The Big Book Shelf - Sunil Sethi

Author: Sunil Sethi
Pages: 240
Publishers: Penguin
Price: 350



With the opening up of the publishing industry in the country and the rapid flowering of desi writing in English, the interest around books and authors has but naturally intensified. The Jaipur literature fest that has ballooned into a hugely successful event in its last six years further underlines this feeling of enthusiasm and intellectual leaning among the modern, literate Indian.

In such a context journalist-presenter Sunil Sethi's effort to compile a book of some of his best interviews with present-day, renowned authors is timely and useful. Sethi is a familiar face on television with his show Just Books on NDTV.  In his eloquently written introduction he reveals how he had ample doubts about the viability of the show when the idea was first suggested. He wondered whether a half hour show on books would be sustainable given how much of a visual medium television is. Also writers as a breed can be shy and elusive. But Sethi's fears proved unfounded and the show caught on. Over the last few years many illustrious authors have appeared on it. And it is some of these rare interviews that find a place in Sethi's elegantly penned book. The purpose, he says, was to document these conversations and for that reason, and many others, this is a completely valid exercise.

Sethi chooses 30 of his best interviews with internationally acclaimed authors where facets of their craft and motivations are revealed. More than anything they open up a window into the world of these thinking, imaginative people. To say they are the ultimate representatives of the larger corpus of literature being produced currently in India or other countries may not be accurate but their lives and work are clearly a source of education and inspiration to readers and aspiring writers alike.



What is revealing through these interviews is of course a well-established fact. That opportunities of education and travel are central to the evolution of a writer. Most of the authors covered are second generation Indians who belonged to fairly affluent families and studied and travelled around the world. So from Vikram Seth to Salman Rushdie to Amitav Ghosh to Suketu Mehta to Anita and Kiran Desai - all spent a considerable time away from their countries, which enabled them to have richer experiences and exposure.

The same holds true for Pakistani novelists - Mohsin Hamid, Daniyal Mueenuddin and Nadeem Aslam. Most of them were academically brilliant and blessed with an imaginative, fertile mind. But it's also true that being part of different worlds provided them with larger perspectives and a greater facility with the English language. Importantly, this problem of being caught between two worlds (moving from their third world motherland to the first world) - fed their creative impulse - and they were naturally drawn to themes such as exile, identity and belonging in their writings. Today with such massive changes coming about in India in the last one decade - where it is economically more empowered and global travel/education has become a trend - the complexion of Indian writing in English has understandably changed and a variety of literature is coming to the fore.

Yet, what is revealed through the worlds of non-fiction writers like William Dalrymple, Patrick French, Ramachandra Guha and Paul Theroux is their intense passion for history, research, academics and travel. Dalrymple was a student-backpacker who took off to Northern China for his book In Xanadu. He briefly passed through India and those memories lingered. And thus began his invigorating journey into Delhi, along with his artist-wife Olivia, out of which City of Djinns was both. More journeys followed, and then came the grand centre-piece of his work - While Mughals and The Last Mughal. What comes through in Dalrymple is his infectious energy and peseverance, as he goes through delving into his subjects with a genial mix of curiosity and affection.

Ramachandra Guha's intitiation into being a writer is equally interesting. His studies in anthropology prompted a research on political activist Verrier Elwin. He proved to be such a potent influence on Guha that the latter decided to write a full-fledged biography of Elwin. "I discovered the joys of working amongst forgotten, buried and dusty documents," he says. That stoked such a strong interest in academic non-fiction that Guha since then has produced some extremely valuable books on politics, leaders and sports. The author of books such as The Picador Book Of Cricket (2001) and India After Gandhi (2007) also gives a complete perspective on non-fiction writing. He sees tremendous scope for non-fiction in the coming years.  So far, he says, the writing of Indian history has been inward-looking and self-referential and paid no attention to literary elegance to reach out to a wider audience. Patrick French calls Indian biographies 'self congratulatory and flattering portraits' "There's no point in researching and writing in stilted sociological prose. And there's no point in just writing fun stories without deep research," says Guha.
The author/columnist also stresses that non-fiction involves artisty too. "The hisorian is a researcher who digs deep in the archives and gets good material, but he is also an artist and a writer who constucts his story in an appealing, intersting, evocative and accessible way," he says.

- Ramchandra Guha

Again, each of these writers was greatly drawn to the world of letters, and were heavily into reading since childhood. For authors like Bapsi Sidhwa and Ved Mehta, it was their physical handicap that provided the creative impulse for writing. Sidhwa was struck with polio at the age of two and could not be sent to school for long. She says it was her feeling of intense loneliness that made her seek refuge in books. An unhappy marriage followed and there was separation from her children. It was only after her second marriage that the Pakistani author could actually start writing. She poured out her emotions into her stories and found a sense of inner liberation. She says she wouldn't have turned writer at all if her life would have been a normal one. "Had I lived in a milieu where I could have had boyfriends, gone to dances and had fun, I don't think I would have written. because at certain times in my life, I was going through period of great despair, anguish in a way, it eased me into writing, Writing took me out of a very severe debilitating twitch I used to have," says the writer of books like Ice Candy Man (made into the Aamir Khan starrer Earth 1947) and Water - both by Deepa Mehta, among others. Ved Mehta used his blindness to feed his imagination and write books.

Almost unanimously, each of the writers have had a deep engagement with the socio-political world around them. South African novelist and nobel laureate Nadine Gordimer was an early champion of the anti-apartheid crusade. Many of her novels were banned for long periods, as they dealt with intense political and sexual relations between black and white people. The same holds true for Mahasweta Devi who broke from domestic confines and got fascinated with the life of Rani Jhansi. She produced a book. That in turn took her to the hinterlands, and her various journeys made her conscious of the suffering of marginalised communities. In her fiction, non-fiction and poetry, Mahasweta Devi has relentlessly taken up their issues. Similarly, Guha, Amartya Sen, Khushwant Singh, Mark Tully, Gunter Grass, Patrick Fench - all in various measures been the wellspring of modern intellectual thought.

Another aspect that aspiring writers might take heart from is that writing is not always a spontaneous art. It is arduous and requires a great deal of discipline and dedication. Khushwant Singh talks about how he has never missed a deadline for an article ever. "I get up at 4 am...It's regulated by a stop-watch. I have also learnt how to be ill-mannered. People don't drop in. I don't see them without an appointment,a nd when i invite them it's strictly between 7 and 8. I can be very rude to anyone who stays even a minute after 8," says the journalist/columnist/writer.
Upamanyu Chatterjee (English August, Weight Loss) who balances a high-profile civil service job and his calling as a writer, sets himself a certain number of words a day, or how to resolve an idea or problem in a plot as his target everyday. Kiran Desai 'retreated into a world of almost monastic discipline' for seven years to produce her Booker winner, The Inheritance of Loss.

(Upamanyu Chatterjee)

Others writers included in the book are each unique for what they represent. There's Jaaved Akhtar, Chetan Bhagat, Jeffrey Archer, Imberto Eco, Alexander Mc Call Smith, Ken Follett.


