is not a skill you can learn; it is something that lives in a person.

In public, she carries herself with confidence, grace, and a calm that people instinctively trust.

She never lets visibility change her, never lets recognition become ego.

Her purpose remains the same whether there is an audience or not.

Kind, strong, and deeply human — she is, at her core, a people person in the truest sense of the word.

Away from public attention, my sister is someone very few people truly get to see — and I consider that a privilege.

She keeps her circle small, her inner world guarded, but make no mistake: there is nothing fragile about that privacy.

When the people she loves need her, she doesn't hesitate, she doesn't calculate — she steps forward.

Growing up as the daughter of Konda Surekha and Konda Murali, she understood early that visibility is not always kind, and so she chose quiet strength over noise.

But she built her own place in people's hearts entirely on her own terms.

Young people trust her. Elders respect her. And that trust comes from something simple and rare — when she says she'll be there, she is.

Not halfway, not symbolically. Fully.

What I can say with certainty, as her sibling, is that there is almost no difference between who she is in public and who she is at home.

The care is the same. The sense of responsibility is the same. The stubbornness, too — very much the same.

She doesn't act strong; she is strong.

She carries people, problems, and expectations quietly, without making a show of it.

Relentless in her commitments, courageous when it costs her personally, and caring in the quiet, lifelong way that defines everything she does — that is my sister.