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Journeying into the shadowlands beyond sanity – and the consequences (Book Review)

Journeying into the shadowlands beyond sanity – and the consequences (Book Review)

Missing, Presumed DeadBy Vikas Datta,

Title: Missing, Presumed Dead; Author: Kiran Manral; Publisher: Amaryllis Books; Pages: 268; Price: Rs 350

With all the duplicity, self-interest, hidden motives and betrayals — both big and small — we face in our lives, the thin line separating us from insanity can be closer than we know, and may not need a chemical imbalance or genetic inheritance to cross. And once transgressed, the fallout may rarely remain confined to the victim.

Given the complex set of relations — family, friendly and professional — our contemporary selves have, the consequences of psychological disorders may spread their disruptive ripples much further than we can imagine: Among those waiting to derive benefit from it, and those whose entire world unravels irredeemably.

These are motifs that form the unsettling backdrop of the latest novel by the irrepressibly imaginative Kiran Manral, who, after the urban second-chance romance of “Saving Maya”, returns to the familiar geographical setting of isolated and subtly menacing mountains, where majestic nature frequently has a hostile side.

In her second foray into “Himalayan Gothic” after dealing with it masterfully in “The Face at the Window” (2016) about an old widow, Manral now shows us the slow dissolution of a dysfunctional relationship on a bigger family, through the perspective of beauteous but fragile Aisha Thakur, whose life has long been in turmoil.

Not only has her marriage been reduced to a sham despite two children, she has reasons to suspects her husband Prithvi, who remains at work as much as he can, has designs on her ancestral property — and the demons that plagued her mother seem to be firmly entrenched in her mind too.

And then one rainy afternoon, comes an unexpected visitor who shakes her already unstable world beyond measure. A woman, who seems eerily familiar, turns up at her doorstep of their rather isolated house and announces that she is Heer, her half-sister — the daughter of the woman for whom her father had abandoned them years back.

Despite her reluctance, Aisha yields to her unspoken entreaties and allows her in, though her children, who soon return from school, are curious about the guest. And then a chain of environmental causes, her children’s impetuous actions and a certain disinclination to send off a guest — no matter how unwelcome — into treacherous weather, leaves her no alternative but to allow her newly-found sibling to stay on. The stay becomes a bit indefinite.

And then Aisha goes on an errand into the town, but the hostile weather makes her unable to return home. Rather fortuitously, she meets a rather helpful and handsome stranger and they enjoy some days of bliss before ulterior motives and real intentions bring her down in a resounding crash.

As her family comes to know she has committed suicide, the dislocation is minimised as Heer steps into her role, including in Prithvi’s bed, and soon takes over his life, even convincing him to send the children to boarding school.

What does Heer want and what has happened to Aisha — with her son insisting she is not dead — are questions dealt with in the second part of this engrossing but disturbing story as Manral deftly turns the narrative from her female protagonist to the male to show how mental illness — and the lack of trust and the vulnerabilities it engenders — may send even the sane into an equally lethal labyrinth.

In one way, the book seems as a conspiracy thriller down to its rather shocking but unresolved end — but like life mostly is, the versatile author, who has everything from frothy romances to spine-chillers, gives it a wider canvas.

This she manages in everything from lifestyles of dissolute landlords of yore, some evocative descriptions of paranoia, some steamy sex, and some vivid descriptions of characters who show they are not what they seem, and the rather oleaginous police inspector and the sceptical lawyer with his unpalatable life lessons lend heft.

And the “50 Shades of Grey” and Harry Potter references are an inspired touch.

But overall, what marks Manral’s work is her judicious handling of a key issue, without taking sides, while focussing on how identity, trust and support are key to relationships, not lust or benefits.

(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in )

—IANS

Romantic repetitions: Love re-ignited and its redemptive course (Book Review)

Romantic repetitions: Love re-ignited and its redemptive course (Book Review)

Saving MayaBy Vikas Datta,

Title: Saving Maya; Author: Kiran Manral; Publisher: Bombaykala Books: Pages: 142 Price: Rs 275

Relationships, of the romantic sort especially, are arguably the most important facet of life but can they be eternal, with even absence or abandonment by either partner curbing the other’s ability, hope or even desire to begin a new one? Or are there second chances, with love working its mysterious and irresistible magic on the most despairing heart?

Then there is the matter of recognising such a chance when it may arise, and if it is entails a choice, hoping the right course is chosen — as the prodigious Kiran Manral shows in this endearing and witty story of a rather transformational month or so in the life of a divorced mother.

As the story opens in Mumbai in December 2015, it’s been just a year or so that Maya Arya nee Sharma has divorced from her philandering husband after catching him in flagrante delicto in his office — when he thoughtlessly left the door unlocked.

Left with a modest suburban apartment and support to their young son’s education but needing to work again to sustain herself, she is now feeling a man-sized hole in her life amid other personal and professional preoccupations — but prospects seem bleak.

But there appears an eligible neighbour, a high-flying academician, whose letters keep coming to her house. And then she gets her hands — accidentally — on him while trying to drag her son, already late for school, into the lift only to finds she’s grabbed hold of the wrong person.

So far brusque, he then invites her out for coffee and has a unique offer — to act as his “girlfriend” at some events he is forced to attend — with the clear understanding it would not lead to anything more. Though she indignantly rejects it, she reconsiders and accepts after a blind date, set up by a close friend, turns out disastrously when it ends with the man asking her to join him in a threesome.

And as Maya, whose close friend has hired her a life coach and personal trainer for her complete makeover, wonders if her “tryst” with the professor will lead to anything meaningful, there appears another contender — a globe-trotting cousin of her boss.

But there are also a series of whammies — her son Dushyant returns from a weekend with his father bearing an invitation card for his second marriage, and then her professor seems coming on to her but then disappears.

In the course of an eventful month, will something work out for Maya or will her life remain achingly lonely? And what happens at the wedding? The story, in the hands of the versatile, gifted and irrepressible author, ends on expected lines but not in a way you could have anticipated.

In her eighth book, Manral, however, doesn’t only confine herself to second chances at love but gives added layers and nuances to the motif so as to incorporate a whole gamut of issues of modern urban living and love, especially for single, professional women.

While the story is enlivened with deft characterisation — concerned, overprotective mothers, nosy neighbours, curious children (with the author most assiduously and amusingly reproducing their pronunciation), dependable but dominating friends (Arzoo is awesome) and demanding work colleagues — wry (and even slapstick) humour and the sparkling dialogue, its real strength is beyond these.

This is the depiction of women who have managed to take charge of their life no matter in what circumstances.

As Manral brings out, we see these women all around us – they can be outspoken, will not take things lying down, demand respect and equality, know what they want and don’t much care overly about what other people might think, may be lonely but not desperate enough to throw themselves away – but only a few (men) appreciate them.

Above all, such women know that even before a knight in shining armour — who may or may not show up or be suitable — there is only one person who they can depend upon. And Maya eventually learns who.

And that is what makes this work not just a romance, but rather a comedy of manners which both sexes must read and learn from.

(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in)

—IANS