The interviews focus on certain specific books that the authors were writing or had written when the interview was taken, so there's some detailed and illuminating talk on that. Vikram Seth speaks at some length about Two Lives, Suketu Mehta on Maximum City, Dalrymple on Nine Lives and Paul Theroux and Patrick French about their controvercial biographies on V S Naipaul.

Not so long ago, it was only established NRI names who got published in India. But today, with the floodgates opening up, anyone with some writing talent could give a shot at bringing out a book. Naturally, Sethi's book provides valuable cues to aspirants. "Reading, my dear, is the only training for a writer from a young age," says Nadine Gordimer. Theroux's tip is, "Go away. Yes. Leave home, leave your parents and all the comfortable things that hold you back..."

- Nadine Gordimer

Sethi himself is an erudite interviewer with striking introductions for each author. His forward for Dalrymple indicates his own excellent narrative abilties as a writer. By an unexpected chance Seth was acquainted with the British author when he first came to Delhi. Dalrymple didn't have a place to stay and Sethi lent him the barsati in his family house. Recollecting those days Sethi writes about the author who has gone on to make India his second home. "Even then, he was an electrifying presence. Thumping the table over an impromptu dinner, he would pose questions like, 'Do you realise the deposits of history that lie unrecorded, here, in Delhi? or 'Why have stories of this great magical beast called India that has lain on the globe for millennia not been told as they should be? Questions I had to answer after a long day's work. What I remember most of those evenings is our 3 year old daughter becoming hysterical with delight at this large, pink person 'banging on'. She would dissolve into paroxyms of giggles and refuse to go to bed." Now when as I simultaneously read City Of Djinns, that same exuberance and indomitable drive gleam through the pages.
When books are written on books, it's a healthy sign which indicates that there is a growing interest in the subject. One hopes Sunil Sethi's book is a harbinger of that movement.

The Secret Lives Of Somerset Maugham

 Author: Selina Hastings Pages: 550 Published in: 2010


Not a rollicking read, but Selina Hastings' biography on Maugham is balanced, credible and engaging enough

Given that Maugham reveals so much of himself in his works and has given such a vivid description of his childhood, his views on art, love, marriage, life and sundry things, there's only so much more that a biography on him can reveal.

Selina Hastings' work therefore has nothing drastically new to say. But the book picks up with her description of Maugham's stunning professional ascent as a playwright after several years of struggle. She throws light on each of his works, the circumstances surrounding them and the public and critical response they elicited. Selina describes the plot line of most of Maugham's major works with a brief analysis and is spot on most of the time. None of her reading is particularly brillaint or insightful, but it is clearly from someone who has enjoyed studying Maugham.

She of course focusses amply on the author's private life which is what stayed under covers. Most of this is revealed through the letters that Maugham wrote, some of them being to his male lovers. The author, the biography says, distroyed all his private correspondences and even urged his friends to do the same. But his friends were no fools and opportunistically preserved the letters knowing they would fetch them handsome returns. Maugham was a biosexual, and appears to have had many affairs but thankfully Selina maintains a balance, never going overboard with salacious personal information. This despite the title of the book suggesting otherwise. This naturally lends the biography more credibility and if nothing more, it is an excellent chronicle of his life and work.

Her authorial voice is fluid and elegant but also a wee bit too restrained, so that at times the biography tends to drag.  Yet, Selina has one admirable quality. Much like Maugham, Selina is able to see things from multiple persepectives and understands the compulsions under which characters act.  Though Maugham disliked his wife, Syrie, and hated acknowledging her, terming his marriage as a very insignificant detail in his life, Selina is able to view Syrie's predicament and takes an empathetic view of her situation.
 Maugham who enters the marriage  never fully convinced about it soon realises his mistake. He becomes eager than ever to take up long travels with his male companion, Gerald, staying away from home for extended periods. Syrie by now is in love with Maugham and feels despondent and lonely. This results in ugly, loud scenes that unsettles and infuriates the author. The marriage ends in spite of resistance from Syrie and Maugham till the end resents having to shell out big amounts in allimony. This despite the fact that he was otherwise quite generous with money throughout his life. They have a girl child, Lisa and though Maugham is fond of her, he is never particularly close. Selina also suggets that the author might have preferred to have a son. Selina similarly also gives a rounded perspective of the two men in Maugham's life, Gerald Hastings and Alan Searle.

One recurrent theme in the book is of Maugham's increasing wealth and him moving into bigger and lavish homes. Though he belonged to reasonaly well-off parents he was left with very little money when they died. For many years Maugham was forced to live frugally. He was a novelist but money only trickled in at this point. Then almost overnight his career as a playwright took off and Maugham was famous. The cheques flowed with many added zeroes now. Maugham posessed shrewd wisdom with respect to his craft,  and knew best how to satisfy an audience. His set-up was light and entertaining that appealed to the masses, and yet there was a cetain complexity, a dark core he provided to his characters and themes (extra-martial affairs...)so that the thoughful man in the audience too had something to chew on  This meant that Maugham wasn't producing any high art, but he wasn't selling his soul either. What he wrote was perfectly acceptable entertainment. Today the author is remembered for his novels and short stories which is where Maugham's heart always was and he wrote them with unfliching honesty and passion. But it was his plays that brought him his millions.

As money poured in, the author was able to fully devote his time to travel, leisure and writing. Having made so much wealth on the dint of his genuis, Maugham was not only an inspiration for everyone around, he weilded a rare creative and personal power leading life entirely on his own terms.
Maugham of course had an active personal life but that never seems to have interfeared with his writing career which he 'ruthlessly protected.'   He liked stimulating company and sex but his daily schedule where he spent most of his morning hours writing was never disrupted till the end. He entertained guests, enjoyed tea times and dinner but promptly went to bed at a fixed time. It is this discipline to his craft that is inspiring about Maugham's life.

His passion for places and people, combined with his need to be productive and relevant at all times is what prompted him to take up assignments as a British secret agent during World War 1 & 2. Maugham soaked himself in the thrill of new experiences as it was all finally material for writing. He hated dullness and constantly sought change.

What do you take home about Maugham after reading Hastings' biography? For someone with such deep insight into human behaviour and a pragmatic, clever grasp of life,  Maugham's success was expected and most deserved.
His marriage was miscalculated and this was a bitter irony for someone who was so curiously fascinated by marriage and wrote about all kinds of complexities in relationships. But he also believed that it was almost always tipped to fail, only with a slim chance of escaping that fate. Even with that knowledge his marriage was a disaster. The important moral here is that all of us, no matter how intelligent or shrewd are prone to misjudge and make mistakes.

Did his own soured marriage impact his writing? Hard to say because Maugham's stories depicting the doomed nature of love and marriage, like Mrs Craddock, Liza Of Lambath, Merry-Go-Round,   including many of his plays were written before he tied the knot. It is very likely that some of his feelings to do with his vexing marriage may have found an expression in his stories. Selina attempts to draw constant parallels and a few examples do seem to mirror Maugham's thoughts on his marriage. But nothing very substantial.

