<p>In a subtle love poem to Delhi, debut novelist Simran Dhir weaves an ode to its typical inhabitants, its eateries, over-the-top parties, and how love blossoms between people who know people and may help people who don’t know the right people.</p>.<p>Gayatri is 32 and steadfastly refuses to get married which supposedly means she is naive and headstrong — traits she will not outgrow in all the 345 pages of the telling of her story. Akshay is 39, male, and therefore faces no pressure to enter a state of wedlock, is superb, successful, and fits into a storyline desperately seeking a marriageable hero. Their younger siblings are married to each other combining the fates of the Mehra and Grewal families who typify affluent South Delhi Punjabi professional families who have made it. In a plot twist, all four mentioned here are lawyers.</p>.<p>When Gayatri faces a situation, she asks Mr Grewal for help. Considering her as extended family, he deputes his son to sort out the mess which Akshay does while advising Gayatri not to be naive and to give up her chosen line of work. Of course, this launches them on a path of passive-aggressive friendship that may lead to only one conclusion.</p>.<p>The glitch at work comes in the form of a threatening email by an ultra-right-wing organisation that seeks to rewrite history by forcing journals to publish under-researched papers that further their ideology. Predictably, a menacing Sadhuji is a kingpin with tentacles in politics and financial scams, replete with goonda henchmen, shady fixers, and hatchet men while milking a large subset of Delhi’s elite devotees. Gayatri works as an editor for Indian History Review, a history journal, and chooses to militate rather than dilute the quality of research they publish.</p>.<p>Also, there’s Vikram, an arranged marriage candidate she sees over and over not only because the internal dynamics of the novel demand a foil but also because she likes him and must decide whether he fits the profile of a life partner. It must be noted that Vikas is not blue blood; he is raised and schooled in UP and it is only lately his middle-class family has made it to a posh Delhi neighbourhood.</p>.<p>There are subplots too that demand attention. Mr Grewal chooses to begin an affair with his son’s girlfriend Neelam and sustains it for 17 years with the full knowledge of his wife and older son, now scarred by the experience. The hasty marriage between Nandini and Amar fizzles out dramatically but in ways under-explored by the author. Realistically, the romance between the lead couple is too formulaic and the meatier story could be this dissolution of love and marriage, though its portrayal is rather grey and fuzzy. The grim story of the flipside of love and passion functions as a counterbalance for all those bedazzled by the picture-perfect unfolding of Simran’s love story.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Sublime crafting</p>.<p>What stands out in this narrative is a rare technical quality by which the author keeps the reader engaged via neat and frequent developments in the plot; the structure and crafting of this book is sublime. Though much of the developments are mundane or predictable, Dhir instills an anticipation of the unfolding. It is certainly a great gift to find a book that is not good in patches but sustains a certain admirable standard of readability throughout. The other outstanding feature here is how time is handled such that the fictional timelines seem almost circadian and believable.</p>.<p>Of course, there are issues too; some with language, as in “yellow colour” or “shelf of books”. After a while, passing off statements as questions begin to grate. This ought to have been edited out. As too the preponderance of dialogues in Hindi.</p>.<p>The entire right-wing villainy aspect does not quite fit in with the tenor of the book. The prose in these passages changes into a heavier mineral form. Yet, it does add an element of contemporaneity to the otherwise simple but cutely narrated love story. </p>.<p>The book ends on a rather judgmental and almost filmy note with all the “evil” characters exposed and defeated. For all the blending of greys the book talks of, its resolutions are in black and white. Not that it matters; for the book is meant for those who hold love stories and the mad intoxicating muddle that is Delhi close to their hearts. This is one to buy and share with fellow romance addicts.</p>
<p>In a subtle love poem to Delhi, debut novelist Simran Dhir weaves an ode to its typical inhabitants, its eateries, over-the-top parties, and how love blossoms between people who know people and may help people who don’t know the right people.</p>.<p>Gayatri is 32 and steadfastly refuses to get married which supposedly means she is naive and headstrong — traits she will not outgrow in all the 345 pages of the telling of her story. Akshay is 39, male, and therefore faces no pressure to enter a state of wedlock, is superb, successful, and fits into a storyline desperately seeking a marriageable hero. Their younger siblings are married to each other combining the fates of the Mehra and Grewal families who typify affluent South Delhi Punjabi professional families who have made it. In a plot twist, all four mentioned here are lawyers.</p>.<p>When Gayatri faces a situation, she asks Mr Grewal for help. Considering her as extended family, he deputes his son to sort out the mess which Akshay does while advising Gayatri not to be naive and to give up her chosen line of work. Of course, this launches them on a path of passive-aggressive friendship that may lead to only one conclusion.</p>.<p>The glitch at work comes in the form of a threatening email by an ultra-right-wing organisation that seeks to rewrite history by forcing journals to publish under-researched papers that further their ideology. Predictably, a menacing Sadhuji is a kingpin with tentacles in politics and financial scams, replete with goonda henchmen, shady fixers, and hatchet men while milking a large subset of Delhi’s elite devotees. Gayatri works as an editor for Indian History Review, a history journal, and chooses to militate rather than dilute the quality of research they publish.</p>.<p>Also, there’s Vikram, an arranged marriage candidate she sees over and over not only because the internal dynamics of the novel demand a foil but also because she likes him and must decide whether he fits the profile of a life partner. It must be noted that Vikas is not blue blood; he is raised and schooled in UP and it is only lately his middle-class family has made it to a posh Delhi neighbourhood.</p>.<p>There are subplots too that demand attention. Mr Grewal chooses to begin an affair with his son’s girlfriend Neelam and sustains it for 17 years with the full knowledge of his wife and older son, now scarred by the experience. The hasty marriage between Nandini and Amar fizzles out dramatically but in ways under-explored by the author. Realistically, the romance between the lead couple is too formulaic and the meatier story could be this dissolution of love and marriage, though its portrayal is rather grey and fuzzy. The grim story of the flipside of love and passion functions as a counterbalance for all those bedazzled by the picture-perfect unfolding of Simran’s love story.</p>.<p class="CrossHead">Sublime crafting</p>.<p>What stands out in this narrative is a rare technical quality by which the author keeps the reader engaged via neat and frequent developments in the plot; the structure and crafting of this book is sublime. Though much of the developments are mundane or predictable, Dhir instills an anticipation of the unfolding. It is certainly a great gift to find a book that is not good in patches but sustains a certain admirable standard of readability throughout. The other outstanding feature here is how time is handled such that the fictional timelines seem almost circadian and believable.</p>.<p>Of course, there are issues too; some with language, as in “yellow colour” or “shelf of books”. After a while, passing off statements as questions begin to grate. This ought to have been edited out. As too the preponderance of dialogues in Hindi.</p>.<p>The entire right-wing villainy aspect does not quite fit in with the tenor of the book. The prose in these passages changes into a heavier mineral form. Yet, it does add an element of contemporaneity to the otherwise simple but cutely narrated love story. </p>.<p>The book ends on a rather judgmental and almost filmy note with all the “evil” characters exposed and defeated. For all the blending of greys the book talks of, its resolutions are in black and white. Not that it matters; for the book is meant for those who hold love stories and the mad intoxicating muddle that is Delhi close to their hearts. This is one to buy and share with fellow romance addicts.</p>