I didn't set out to write the longest sentence in English.
I set out to tell the truth; the kind that doesn't fit into paragraphs or pause politely between chapters.
The Last Sentence
is a single breath of story; over 27,318 words without a full stop; a reflection of how memory actually works: flowing, tangled, unfinished. This book is not a conventional novel. It's part lived experience, part poetic rebellion, part mirror held up to anyone who's ever questioned where they came from, who they are, or why they still carry what they do.
Written from the heart of Madras, now Chennai, it moves through childhood dreams, family ties, inner battles, cultural rhythm, grief that lingers, and hope that returns; not in plot twists, but in the quiet realizations that shape a life.
I didn't write this to impress you.
I wrote this because I had to; because some stories don't belong in neat boxes.
Because I believe every one of us is a sentence in progress; full of contradiction, beauty, pain, and potential.
This is my sentence. And now, it belongs to you too.
If you've ever felt too much, fallen apart silently, searched for something without knowing what; this book may not have your answers, but it might speak your language.
Let's breathe this together.
From first word to last.