A gifted story-teller who could enthrall his listeners even as a child, he was clearly born to write. Beyond his complex relationships and conflicted sexuality, Maugham's life essentially speaks of great persevearance, discipline and drive. His constant travel and reading ensured he had a wealth of experience and wisdom from which he drew upon to create unforgettable stories.

Duo On Discovery Path

The husband and wife writer duo, Devapriya Roy and Saurav Jha went backpacking through the length and breadth of India on a daily budget of Rs 500. The couple is currently turning their travel experience into a book called 'The Heat And Dust Project'

The idea of taking off and getting a real taste of India and its people was long lingering in the minds of this bright, young couple. But taking that decision, which meant having to give up their cushy jobs in Delhi, came with its share of anxiety. More than a year ago, the lovely Devapriya Roy, all of 27, wrote her debut novel, 'The Vague Woman's Handbook' , a theme that refreshingly looked at the younger woman-older woman friendship. Much of the story was inspired by Devapriya's own life, especially parts where she describes the bitter-sweet moments of her 'just married' life with her college sweetheart.

Saurav Jha, energy analyst and columnist, she met while studying for her M.Phil in English at JNU, Delhi. Both fell in love as students and promptly got married. They settled in comfortable jobs, with all the trappings of a successful lifestyle. But in a few years, both started to feel weary within the confines of their bourgeois lives. "Since we got married in our early 20s, we also began our domesticity early. All the restlessness that comes with having to buy a house, pay EMIs we had already gone through. And then we tried figuring out what our options were. We could very well stick to our jobs and let it own us. By then our first books got commissioned. That is when we did some serious soul-searching and the 'Heat And Dust Project' was born," says Devapriya.

Now after the couple has travelled for months and covered over 18,000 kms across India, both have taken a break, after which phase two of the journey will begin. The travel was carried out on a tight budget of Rs 500 per day, and this Saurav says was not a "philosophical indulgence" but a "grim economic reality". "But this all too real state of affairs also ensured that we kept our feet on the ground and saw India the way we had always wanted to because there is just no one 'perfect' time to set out on a journey like this. And that motivation i.e to see India as it is, here and now was what prompted us. We set forth looking to ask some questions, find some answers and completely step away from the India of Delhi studio discussions, which frankly speaking have become shambolic echo chambers," he says.

The couple started from Delhi and chose the places on the fly. From Agra to Pushkar to Junagadh to Jaisalmer to Kolhapur and down South to Kerala and Kanyakumari, the travel packed a lot. And if anyone gets a whiff of another touristy adventure here, Devapriya says it was not meant to be so. Which is why the whole journey happened by bus, she says. "Our next destination from anywhere could be chosen on the basis of historical interest, because it was a name that was heard but little explored and of course on the basis of local suggestions. We also bowed in deference to the wishes of some on Facebook," says Saurav.

The Facebook group started as a page on the networking site where Devapriya and Saurav wrote on their travels, giving out funny stories, pictures and confessions while the journey was on. Devapriya, who doesn't always share Saurav's austere habits, says the biggest challenge for her was the long hours in the bus and relentless journey without stopping anywhere for too long. "We were following this Buddhist idea that you must not sleep under the same tree for over a day, as it sprouts roots and holds you back. Just when we would reach a place after hours of a bus journey, I would learn it was time to move on to the next destination. That was tiring, but we were soaking up the sheer excess of the experience. It also unlocked and brought us face to face with many unknown fears, but the travel also came with the sobering thought that no trouble is insurmountable, especially when you see people battling with bigger difficulties, " she says.

Many of the observations will make its way in the book. "There is one India. But there are several ages of India which are terribly intertwined with each other sometimes in harmony and sometimes out of sync," says Saurav.

The couple has some more travelling to do, but the book has been taking some shape meanwhile.Both being writers, they don't quite know who will really pen down the book, but they do know what it will be about. Says Saurav, "It is a travelogue - a funny hysterical sort of a travelogue but it would also engage with various books on India that have been authored by mostly foreign writers in English - from V S Naipaul to Patrick French and William Dalrymple - which attempt to make sense of India. But in addition to being by Indians, it is also meant for Indians, especially, young Indians, if they would care to read it."

Shobha De's Spouse and Surviving Men

 Shobhaa De's latest 'Spouse - the truth about marriage' is a surprisingly tame book on the evergreen subject of Indian family politics. Many years ago she wrote the controversial hot-seller, 'Surviving Men'(1997), an entertaining book with brazen titled chapters like 'How To Hook A Man' , 'How To Dump A Man', 'Is It Possible to Love a Man', 'Men And Their Uses', 'How To Train Men' to others like 'Men at Work', 'Men at Home', 'Men in Bed', 'Men and Their Mothers', 'Men as Buddies' and 'Do Men Have Morals'.

All of these contained De's satiric take on gender-politics. Much of the book is pure fun and meant to shock. There are plenty of dos and don'ts she offers in a careless, flagrant manner, but some things she says do stick.

 "Women desperately want to believe in love, even though it's in an abstract sort of way. Without love,  life loses its meaning and motivation. They want to believe in it so desperately, they'll love anyone or anything - even the world's worst creep, a habitual wife-beater, a Scrooge or an abusive sob. They don't want to stand out in a world teeming with love-sick ladies. They want to conform and be one of the girls. They want a man to hang on to. Men realise this soon enough. And use it to their advantage. They learn to manipulate their women without even trying....It works both ways. Women manipulate men too. As long as this tug-of-war remains at a manageable level, the marriage endures."

To survive men and marriage means to make well-timed, crafty moves in De's world.  

 Within a decade since 'Surviving Men,  the once-divorced De is a changed person.  In 'Spouse -the truth about marriage' the popular columnist-writer is cheerfully married second time, and admittedly has found the marital union to be highly beneficial.  The joys of a large, bustling family with a caring husband and her children give her a wonderful sense of belonging. Which is why, her views have also altered beyond recognition.  Now, 'Spouse' and 'Surviving Men' barely look like books written by the same person. De is the same modern career-woman, but as the years have progressed, she has come to see marriage as a workable, even likable institution. 'No one has come up with anything better anyway," she remarks.

The sense of togetherness that she shares with her spouse is what she enjoys most. A measure of her attraction for her husband is that she finds little meaning in dressing up if he's not around. She mentions an incident when she wore a salvaar-kameez for a function, and Mr De remarked what an unflattering garment it was. "It does nothing for you," he said dismissingly. De immediately rushed to change into a sari, and has not wore a salvaar-kameez since then.
"My friends find this strange...that someone like me should conform to a man's image of how a wife should be. Frankly, their 'surprise' surprises me. I think it is the most natural thing to do. And there's absolutely no shame in it. Reserve your ego battles for something far more important," she writes

When hubby gets back home at 4 pm, De, no matter how occupied, rushes to fix him toast and snacks. Every single day.  Her affection, she feels, is perfectly natural in a marriage which remains her number one comfort zone.

 The book is sincere, and offers sober advice. There is the occasional wit De throws in. 'Carats over carrots" she advises women on domestic wars. Her views and tone on tackling in-laws have also dramatically altered since 'Surviving Men'.  This could well be because De is conscious of turning mother-in-law herself one of these days. She's unusually sympathetic to the senior woman's position here, whereas she had mercilessly lampooned the mom-in-law and mamma's boys in 'Surviving Men' . ( 'Men love their mothers, Men only love their mothers, Men love their mothers only.)

