~ The Windfall, by Diksha Basu ~
Diksha Basu’s The Windfall is not as light and flaky as many contemporary ‘society’ novels on the Indian-Writings-in-English literary scene. In fact, it is quite an astute and well observed novel under the guise of light entertainment.
Mr and Mrs Jha are moving out of Mayur Palli , East Delhi, to Gurgaon, because Mr Jha has sold his start up for 20 million dollars and is suddenly relocated (physically and apparently consequently, socially too) from the middle classes to the upper classes. They leave behind old friends and gossipy neighbours for a new neighbourhood, but also seemingly a new way of life, a new set of accepted norms, a whole new India in the same city they have known all their lives. Basu’s observations and comments about how wealth is displayed and calculated are telling and amusing, conveyed without too much exaggeration or froth, which is a welcome change.
Her novel is a love song to Delhi too, and charmingly depicts what small, tight-knit, closed set of societies the city comprises, despite its metropolitan status. In pockets of Delhi like Mayur Palli, everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everyone’s business too. One can’t even hire a taxi without one’s business being known at once, and by all the neighbours. There are also lovely mentions of particular shops, streets, the landscape of the city, and its different moods in different seasons.
The Jhas’ only son, Rupak, doing an MBA in Ithaca College – because his grades were not good enough for Cornell or the other Ivy Leagues – and dating Elizabeth (an American woman from Florida whom he does not tell his parents about), is preparing to receive a visit from his parents once they have moved into their new house in Gurgaon. He is also starting to see Serena, an Indian girl from Delhi (though not East Delhi), studying film, whom a neighbour of his parents (Mrs Gupta) had set him up with. Rupak is clearly torn between the two lifestyles and norms which seem to come with these two different girls. He is depicted as a well brought up boy who is rendered lazy and ineffective by a sudden influx of tremendous wealth. It is clear he does not know his own mind, and his parents seem not to know how to guide him.
Despite the fact there are of course some comic characters and some caricatures (especially of the Chopras, the Jhas’ new, wealth-and-prestige-obsessed neighbours in Gurgaon), and some inevitable stereotyping for comic effect, it is a relief that most of the main characters are quite nuanced, especially the Jhas. There is a lovely portrayal of one Mrs Ray, a young widow who tries to live life on her own terms, and her exploration of the possibilities and limitations of this in a city like Delhi, particularly in a morally uptight pocket of Delhi like Mayur Palli which seems to be a world unto itself.
Mrs Jha is especially delightful. though sometimes one wonders if she is too good to be true – there was an unexpected sentence in the novel about Mrs Jha wondering – after meeting Serena – if the girl is too good for her son. She must be a rare Indian mother indeed, to wonder such a thing! But by and large, most of the writing came across without insulting intelligence or taste, maintaining a lightness of touch without too much trivialising or going over the top.
Regretfully, the last fifth or so of the novel, the wrapping up of these various threads, was the weakest part of the novel and most unsatisfactory. This is unsurprising for a debut novel, where the writer seems to run out of either steam or ideas or both, and awkwardly attempts to conclude the novel, forcing the pace, twisting the plot, and even doing an injustice to her characters. (The making of Mr Jha into such an idiot at the end was out of character, and unconvincing.) The resolution between Rupak and Serena also seemed rushed and unnecessary. However, the rest of the novel was well worth reading, and perhaps Basu’s structure, pace and characters in her next novel – The Wedding Party – will be better sustained and concluded.
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