'Heartbreak Unfiltered' Book Review: Bang, Bang, S/He Shot Me Down

From Mills & Boon to real life is a quantum leap though perhaps not as wide as one would expect. A health hazard while trekking in the mountains led Milan Vohra to turn her creativity to finishing the books that she thought were really important and she decided to explore what it was that people really went through in their personal relationships. Heartbreak Unfiltered is a candid and empathetic book that sits at the intersection of storytelling and self-reflection. Drawing on years of writing romance fiction, Milan Vohra turns her attention to heartbreak—not as a single emotion, but as a shared human experience shaped by circumstance, timing, and vulnerability.  

By the time Vohra began putting the book together, she had already spent years organising many of the stories that are part of its core. As she notes, people tend to confide in her easily possibly because romance writers are seen as know it alls when it comes to relationships - she is a good listener, volunteers anecdotes from her own life and remembers details. Those confiding moments became the backbone of the book.  

The stories veer from tough situations to tender ones with a Chicken Soup for the Soul feel to them – and yes the book can be called a kind of Chicken Soup since it falls into today’s need for comfort and understanding. Nor are they all straight stories of love and break up – there are trans people as well exploring issues of identity making the collection a wide ranging one – in short, the book brings together stories of real people across genders, ages, sexual orientations and social backgrounds. Names and details have of course been changed, but the emotional truth remains intact. 

Among all the Yashs, Tarikas and Gangas, Arun’s name stands out with his, Hugs for Free: Story, which grew out of an unexpected encounter in Bengaluru’s Central Business District in 2020. Vohra describes seeing a young man standing quietly with a sign asking for a hug. What followed from that encounter was an understanding that rather than a single gesture it was more important to be seen and heard. The subsequent meeting between the two which took place on a rain-soaked day, with a long, unhurried conversation, captures the spirit of the book: intimacy without spectacle.  

When she started the book, Vohra intended the narratives to stand on their own, relying on readers to recognise their own experiences in the parallels. However, those who initially went through the book told her that some kind of interaction was required to make the stories more relatable. The final version has Vohra’s thoughts on and learnings from the stories and exercises that address patterns such as attachment styles and push–pull dynamics, offering readers tools to process their own heartbreak rather than merely witness others. Several searching questions are asked like for example on the different languages of love and how ‘almost relationships’can be painful too. 

The addition certainly adds a new dimension to the book, though it occasionally shifts the tone from quiet observation to guided introspection. Readers drawn to the raw storytelling may find the framework somewhat instructive, while others will welcome the clarity and support it offers. Vohra’s background in advertising also shows here; she encourages readers to take a drone’s eye view of their relationships, stepping back from emotional overload to see patterns more clearly. 

Heartbreak Unfiltered is Vohra’s first attempt at non-fiction and that is obvious from the way she goes about her task with a mix of hesitation and resoluteness. She writes openly about personal vulnerabilities—work trauma, grief, body image, putting herself on a level with her subjects rather than above them. This openness lends the book its credibility, even when the writing remains deliberately simple. 

Ultimately, Heartbreak Unfiltered will find a permanent place in the homes of those looking for emotional closure and understanding. The book does not attempt any literary innovation, nor does it suggest that there are easy ways out. Instead, it provides a paper version of a shoulder to cry on and the suggestion that heartbreak, painful as it is, can also become a form of resistance, a way of forging new meaning from loss.