The restrained voice also makes 'Spouse' less interesting. It has little to offer in terms of research and originality, and De could not have spent more than a week writing it. She talks about her own journey of marriage, and uses a few examples of other people she knows.   De is sincere and means what she says, but it's just that the book offers nothing new. In that respect, De is turning into a conventional, practical woman, having understood the joys of joys and benefits of marriage.

It helps that the view comes from someone like her, a celebrity-writer who has always believed in setting trends rather than following them.  She makes an accurate final assessment of the reasons to marry.  "Do not marry because you feel you must, you have to, it's the done thing. Do not marry because you want children but not necessarily marriage. Do not marry for the sake of some imaginary 'security', for none exists. Marry because you want to marry. Because you believe in it. Because you want to share your life with someone you care about. Only then will your marriage survive and thrive."

Collected Short Stories: Vol 4

Pages: 576




Much of what Maugham wrote was always greatly influenced by the numerous travels he made. In the course of his momentous writing career, there were few countries and cities that he did not visit. Yet, by his own admission Maugham found it difficult to open up and talk to the many strangers he encountered during his journeys. At the core he was a shy and introverted man. This, Maugham believed was an unfortunate handicap for a writer. Especially because no one could have been more interested and fascinated than him by the oddities in the men and women he met. Yet, he seemed to have managed rather well, as these experiences provided a rich source material for his stories.

And of course he had his fecund imagination. Maugham has been quoted saying that he could spend an hour with a person and quite comfortably come up with a decent enough story. But not everyone became a subject-matter for the writer, and what Maugham looked for in people was a singularity of character or circumstance.
Though a naturalist, Maugham laid a fair emphasis on making his stories engaging and entertaining and had a natural instinct for drama. Hence all the stories you see in this Volume (as is the case with all his writings), have something extraordinary in them, one way or the other.

As always, Maugham gives a lush description of his characters' physical self, surroundings, background. Often what the characters reveal in the end is an entirely unknown and unlikely facet of their personality. It is this hidden possibility in people that interested Maugham the most. Like a pathologist in a chemical lab, he liked to mix substances in various kind of solutions and watch the reactions that could take place.

These were stories that Maugham wrote during his stay in the Far East (Singapore, Malaysia). The place was under the rule of the British and the period setting is somewhere before WW2. The land at this point is dotted with Englishmen, as consuls, planters, skippers, captain and others. Their lives in the colony, interaction with the local Malay populace forms the subject matter for many of the stories. The steam ships that made travel so much easier in later years and completely altered the Englishman's attitude to his stay in colonies (he saw it as a temporary abode now as opposed to earlier), was yet to come. The long and dry ship journey also forms a significant backdrop to the tales.

This was a time when once an Englishman left for a colony, he spent almost his entire lifetime there. Often he took in a Malay wife as well, though the relation had no legally binding, and many left the woman and children behind (albeit well-provided for) if they did think of going back to England.

The White officers had important positions in the native land with spacious houses and a retinue of servants to do their bidding. This was convenient as well as flattering to the Englishman, many of whom took the posting out of some constraint back home. Suddenly now, they had power and enough money. Where they would have to follow the strictest austerity to make ends meet in England, here they could
almost be counted as rich. Naturally many looked upon with nervousness the prospect of going back to their homes after the end of their tenures. Many just stayed back,since by then they grew so comfortable in the skin of the native atmosphere. In fact, many of them didn't even relish the idea of confronting another White man after all these years.

Every story in Vol 4 is a gem. 'The Outstation' about two White men, a superior and his deputy, and the corroding effect of their mutual hate, is especially brilliant. These two men staying and administering an alien land, far away from their own country, despise each other, as both are offended by the other's peculiar bearing. Warburton, the colonial officer, is widely considered a snob, because he adores aristocracy and replicates the same English habits in the colony. Yet, he is fair and reasonable in his duties, and very fond of the natives. He isn't very thrilled on being told that a White man would be joining him in the district. The anxiety turns into a severe irritation when he meets the man who would be his deputy. Cooper, having heard of Warburton's elitist bearings, is determined not to appear subservient in any way. Believing offence to be the best form of defence, Cooper gets outspoken and rude. Warburton is positively shocked and offended by his junior's words but is keen to appear fair and dignified at all times. Their hatred grows with time with each being consumed with a gnawing anger for the other. Maugham achieves great narrative constancy, and the story is a marvel in character build up.


There's a pattern that starts to emerge with the stories. Just when things appear all hunky dory - and Maugham sadistically builds up an enviable image of felicity - a change in circumstance occurs that upsets the original status quo. It initially causes irritation and finally gives way to a deep seated resentment. From there on things quickly begin to spiral downwards. Repressed anger and despair finally end in a shocking catastrophe.

Appearance v/s reality is also another recurring theme in Maugham's stories. Things are never as they seem, and appearance and bearing often belie a dark, complex and unexpected side. ('Red', 'The Letter')

The other important theme is the impermanence and doomed nature of love and marriage. Infidelity is a running theme in most of the stories. (A Casual Affair, Neil Mac Adam, Episode, A Woman Of Fifty, The Letter, The Back Of The Beyond.)

Many of the stories point to the inherent confusion among humans, where situations are strangely always at odds, This makes men and women fickle, impulsive, and drives them to act in mysterious ways. This is true in Maugham's fiction, as much as it is the case in real life. One wonders if this is the greatest tragedy God inflicted on man where he would never get what he truly desired, and if at all he got it, he would stop desiring the very same thing.

As always, Maugham writes with tremendous skill and heart. The descriptions are slightly more lavish, given that the book is a travelogue of sorts. There are some elegant passages about setting and nature. But Maugham's greatest strength as a writer remains his ability to be lucid, and stick to his point without ever rambling. Every line he writes adds to the cumulative power and impact of these unforgettable stories.

The Dutch Treasure Trove

Renee Ridgway recently unveiled an archival find, a 17th century book on medicinal plants created by the then Dutch governor in Cochin. The event, held at David Hall, Fort Kochi aimed at looking at the fascinating impressions the Dutch left behind





In the 17th century, when the Dutch came to Cochin for trade purposes, and eventually became its rulers, an interesting episode took place.

The then Dutch governor Hendrik van Reede undertook an unexpected and novel project. Probably impressed with the lush verdure around, he grew interested in medicinal plants and collaborated with the local Keralite doctors, botanists, translators and artists to bring out a book on the findings. People were sent far and wide across the state to gather plants. Local doctors would then assess their medicinal properties, after which drawings would be made in water colours. The King of Cochin also helped him in this endevour. It was between 1678-1693 that this 12-volume work, illustrating as many as 700 indigenous plants, was published in Amsterdam.

