Category: Fiction

  • Ruler of the World (Empire of the Moghul, #3)

    Alex Rutherford 

    The third in Alex Rutherford’s ‘Empire of the Moghul’, and the one that focuses on the greatest Mughal of them all – Jalal-ud-Din Muhammad Akbar. The first Mughal to be born in Hindustan (technically Pakistan now) and crowned emperor at the age of 13 on the death of his father Humayun.

    His early years were lived in the shadow of his trusted advisor Bairam Khan, who as time went on, Akbar began to resent. This was probably the first of Akbar’s failed close relationships – a theme that comes out in the book quite clearly. Except for his mother, and his aunt, Akbar’s relationships – be it with his milk mother and brother, sons, wives were cordial at best. His early experiences made it difficult for him to trust people, but that did not deter him from creating an empire that stood the test of time, and gaining the respect and admiration of his subjects. The only exception to this mistrust was Abul Fazl, who though has been shown in a slightly negative light himself, should be thanked for elaborately chronicling the details of everything that happened in Akbar’s life. This assumes greater importance because it was an important period in India’s history, in terms of trade, relations with neighbours, Christian missionaries arriving in India and so on.

    Indeed, it was probably due to Abul Fazl that Akbar’s relationship with his eldest son Salim became as strained as it did. The book explores this relationship between father and son quite well. Feuds between brothers had been common in Mughal succession, but in this case, Salim felt his father was blocking him from inheriting what was rightfully his. It was only thanks to his grandmother Hamida – Akbar’s mother – that things were always settled amicably.

    Though displaying several vices, Salim is shown to rise above them, many a time thanks to Suleiman Beg, his close friend, but forever feels let down by his father – a mutual feeling. This would probably prove to be a hereditary curse as the end of the book shows a strained relationship between Jahangir (the name Salim adopts) and his son Khusrau.

    The book focuses as much on Salim as Akbar himself. In fact, the military, political, administrative and other contributions that Akbar made have been underplayed a bit. Towards the end, Salim’s frustrations and Akbar’s mismanagement of his son cause many more fissures – the Anarkali episode, rebellion etc.

    It also captures Akbar as a person – his failings as a father, a hint of megalomania especially when he goes on to start his own faith, his illiteracy, in addition to his sense of justice and fairness, his readiness to work alongside labourers, his love for his grandsons and so on.

    I liked this book more than its predecessors, because though it probably doesn’t do justice to the greatness of Akbar as much as I’d have liked it to, (the author does note that he has omitted events and timescales) the narrative is gripping and never falters.

  • Window Seat

    Janhavi Acharekar 

    There couldn’t have been a more apt title for the book than ‘Window Seat’. If you were told that most of the characters in the book are people you happened to see from a window seat while traveling within a metro, chances are that you’d probably believe it.

    The book consists of 30 stories, and though the blurb would have you believe that it’s mostly Mumbai-centric, it’s only in Part 2 that the city actually becomes a veritable character. The first part, with 20 stories, wins you over with the simplicity in narration, and the tales themselves. Stories and characters I could identify with, regardless of their ethnicity, connected only by the humanness. The author’s ease with Malayalam (thanks to the husband) and the subtle use of Bengali in ‘China’ is worth a mention. The copywriting skills come to the fore in several anecdotes and witticisms, which add to the characters.

    The amazing part is that each story in the first part is completely different from each other – not just in terms of settings (slum, advertising agency, Kerala, Banaras, Goa….) and characters, (from a newspaper vendor to a ‘freedom fighter’) but also in the way each story is made to work (for me) – a twist in the end, melancholy, subtle wordplay, events that one can identify, humour, nostalgia, the human emotions portrayed and so on. Each card is a different trick. Several stories are rich with layers, a few words here and there that speaks volumes about the character. Each story has something that I could connect with. I could go on and on about the characters, but I wouldn’t want to spoil your experience. It’s better you meet them yourself. 🙂

    The second part has 3 sections, each with a setting that’s probably quintessentially Bombay – the local train, a beauty salon, and a Page 3 crowd. (featuring the epic Rajkumar song “If you come today, it’s too early”) The stories within each section are connected. I liked this a little lesser than the first part. It almost seemed that the author wrote this as a preparation.

    This one goes into my favourites list – not just because of the stories themselves, but also for the craft that’s displayed superbly in the telling of each story. Must-read!

  • Evening Is the Whole Day

    Preeta Samarasan

    Preeta Samarasan’s debut novel begins with the kind of prose that actually seems like poetry in disguise – with a description of a part of Malaysian geography. The narrative begins in 1980, on Kingfisher Lane in Ipoh, in the Big House, owned by the Rajasekharans – Raju (Appa) a leading lawyer and a pillar of the community, erstwhile socialist; Vasanthi, his wife, from circumstances far below his; their children Uma, Suresh and Aasha in that order; Paati, the matriarch whose disapproval of her daughter-in-law endures time, and the servant girl Chellam brought in to take care of her. A wealthy, dysfunctional family, with each member fighting their own demons.

