Mr. Apurba Bhattacharya

There is a moment that Apurba Bhattacharya returns to often — a boardroom, in one of the most powerful technology companies in the world, where a meeting was going exactly the way meetings like that always go: the most politically skilled person in the room was winning, the most technically capable person was being managed, and everyone else was performing their version of engagement while the actual decisions were made in the ten minutes before the room filled up.

He had read the Arthashastra by then. And sitting in that room, watching Chanakya's 2,300-year-old map of power play out in a modern technology company with perfect fidelity, he made a decision: this map needed to be available to more people. In language they could actually use. In stories they could actually see themselves in.

That decision became the Chanakya Series.

Apurba spent two decades working with global technology giants including Apple and Microsoft as a Consumer Solutions Consultant — roles that put him at the precise intersection of technology, human behaviour, and organisational power. He watched how decisions were really made, how careers were really built and derailed, how the dynamics Chanakya described in ancient kingdoms played out with uncomfortable accuracy in modern glass-and-steel offices.

He is also a passionate student of Indian mythology and philosophy — an amateur content creator in a field he believes the modern world urgently needs: the translation of ancient Indian wisdom into the language and context of today. Not as academic study. As a living, usable, immediately applicable map for the life you are actually living.

He is an AI enthusiast who sees in the emerging intelligence of machines the same patterns Chanakya identified in the intelligence of human networks — and who believes that the person who understands both will navigate the next century with advantages that neither technology alone nor ancient wisdom alone can provide.

He lives in Kolkata, India.

The Chanakya Series is his answer to the boardroom he sat in that day — and to every person who has ever felt that the arena was arranged in ways nobody explained to them, and that the explanation existed somewhere, if only they knew where to look.

It exists. It was written 2,300 years ago. These books are where it lives now.