Aditya Kripalani
Judging by the date of publishing, this is probably the prequel to the school of writing (not genre, but language skills) that has one Mr.Tripathi as its patron saint now. The word skills are right up there – my favourite would have to be “help her bare the night” which, in the context of dance bars, was unintentionally very funny. There were enough bloopers around to indicate that the above was not clever wordplay.
The plot itself is fairly predictable except for patches, and the pace makes it bearable. The characters are uni-dimensional, though on a few occasions, they get out of their skin and go roaming randomly. The language is Marathinglish, and it’s possible you might pick up a few non-English phrases by the time you finish the book.
The good thing about the book is Bombay itself, as the author successfully captures the city’s flavours through his characters. The ex-bar dancer forced into prostitution, the migrant who becomes a driver by chance, the repressed housewife who decides to break free one day, the producer’s son and his underworld connections, are all stereotypes, but through them, the author gives life to the city.
The narrative pace ensures that boredom doesn’t set in, so if you really have nothing else that you want to pay attention to, go ahead and read away.