(Dutch governor to Cochin, Hendrik van Reede)


This is undoubtedly a fascinating piece of archival history. And it is not surprising that 350 years later it should have caught the attention of visual artist Renee Ridgway, a keen student of history. Though a proud American in every sense, Renee was always interested in Dutch colonial history “I grew up in a Dutch colony in the US. Also, it also has something to do with my mixed ancestry,” she says, as we sit for a chat at David Hall on a hot, sweltering day.

She went to Netherlands for her studies, which further helped her understand the Dutch culture and history some more. Some time later Renee was battling with her migraines and sinus problem. No treatment seemed to be working. This is when someone suggested an ayurvedic doctor, Kochi-based Thomas Punnen to her, who was then in Netherlands. She was cured, and this instilled in her tremendous faith about the line of treatment. This reference somehow got her acquainted with Hortus Malabaricus, ‘the book’ that was compiled in the 17th century.

Her passion for history, her faith in traditional Indian medicine, and love for nature (“I worked in a flower shop in Netherlands”)all came together, and Renee decided to get to the heart of the matter. “I had come to India before, but never to Kochi. I knew there was a Dutch settlement here, and it was while I was staying at the Kashi Art Residency at Fort Kochi in 2007, that I became determined to find more about it. David Hall, that has now become a hub for art and food events, was in ruins then," she says. Ironically, this Dutch heritage building is where the entire project was undertaken, says Renee. “There’s good evidence that the project was carried out at David Hall. Where else could it have been?” she says. And now this is the venue for the unveiling of Renee’s own project on Hortus Malabaricus that she along with her filmmaker-friend Rick van Amersfoort undertook.


(A copy of the book, Hortus Malabaricus)

The launch of the book, and an extensive discussion held between Feb 15-22 aims to focus on the cultural exchange that has occurred over the past 350 years on the Mallabar Coast between the Dutch and the local population.

The research also allowed Renee to delve deeper into the Dutch social ethos. "The average Dutch person is a very business-oriented person. Unlike the British or Portuguese, the Dutch did not have any emotional ties with the colonies they ruled. Neither did they aspire to propagate their religion. All they were interested in was trade. They came to Cochin for the spices," she says.


(an illustration from Hortus Malabaricus)

So what could have prompted the then Dutch governor to come up with the project?Renee is reluctant to answer, simply because she would like one to draw inferences from the vast footage of documentary she has gathered. She relents, "I think there were a couple of things. He could have been genuinely interested in the field of plants and medicine. He also found the local population very fit, and perhaps wanted to know how. But the real reason appears to be that he wanted the Dutch soldiers to be healthy, and traditional, local medicines would work out cheaper than procuring it all the way from Netherlands," she says.

The book was more recently translated in English, and is now more accessible to people. “The stunning thing is that the contents of the book have been in circulation one way or the other," she says.

Somerset Maugham's Liza Of Lambeth

Liza Of Lambeth (1897) is perhaps Maugham's only novel which I don't have the heart to revisit. Not because it is poor, but because it is so chillingly tragic. It isn't as if his other novels are all light and sunshine. Maugham in fact always had a great eye for human tragedy and unfailingly took up themes about the impossibility of love and the doomed nature of marriages. Almost every single novel of his has a grim death in it, but nothing is as brutal as what one witnesses in Liza of Lambeth. The graphic violence and the extreme misfortune of the lead character evoke a deep sense of horror.

The book was written by Maugham when he was all of 23. It was his first attempt at writing a novel, and this he did while practising as a doctor. His work took him to the doorsteps of the poor and needy in the slums of Lambeth, and it is his experience and observations here that gave him the material for the book. To his own surprise, the novel was fairly well-received when it was published, and soon Maugham got more offers to write.

The novel is Maugham’s shortest, and also most unlike his other works. Liza of Lambeth appears distinct because it is so removed from the world the author generally sets his stories in ie upper class London. Here, in a ghetto, where the labour class resides, the mood and tenor are vastly altered. Also, a large part of the book comprises of conversations in the local slang, which makes it that much tougher to read. Yet, the story is engaging, and in the end, fans of the author will recogonise many things in the novel that only Maugham could have written.

Liza Kemp is one of the prettiest girls in Lambeth, a veritable lotus in the muck. Her life is not all rosy though, as she works as a labour girl in a local factory and then comes home to a sick, nagging mother who never has a kind word to say to her. Tom is a young, honest man, madly in love with Liza. She, however, only looks upon him as a friend and is repulsed with the idea of romancing him. Her good friend Sally is excited about going on a boat fair with her boyfriend and urges Liza to accompany them. Tom is willing to pay for her, but Liza doesn’t think it appropriate that she should take favours from someone she has no intention of marrying. Tom reassures her that he’s fine even if Liza is not interested for the moment. That instantly cheers Liza, who joins everyone else hoping to have a great time. Another reason for her happiness is the presence of Jim Blackeston, a handsome man who has recently come to stay in her neighbourhood. Jim is married with an imposing looking woman and three children. Liza feels an instant attraction towards him, and the feeling is reciprocated. Ignoring Tom, Liza tries her best to be around Jim. This angers Tom, while Jim’s wife, probably too preoccupied in other domestic thoughts doesn’t notice much. The attraction grows into a full-fledged affair and slowly tongues start wagging. Jim talks about deserting his wife, whom he says he cannot stand.

The situation starts to get messy as the women-folk refuse to take kindly to the affair. They naturally sympathise with the wife and see Liza as a callous husband stealer. When Jim’s wife senses that her husband might be leaving her for good, she unleashes her anger on Liza, giving her a fatal beating in full public view. The scene is grotesque, but it is just the kind of violence one would expect in such a place.

Jim Blackeston is pained by Liza’s death, and in anger beats up his wife. But there is every indication that he would go back to his same shoddy life and forget about the chapter with time. Liza’s mother is more concerned that she would have no one to look after her henceforth. Liza is a picture of such youthful exuberance and optimism in the novel that the reader feels an intense sadness at her life being snuffed out with such brutality. One of earliest scenes in the book has Liza exultantly walking down the street, like a diva. She stirs up a sensation and the men nearly faint with excitement. To then see her beaten black and blue on the same crowded street with no one coming forward to help in the climax leaves you with a feeling of cold disgust.

For its striking differences with Maugham’s others work, the novel still has all of his favourite themes – the mundane pattern into which marriages invariably slip into, and the all-consuming power of passion that makes individuals blind to its risks and short-comings. And Maugham since the very start seemed to understand that for many, ‘the important thing was to love rather than be loved’ Like in his other novels, here too Liza can very well go for a respectable match by way of Tom. But she simply is not drawn and cannot help it. This is a recurrent theme in almost all of the author’s books – the inability to love what is gettable, and an idealisation of a potentially destructive relationship.

Again, the disillusionment of marriage, a recurrent theme in Maugham’s oeuvre, finds a distinct voice in Liza of Lambeth too.
Jim Blackeston’s marriage has slipped into dull, domestic monotony, which is why it doesn’t take him long to fall for a younger woman.
Contrasting Liza's uncertain, desperate state is her friend Sally, who is smug and happy with her relationship and is all set for conjugal bliss. But as usual, Maugham builds a perfect apple cart only to upset it. Post marriage, Liza discovers that Sally’s husband beats her up regularly, and that all traces of love had evaporated. Sally though is too proud to admit this.

