Is there such a thing as a perfect relationship? Apparently there isn’t, according to Advaita Kala. Is there any dearth of single women looking for the perfect love and falling flat on their faces on the way. Again, there isn’t. But never mind that this idea has been done to death, it’s been resurrected and done again in Almost Single.
Rule Number 1 — one must never make their first novel look like a desi, tossed salad of Bridget Jones’ Diary and ‘Sex and the City’. Yes, they epitomise the modern woman, but you can’t pick characters from here and there, put them all together and then add some Indian masala to make it relevant!

The protagonist in Almost Single — Aisha Bhatia — is a lone woman who’s pushing thirty, works in a grand hotel, has a lecherous, womanising, unfair, foul-mouthed boss; but has a bunch of loyal and booze-happy friends who will never let her, or their champagne flutes, down. Throw in some gay men, lots of pink clothing and a lethal dose of stilettos to that.

When a beautiful and rich NRI man checks into her hotel, her jaw drops, her heart goes aflutter and her legs get so wobbly she does everything wrong — right from throwing toilet paper on a car to passing out on his bed. She manages to look like a goofy llama in front of the Greek God, while he just smiles everything away. Sounds a little too familiar.

Second — everything is a little too posh for the average reader to digest. Aisha wears nothing but Rohit Bal to ceremonies, she and her friends are always seen at watering holes like Tao and the like, never without a drink in their hand or a cigarette in their mouth. Stilettos, short pink dresses, outrageously gay friends (in India, trust me, they are few and far between. Or they’re hiding in the closet) named Nic and Ric, rival women in miniskirts and the boss’ wife who drinks and tolerates his adultery while abusing his subordinates — it is an acquired taste that can get too sour.

Here and there
Kala’s outlook seems to oscillate between a Western, modern way of life and the imposing influences of the Indian mother.

Aisha uses phrases and slang that have come straight out of a UC Berkeley experience or such. At other times, it is too punjabi (karva chauth, et al) for every Indian to appreciate Kala’s stamp on the character is unmistakable, Aisha could even be an extension of herself.

However, you have to hand it to the author — her sense of humour and timing is impeccable. Albeit a tad unoriginal at times, Kala’s punchlines and a spray of slapstick will generate quite a few laughs. Her perfect language is another thing to be appreciated. Whatever the situation may be, never once do you feel that she could have substituted a word for a better one. For that, Kala gets ten points.

The book also contains one glorious chapter ‘So You Want to Be a Princess?’, where Kala puts Aisha in close contact with a Gulf princess. The pace of this chapter alone seems to stand out like brocade trimming on an off-white saree. The lessons Aisha learns and the kinship she shares with the princess are startling and very well-done. If only Kala had kept the same depth in her other chapters and not let them become so frivolous.

When you look at the whole picture, Almost Single comes out as a ‘not-bad’ effort for a first-timer. The book is a must-read, but still, don’t expect it to be a ‘great’ read.