Next Door: Stories
by Jahanavi Barua
Penguin India, 2008
Ishwar Baral, the famous literary critic of Nepal, once wrote that a short story is a window from which the world outside is peered at. The cover of Next Door depicts just such an opening, beyond which lie windswept green vistas. This is a book that needs to be judged by its cover: its content takes readers on a voyage of discovery to places that are either imagined or linger in memories of half-forgotten dreams. Some tales in the collection are short – the eponymous one, for example – but most are of just the right size to capture the essence of emotions sought to be depicted in their full glory. Descriptions of locale in which human dramas unfold are exquisitely crafted, where not a word is wasted or spared to catch the spirit of time and space. Children and adults share the world of the author with intensity, but it is in the presentation of her aged characters that she truly excels. Koka-mama in "Holiday Homework" and Dhiren Majumdar in "Patriot" catch the dilemmas of the sunset years with acute sensitivity and sympathetic understanding.
It is astonishing to discover that such a live imagery of Assam – lived and remembered – is possible in English. But the lady does take the liberty of sprinkling her stories with Asomiya words that taste like chocolate powder sprinkled over instant coffee. The context explains native terms adequately without requiring translations. (C K Lal)
Viva Santiago
by Colin Fernandes
Penguin, 2008
Viva Santiago begins with promise: a young man's engaging enough tale of his grandfather, a perpetually drunk, acid-loving Goa hippie, with a secret just waiting to be unveiled to the reader. But the plot unravels quickly from here on, becoming a Da Vinci Code-like treasure hunt. Sadly, the series of clues the grandfather has scattered around Goa are dull, as is the action that leads up to their discovery. With a tendency to overuse Bob Dylan lyrics and stories of drug use to add spice to the story, the book almost appears to be trying too hard. Ultimately, it cannot even be interesting. In his note at the end the book, Fernandes thanks a friend for the loan of a laptop for the three weeks during which he wrote Viva Santiago. On reading this, one wishes he had kept the machine for a few more weeks – his friend would surely have agreed to the loan request after a glance at the manuscript. (Surabhi Pudasaini)