Even though the book is too grim for me, I don’t see it lacking in merits. The story is engaging, the conversations are credible, and the situations unfold with perfect plausibility. Importantly, it reveals that Maugham’s ideas about love and marriage – the two central themes of his novels – remained more or less unchanged till the very end.

Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed

Haven't we all at some point typed  an intimate question on Google search for user responses.  This mini research offers you perspective and the assurance that you are not alone in it.  It also gives you some validation for your point of view.

Elizabeth Gilbert, in writing, 'Committed' was clearly going through a similar anxiety. Her last book, 'Eat Pray And Love' had yet to become a best-seller, and the 38-year-old was in a hopeless, new predicament. To marry or not to marry.

It is through this confusion that her memoir was born.  Not convinced about marriage, and yet seeing no way out of it, Gilbert goes on a journey of exploration into the institution of marriage.  In her travels to places, she chats up people from communities who lead lives and hold opinions very unlike her own. She scans through books on marriage, goes through handy research on the topic, all the while drawing parallels with her own life;  an impulsive first marriage, a string of failed relationships and now a dilemma about marrying again. What you get in the end is a book that is both absorbing and insightful.

Gilbert's scepticism about marriage is genuine and you can literally feel her grappling for answers and reassurance through the 280 odd pages of this long book.

She is happy to be with her current boyfriend, Filipe, a Brazilian-born man of Australian citizenship and even more happier about their arrangement. Neither wants marriage, as both are happy leading their separate lives in different continents, and meeting each other every month. Both have been scarred by earlier divorces. Gilbert is particularly worried about being financially vulnerable if she opts for marriage. As a single woman who makes her own money, she is extra cautious this time. Most importantly, Gilbert is unsure about herself, given her predilection for disastrous romantic entanglements.

She loves the companionship and affection in her current relationship. Both see their bond as a permanent thing and yet Gilbert is not enamoured enough by it to consider marriage. She has no desire for kids, and as a woman living in a Western world, singlehood is no big deal. So why marry at all, she asks.

The plan get upturned when Felipe's constant travel to US evokes suspicion and he faces threat of being deported. They must either marry and stay in US or then be singles, but face other relationship challenges. They decide to get married but Gilbert is filled with doubts.

While reading this book, I kept getting the feeling that Gilbert is just not that into her boyfriend. I may be wrong here, but many times in the course of the book I felt Gilbert was trying to justify her soon-to-happen marriage, in the hope of seeing  her relationship as viable. She gives many reasons for her anxiousness, and even admits that she is not madly in love with Felipe and thank god for that, she says. She is balanced and alert this time, which is perhaps why she fine combs every aspect of the relationship. But at the end of it, I wasn't sure if that sort of moderate approach also works with everyone.  Gilbert is right that infatuation does not last. Certainly the hormonal rush and exhilaration brought are bound to subside, and one ought to be realistic about it. Familiarity, at its worst, breeds contempt, and at its best cultivates affection.  But when one enters a union like marriage, conviction is a must.

Falling in love does not always imply recklessness. Yes, one tends to overlook a few things perhaps, but one still looks out for many enduring qualities (Pride and Prejudice?). This then translates into attraction and when couples instinctively feel it's the right relationship for them, they take the plunge quite happily.  The important thing is belief that it will work. Of course nothing can be said about the future, but to my mind there is nothing riskier than treating marriage like a 'sentence' which is the word Gilbert uses for her relationship. She is filled with doubts and most will agree that it happens when you are simply not sure if he's your man. It's not the marriage at all.

Anyway, so thus she begins her research project on marriage, its history, its cultural meaning and significance that differ from community to community. She also looks at marriage of the past and present, comparing her perspective with that of her mother. She looks at the roots of marriage, and is surprised that an institution which is considered sacrosanct today, was something which custodians of religion were opposed to. They wanted people to reject it and adopt celibacy. That never happened of course, and no matter what stand the State or religious body took, men and women always have felt a natural inclination to come together and marry. Which establishes that men and women have always held the desire to get married.

 Gilbert's narration is seamless as she talks about her own relationships and attempts to seek answers on larger questions about marriage. One chapter that is especially illuminating is Marriage And Infatuation. There is the oft repeated view that while marriages in the past endured many a storm,  they now fall apart for the flimsiest of reasons.
Gilbert using research findings and expert opinions brings forth some perceptive ideas. In most cultures, she says, women rarely questioned marriage. They accepted their fate and role. But with industrialization and the breaking up of the joint family system, the 'individual' suddenly came into focus and his/her private desires took precedence. Now, couples didn't necessarily marry because the spouse was 'beneficial' to the family as a whole or a convenient arrangement to all, but because they fell in love. Gilbert rightly points out that when a marriage is based on love and not on a collective arrangement, it has more chances to fail - precisely because love, she says, is a very fragile emotion. What if you fall out of love? Which is why modern couples are divorcing more than ever before, and she says the institution itself is under tremendous pressure.

Yet, Gilbert says she wouldn't trade her life as a modern, educated, self-aware American woman of today with any woman in a previous time and culture who had a conditioned idea of marriage. Nor does she believe that people must not marry for love. But she points out that one must be equipped with sufficient tools to deal with practical and emotional problems before they get into it.

That is precisely what Gilbert decides to do this time with her beau. She says she is thankfully not infatuated this time. She loves the narcotic high of love, but is happy not to go through it again. She is on as more emotionally secure and saner ground this time, and both, she and Felipe discuss in some detail about dodging the potential landmines in their future marital relationship.

I really liked a chapter where Gilbert talks about the possibility of one's perfectly nice spouse falling for someone else.  "History teaches us that just about anybody is capable of just about anything when it comes to the realm of love and desire. Circumstances arises in all our lives that challenge our most stubborn loyalties. Maybe this is what we fear most when we enter into marriage. - that "circumstances," in the form of some uncontrollable outside passion, will someday break the bond."

One might think that this is an unavoidable situation, but Gilbert finds that it is not so! Regretting that she did not have this wisdom when she got married at 25, she notes how couples can drastically reduce such a risk of infatuation by containing the situation early on.  One makes friends with a member of the opposite sex, and it is all harmless for a while. But somewhere an intimacy creeps in and one reveals more than one ought to and this is by default becomes a breach of marital trust. Soon, this gets emotionally complicated.  Gilbert feels that with some clear-sightedness and responsible behaviour, this risk can be drastically minimised.

She takes you through the bumps and jerks in her own relationship with Felipe, describing moments that infuriate and frustrate her. Yet, she offers a reason for sticking it out in a relationship. "He was a good man, in the end."

There might be a few readers (read men) who will chuck this book in irritation, unable to understand Gilbert's complex, over-analysing mind.

But most women will like the book and will appreciate the candour and honesty . The writing is fluid and extremely readable. Gilbert is witty, entertaining and wields a formidable pen.  And yes it is time well-spent.

