Of Dilli Haat, Bunker and Green Tea...

The last two days have been busy in its own ways. I had taken a two day leave, so that I could be alone, enjoy some long neglected book-reading, sleep and laze around, sip my bitter green tea in the balcony and watch some fantastic movie. Looks like, did some of all the things, I could think of.

Also went to the famous Dilli haat, bought few tribal painting. Will be framing them and putting them up in the drawing room with my long delayed project of putting up Lennon. Let’s see, how it pans out.

Now here goes my book review of Bunker 13 by Aniruddha Bahal

Just a backgrounder: The book was taken by one of my friends for the fiction section/ Indian Author book review for the insti’s session. He put up a glowing review, mostly because he was impressed with the supposedly graphic and visual details of the narrator’s sexual escapades and his frank womanizing throughout the book. But then, the novel was seconded by another friend, who happens to be a great reader and who simply termed the book as path-breaking as far as Indian authors are concerned.

The book is written by this journo of Tehelka fame, who was able to bring the whole sting-journalism into India, and his investigation still goes down into the annals of sting-operations as one of the most clinching and true in its character. It is the authors first book and deals with the life of a double-agent, the infightings and neck-deep corruption in Indian armed forces, the exploits of drug and sex; all culminated in a racy thriller replete with sexual encounters and author’s philosophical mooring about these subjects. To add to it, the story is narrated in a distinctive second person style, wherein the narrator keeps on calling himself ‘you’

‘You have soldiering boots stuck between your teeth so you don’t maul your tongue…’

The book starts with his training as a paratrooper as part of some journo-stuff for army, his dangerous friendship with an army Major, his tryst with drugs and skydiving together. The plot keeps on giving tid-bits of the narrator’s personality and his past life. The story in first part, when the plot keeps on getting clearer is funny and satirical. The second part tells the tale of the narrator’s life in the army camp, his active participation in the cross-border skirmishes and still keeps on flashing back to his past, just to bring more coherence in the plot. The writer changes gear in third part; he ceases to be sardonic, pulls up the pace of the plot, uses his past explanations to rationalize sudden turns of events and then in a last battle between the major and the narrator, ends the plot on the borders of Kargil war. In the whole process, the focus on two character’s : that of MM, the protagonist and Major Rodriguez, his nemesis is in focus, both men of similar dispositions and tastes, yet on the opposite sides due to reasons out of their hands. The narrator is almost empathetic to his nemesis’ plight and understands the psyche very well.

Another point that the author tries to make out from the book, is some kind of psychoanalysis or rather say, his own ideas about the psyche of a long standing soldier on the border, who is bereft of most of the worldly comforts, always scared of his dear life, but still hanging around and fighting the Mossies (the term used for terrorists in the novel), not out of some long sustained patriotism but more of the fear and livelihood. The author has also tried to weave the story, albeit with some success and little failure, the story around his own life; that of a scandal-splashing journo, who uses his might and brains to sting the dirty game of politics.

Overall the book is an interesting and worthwhile read, an entirely fresh wave of English writing in Indian settings, brings out entirely new topics for an Indian author and tries to create the aura of Catch-22 in modern India. The book is well-researched, probably shows the author’s mastery over the intricacies of drug snuffing and its different kinds, his understanding of the war-conditions prevalent on the LOC and a lot more. His allusions to swastika in one of the love-making scenes probably bring out the narrator’s fascist attitudes into focus.

Now brace up for some criticism: I felt the story loses steam in last 40 pages, wherein the plot becomes more action packed with incidents, twists and turns; the whole focus on satire, on his philosophical reflections on war, women, and sex – everything loses and like some typical thriller, the ends become dearer to the author. The author should also have done justice to Shomali and to the major a bit more, because they are equally complex characters, which should have been given more space of their own. They bring entirely new perspective to the whole drama. Also, somehow more depth in all the women characters, even Karnam would have been welcome. I always feel that some complex lady makes these novels all the more interesting. J

For the read, I would strongly suggest, Guys if you are missing some genuine, well-researched Indian fiction written from an insider’s perspective, go for this book. As far as the sexual and graphic details are concerned, I googgled it and found that the novel won ‘Bad sex in fiction’ award by Literary Review magazine.

A word for Anirudh S Pulipaka and Sindhu B, who went out for some clonial-time Tea Tasting tour  in some tea planter’s club in Darjeeling today, in the course of their Bharat Darshan Tour.

Sip your greens, in the field so green;

Gaze the stars, feel the eternal sheen.

Watch out North-east, for my friends are there;

Give them the scenes, behold they lifetime stare.

--
GKT