    We see a lot of the story through Aasha’s eyes in the beginning. Aasha, who talks to ghosts and will do anything to get back the affections of Uma. Uma, whose sole desire is to escape to the US. And in between, Suresh, who tries to make sense of the world with humour. The narrative then sets out to unravel layer by layer, not just digging deeper into what happened earlier, but also wider, giving the reader, through characters and events, a view of Malayan society, with its own undercurrents, ethnicity issues and rules that attempt harmony between the Chinese, Indians and the natives. A brief glimpse of a country coming to terms with its freedom, and the responsibilities therein.

    As the layers unfold, the perceptions of characters and their behaviour that the reader has built up slowly begin to undergo changes, as the past – from a few days earlier to half a lifetime away – shows its influence on the present and future. We also see how the relationships between people change with time, sometimes over years and sometimes in a few minutes. There are some very interesting secondary characters too, like Uncle Ballroom who evokes a sense of poignancy, Vasanthi’s mother whose sudden turn to asceticism makes you wonder about the nature of the human psyche, or Kooky Rooky, whose variations of her own past points us to stories that we build for ourselves. And then there’s Chellam, whose past, and lack of future brings a lump to the throat.

    Somewhere in the book and its use of words and the wit employed (brotheROARsister, Stopping At Nothing…) I could see Arundhati Roy. Somewhere in the way the human condition is expressed I could see Kiran Desai. But neither takes away from a distinctive style – vivid prose, edgy humour, and an ability to draw the reader right in. This one goes into my favourites.

  • The Small House

    Timeri N. Murari 

    The Small House, in terms of name as well as the overarching premise of the book is based on a socially accepted norm in Tamil Nadu – the ‘chinnaveedu’, where the husband houses his mistress. Though the back cover blurb would indicate that the novel is about two friends, both of whose spouses they suspect to be straying, the focus is very much on Roopmati Malhotra than her friend Tazneem.

    Roopmati, the sole surviving heir of the Krishnarangam royals, is shown as a history-obsessed character who is only mildly curious about her husband’s infidelity. She is convinced that she only represents a trophy for her husband, a suave businessman, who finds solace in the arms of Maya, a television anchor. On the other hand, Tazneem, an art filmmaker finds it difficult to handle the fact that her husband is cheating on her, and that he is a bisexual.

    Many narratives make up the novel. Roopmati’s conversations with her (almost) namesake and confidante Rupmati, a historical character who charmed Sultan Baz Bahadur and finally swallowed poison when she was captured. Her relationship with her dead brother Tommy, who supposedly drowned much earlier. Though friends, the two characters’ situations do offer contrast. While Tazneem’s marriage was her own choice (though she is still close to her father to whom she turns to for comfort), Roopmati’s seems almost like Khris bought her from her father, who died later. The author also unfolds layers from the perspectives of different characters as the story moves forward. This gives the reader a peek into why they are the way they are, but sometimes these narratives are like a cul de sac, with abrupt endings that force the author and the reader to pick up the thread from a principal character.

    In the end, it almost seems like the author was in a hurry to close the loose ends, and as a reader, I was forced to wonder whether many characters suffered from a compromised ‘end’ that has the author hinting that one must make peace with the past and choices made, and move on. I also wondered why the Rupmati character existed, unless it was a ploy to make the reader imagine a different ending. But the book has a fair share of things that make it a good read – the author’s keen eye for detail, especially of society and its players, manifests itself in the manner in which he has built and portrayed his characters – there are subtle traits that one can easily identify in all the characters, especially the supporting ones. Brief glimpses of Chennai also show the author’s interest in history. The pace is good and there are many nuanced conversations – between Khris and Roopmati’s father, Roopmati and Rupmati that offer food for thought. In essence, not stellar, but worth a read.

  • Holmes Of The Raj

    Vithal Rajan 

    Similar to the other Holmes fan fiction I read earlier, (The Curious case of 221B –http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/…) this book is also set up on the premise of the author receiving hitherto forgotten papers of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

    The setting is late 19th century India, a crucial arena where ‘The Great Game’ was being played out. Holmes and Watson get involved in 5 cases set in various parts of India – Madras, Hyderabad, Delhi, Bombay, Nainital to name a few, and then return 25 years later for a swansong adventure. What is interesting about the book is the way the author weaves in historical characters and events, and shows a different perspective to discoveries and personalities associated with them – Ronald Ross, Ramanujan, to name a couple. And it’s not just science, but literature (Kipling, his character Kim and another that would serve an inspiration for Mowgli; Rabindranath Tagore) and sports (Dhyan Chand). The same trend continues for political events too, with Motilal Nehru, Lala Lajpat Rai, Lord Ripon all featuring in various storylines.

    What didn’t work for me was the narration and mystery moving away from the original Holmes adventures. Very often, the focus is on how Holmes and Watson had played crucial parts in actual historical events, and many a time, these seem a laboured fit. The book concentrates more on the cultural and political aspects of the colonial rule (with the Notes section providing enough evidence that the author has done a lot of homework) and tries to draw our attention to the kind of thinking and behaviour that laid the framework for everything that has happened since. Unfortunately, that means that Holmes and Watson are relegated to being props in a larger canvas. So, it would be good to set your expectations clearly before you start out. This is a commentary, and a very interesting one, on the socio-cultural ethos of the Raj. Regard Holmes and Watson as just another couple of characters, and you’ll do just fine.