R K Narayan's The Dark Room and The World Of Nagaraj

Very few readers will dispute the talent that R K Narayan was. He was the first Indian writer in English to acquire such a name for himself both among native as well as foreigner readers.
V. S Naipaul has written how his image of India was entirely shaped by reading R K Narayan's books and all that happens in Malgudi, the fictional small-town in South India that the author set his stories in. His tales came with a parochial delight, yet encompassed a world of human emotions and characters. This was enchanting as much as it was universal in appeal.
Still, every now and then one hears of a not-so-flattering comment about Narayan's prose. At times it cannot be completely dismissed as it comes from say a Shashi Tharoor who in his wonderful book on his literary passions, Bookless In Baghdad writes candidly about Narayan's weaknesses calling his style 'flat and monotonous'
Tharoor writes, "Some of my friends felt I was wrong to focus on language – a writerly concern - and lose sight of the stories, which in many ways had an appeal that transcended language. But my point was that such pedestrian writing diminished Narayan's stories, undermined the characters, trivialised their concerns."

Narayan's writing had its flaws, and within his own ouevre some were more successfully executed than the others .  The Dark Room (1938) and The World Of Nagaraj (1990) are an example of that. Both have plots that draw you in, but each vastly differ in the manner in which they are written. The Dark Room has a poignant theme, but Narayan struggles with the writing and is unable to etch out the deeper nunances inherent in the story. Tharoor's criticism is quite right here.
 Nagaraj...on the other hand is the work of an accomplished genius. It's not the plot, but the character that drives the story and here Narayan shows tremendous writerly gifts.

The Dark Room is about a dominant, excessively critical and self-centered husband, Ramani living with his wife Savitri and three children. The first scene sees him criticising everything that his wife serves him on the table. He curses the cook and freely taunts his wife. At work, he takes more than a little fancy to a junior called Shanta Bai. She is pretty and recently separated from her husband. Ramani is taken in by her charms and goes out of his way to help her out, including vacating a spare room in the office and even making his wife give away some of their furniture to make Shanta comfortable. On the way from his golf club, he regularly starts spending time at her room, and sits entranced listening to her.

When Savitri hears of it she is unable to bear the humiliation . She confronts her husband who dismisses her objections. Desolate at being taken so entirely for granted she raises her voice and then is determined to leave the house. She wants to take the kids along, but Ramani stops her harshly. “Don't touch them or talk to them. Go yourself, if you want. They are my children," he shouts.

The blatant disregard shown by her callous husband causes such depression in her heart that she wanders alone in the street and even plunges herself in the river. But overcome by fear, she shouts out for help. A blacksmith by day and burglar by night saves her. He brings along his wife, Ponni who tries to befriend Savitri. She offers her shelter and food. But such a madness seizes Savitri that she refuses to eat anything not earned by herself. She is disgusted at being at the mercy of the men in her life – father, brother, husband. She gets so obstinate about not taking any more charity from anyone that she starts working at a temple as a cleaner for a cantankerous priest. But in a day she realises the impracticality of her choice and returns home, though a part of her is dead now. Ramani is relieved to find her back, less for her sake, and more to keep up social pretenses.

 Narayan's sympathies are with Savitri though he resists from make a grand feminist statement. She leaves the house for valid reasons, but reconciles and comes back. Narayan, above all, much in the vein of say a Jane Austen was a realist and understood the limitations of people in their context and worlds. Narayan's characters rebel against a traditional and regressive society. Earlier in Bachelor Of Arts, the young protagonist is sickened at his inability to get the girl he wants and turns a monk for a while. But quickly realising the narrowness of his world, comes back into the mainstream.

In The Dark Room, Narayan quite clearly feels a deep anguish at the wife being treated shabbily and leaves no opportunity to portray the ugliness and selfishness of the husband's character.

The book is less of a novel and more of a novella. Narayan is effective in his portrayal of Ramani, a vain, sarcastic, self-serving man. Also, the part where Savitri leaves and encounters a different world is poignant, but the book as a whole has a few weaknesses. It is not as lush in its narrative, the story runs rather quickly, and doesn't delve too much into the complexities. Ramani's fling with his junior is awkwardly handled, perhaps because Narayan was writing about an episode he may not have experienced or seen first hand. The 'other' woman's character also remains shadowy.



None of those problems are there in The World Of Nagaraj, which is an unqualified classic. It could be because it was written in Narayan's later years, and the narrative has a fluency and depth that is quite amazing.
Since I read both books back-to-back, I felt an instant difference reading ...Nagaraj. One's reading pace is automatically slowed, as you try to absorb the atmospherics and the dense description of the leading character. The book is about a simple-minded, pleasant man, living with his wife, Sita and mother in a rather grand ancestral house called Kabir Street. He loves day-dreaming and talks a great deal to himself. His life's ambition is to be a thesis on sage Narada. Humble and affable, Nagaraj has no worries until his nephew Krishnaji, referred to as 'Tim' comes to stay with him. Narayan - through a series of flashbacks gives a vivid picture of the family characters. Gopi, the elder brother is aggressive and dominating. Until their father is alive and they all stayed together, Gopi took the best room, where he and his wife would stay locked in. The wife would cook savouries in limited portions and take them directly to their room. When the will is read out, Gopi asks for the farm house and lands in the village. This suits Nagaraj who prefers having the house in Malgudi.

Sharp-tongued and abrasive, Gopi looks at his younger brother as a bit of a fool, and openly insults him for his dull replies. Nagaraj being supremely unassertive, takes many of his brother's put-downs as a joke, trying to maintain a semblance of cheerful normalcy.

The entire book brings out the predicament of a man who cannot stand up for himself and confront situations. There is a scene in the novel where Tim and his wife have come to permanently stay in Nagaraj's house. This is the time when the latter has finally decided to get serious about his theses on Narada but Tim's wife is in the habit of playing the harmonium in the mornings and this is a source of intense irritation to Nagaraj. His impulse once prompts him to bang against her door and ask her to shut up. But he weakly smiles and walks away when she actually opens the door.

Narayan's point seems to be that it is human nature to take for a ride, and be insensitive to the needs of those who don't stand up for themselves. A complete lack of ego or pride is viewed as a grave weakness by others and the obvious response is to take the person for granted. Nagaraj's nervous reactions are both amusing and frustrating to watch. You want him to give up his meekness and take on his supercilious brother for once. The ending is poignant, and perhaps even sadder than The Dark Room.

But both novels leave you with a feeling of exultation as they give a wonderful psychological insight into human character and throb with a natural goodness so unique to R K Narayan's works.

Priya - Namita Gokhale

Author: Namita Gokhale
Pages: 195
Price: 350
Publishers: Penguin




This is the first book I took up to review by Namita Gokhale, better recogonised as the co-director of the highly popular Jaipur lit fest. She's written 10 books already - which I had no idea about.

You see the book’s inane title and cover design and wonder if the rest of the book is going to be as unimaginative. Its tag line below further reads -'In Incredible Indyaa' - an obvious smart-alecky attempt taking a dig at the socialite obsession with numerology. The author tries hard to satarise a certain class of people with their pretentions and superficial airs -the irony though is that the novel itself feels impossibly artificial and snooty.

The characters are not fleshed out and come across as obnoxious caricatures. Also, the author's own personality seems to pervade heavily on the way these people speak. The result is not pleasant. The men don't sound like men. For example, the 45 something protagonist’s teenager son speaks dialogues such as these, “ Honest! That’s what her feminist-sheminist mother said. And her father got really upset, he even tried phoning Pitaji. He didn’t get through - all the PAs and secretaries saw to that. And then I sort of surrendered, and agreed to marry Monalisa. Her parents got uber excited. I think they had dreams of Band Baja Ghodi and Disco Bhangra and all that! Or Some Bengali fancy-dress tamasha”
Phew!

Gokhale's latest is a sequel of sorts to the her earlier novel titled Paro, about a free-spirited, promiscuous woman. Priya has a presence in that book too. She is the more timid, staid one. She grows up as a middle-class girl in Mumbai, marries Suresh Kaushal, who in an unexpected windfall turns into a successful minister at the centre. This change in fortune is quite sudden and Priya’s lifestyle transforms overnight. She suddenly finds herself in the midst of political and Page 3 glitterati and has new 'challenges' to face every day.
She has twin sons, Luv and Kush. Luv is more artistically inclined while Kush is the more pragmatic one with aspirations of following his father’s political footsteps.

But these characters are etched with no subtlety at all. What should have been conveyed in the narration with crafty irony is done blatantly with tasteless dialogues. For example, the author wants to assert Kush’s clinical approach to things. So when he gets a marriage proposal he meets the girl and discusses her on the breakfast table next day with his parents. He announces,“I’ve assessed the Sethia chick...It’s like a merger or an amalgamation. One has to study the fundamentals."
This is plain nasty writing and one would be hard-pressed to find anyone talking like that. The approach may be a reflection of Delhi’s opportunistic and mercenary culture, but the dialogues do the narration in completely.

You have the husband Suresh having extra-marital affairs. Priya herself has an old flame whom she goes gallivanting with. There’s a Page 3 social climber type thrown in who talks about Botox and refers to Priya as Mrs Menopause. There is a ridiculous story about Luv and his love entanglements. Then just like that Kush turns out to be gay as well, and Priya is most sanguine about it. All this is laughably amateurish.

The novel's narration is in Priya's voice, but her character never really emerges in any sense. You never enter her head. Also, there are too many purple patches with needless adjectives thrown in. The author has the annoying habit of inserting all kind of Hindi words like ajeeb and adla badla as well. There's only one time when I thought a Hindi expression is well-used. 'Yaari-type hug' - I thought that captures a scene in an instant.

However, the entire book has a vein of artificiality running through it with shrill coincidences and poor plot-construct and characterisation.

The book has a few lines that are well written here and there - somewhere Suresh talks about India being a serpent with its hood being in the 21st century and tail still being in the dark ages. Also, some of the author's comments on Delhi's opportunistic culture and its obsession for private shorthand is interesting. The book is ambitious to the extent that Gokhale tries to etch out a novel driven entirely by atmospherics. Unfortunately, she's not upto the task.

The theme of retribution in Delhi Belly

The fact that this Akshat Varma penned script, stylishly directed by Abhinay Deo is a tightly-woven, smartly executed one is something all reviews have agreed. Varma – probably on account of having studied script-writing abroad – follows one of the essential rules of filmmaking – not to waste details. Every scene and reference in small or big ways adds to the development of the film – sooner or later. The story by itself is not novel, but it is this adherence to a simple scripting rule that makes this mad-cap, irreverent flick seem instantly fresh and unusual from the run-of-the-mill Hindi-film experience.

But I come to a different point about Delhi Belly. This is not a film that is particularly bothered about appearing intellectual and profound – it is happy to be a dark, wicked comic thriller. And yet, I felt the film is very strong on subliminals. It’s not like the writer is necessarily aiming for it, but I detected a strong theme of retribution in Varma’s work.


Retribution is the idea of justice. You are punished for what you do wrong and rewarded what you do right. The three guys in the film (Imran, Vir, Kunal) stay in a dump, leading the most wretched, lazy, indifferent life. This is not uncommon with bachelors, but the writer recogonises that his protagonists need to wake up and gives them the jolt of their life. The film picks them up and throws them in the deep end of the sea, and challenges them to find a way out now. The fact that Varma has some affection for his protagonists goes without saying. These are well-meaning, decent chaps. But he raises a storm – makes everything go wrong for them – until they take stock of their life – a coming-of-age of sorts. They are rewarded in the end. Imran gets the girl he wants, and the three of them get to keep the pickings.

This is the overarching retribution theme, but it works in every aspect of the film’s development. The writer takes no high moral ground anywhere, but there a subtle sense of poetic justice embedded into his script. Portly Nitin freely ogles at an actress, takes her photos from ‘those’ angles. His next stop is to a brothel where he could be a regular. The boob-press scene shows he enjoys some familiarity around. Today he is on business. His intent? To take pictures of his landlord (for all outward appearances a working-class, respectable man) in compromising positions with a prostitute. Nitin finds a simple blackmail the best immediate option for their rent woes. The writer sets up these things in such a way that you can’t help feel that Nitin is probably getting his just desserts. He suffers a horrible stomach upset that embarrasses him throughout the film. Nitin’s ordeal might be funny to the audience, but it’s never once a laughing matter to anyone in the film itself. His smug expression at the start of the film is soon replaced by a helpless, jolted one.

The writer derives fun out of Nitin’s uncomfortable state, and also from the landlord’s, who gets a caustic tongue-lashing from his police inspector bro. Both get away in the end, because of a certain good act by them. Nitin stands by Tashi in his hour of need, and is clever – so he deserves the money he gets. Comically, the landlord – having no clue that Nitin is behind the blackmailing – like a helpful neighbour takes him to the clinic for his check-up. Naturally, this goodness melts Nitin’s heart, and once his own troubles are over, he wastes no time in sending the landlord an anonymous letter asking him to forget about the photos. “Lead a happy life’ it says. This is one of the most heart-warming scenes in the film, because this is the first kindly emotion the writer allows you to feel in this otherwise chaotic, crazed, messed up world.

The retribution theme takes full force with the character of Vir Das (Arup) who is ditched by his girl friend. Cinematically, he is allowed a grand revenge with Jaa Chudail, even though the story cannot follow the girl in question.
Sonia (Shenaz Treasurywala ) pays for her dumbness with humiliation at the hands of the gangster (Raaz). But to Akshat’s credit – and this would have seemed very sexist and unacceptable otherwise – he is not entirely callous with her character. Rightly, she slaps Tashi hard, in full view of others for ditching her. In the last scene Nitin wonders whether he can start dating her if Taashi is not seeing her anymore. “She’s hot!’ he says. So Sonia’s feminine graces are allowed to be kept.

The jeweller loses his money because he was a cheat. The most splendid character of the film Vijay Raaz – who the writer etches with great delight – has to die for not letting off his protagonist after he recovers his diamonds. But he’s not casually disposed off like a cheap villain. There is a cinematic grandness to his death as the shot hits his forehead and the blood drops in slow motion. Here was no ordinary man, the writer seems to say.