Maid in Singapore by Kishore Modak: Impressions

Despite telling a complex grey tale, Kishore Modak's is one of the coldest voices I've ever read. A lot happens in the 239 pages of this short novel, yet the author remains impassive, failing to draw the reader in. It's more like reading a newspaper than a novel with no emotions evoked, and no connect made. I read the book in a day; not exactly sucked into the vortex of the tale, but like a rooted bystander observing its morbid goings on.

But 'Maid in Singapore' has a plot that one will not forget in a hurry. Kishore Modak writes about a modern nuclear family with an Indian wife Rashmi, a British husband, David, and their adolescent son of mixed ethnicity, Jay. When they are forced to move from London to Singapore, their life takes an unexpected turn. The presence of their new Filipino maid, Mary, triggers off a chain of events stemming from infidelity. The lead up is rather complex but it will be safe to mention that the plot has a lot of meat in it involving kinky sex, bastard children, cancer, homosexuality and even a gender change operation thrown in for good measure.

The story is apparently based on true events (gulp), and it chills one to think this is more than fiction. Like I've mentioned above, despite the intrigue of the plot, Modak's style of writing is strangely sterile. It is difficult to put a finger on what exactly is lacking in the style, but it's somehow clinical. Despite the shame, anger, blame, resignation and acceptance the protagonists go through, they fail to touch you. Here you're reading about a  man-wife relationship gone bad, a terminal illness, even sexual deviations, but you never once feel anything on the left side of your chest, or the corner of your eye.

And then there are times, when the author gets into a philosophical mood and leaves you with a mouthful of words and little else. Sample these lines:

Time, it simply moves away from us, leaving us in a rut of petty, personal tangles, forcing us to look down, down where there is nothing but the mundane to toy with, while on top things move steadily away on the waves of time, reaching the horizon before moving out of sight, forever, never once waiting for us to look up. 

OR

Isn't marriage supposed to enliven our sexual fantasies, keeping us physically contented in its holy circle, nuptial gravity ensuring that we don't waver outwards, tangentially away from the circumference into the realm of infidelity?

You feel like slapping the editor at these points, but then the next murky turn distracts you. So, Maid in Singapore is a twisty story of human frailties - convincing, well-told even, but one with no heart in it.

   

Shades of Love: Impressions

The last time I read an anthology was during my BA days, when hours would be spent trying to thrash a Keating or a Chekov into submitting all interpretations of their work in the Lit. class. I think it was the nostalgia that prompted me to accept a review copy of 'Shades of Love', despite my professed fatigue of reading Indian English writing. Also, the endless intrigue of love pushed me further. Thankfully, it wasn't a bad pick.

Edited by Ankit Mittal (who needs to find a better proofreader, considering the number of errors I spotted), 'Shades of Love' is a collection of short love stories by Indian authors, known and unknown. Some names I was familiar with; Sachin Garg, Naman Kapur, Aastha Atray Banan and Rohit Gore among them. The other new names, were as good, if not better, than the published crop. Mittal needs to be credited for making mostly poignant choices, reflecting indeed the many shades of love in this anthology. However, some stories are entirely forgettable.

I shall recall, here, the most unforgettable ones.

'A Pop Tart's Psychotic Love Story' by Aastha Atray Banan with its 'LOOK AT ME!' title, also has the meat to go with it. We have the story of a girl, unable to forget the lover who has ditched her, pushed to the threshold of madness. She will do what it takes to have him back, even if it means to kill him or his present girlfriend. When she finally walks up to the ex's house, all guns blazing, she is met with a rather unexpected turn of events...

'A Hero Greater Than Shahrukh Khan' by Rohit Gore has a cheesy title (Gore has a penchant for those), but is deserving of mention because of its tenderness. Caught in Mumbai's infamous deluge, an underdog becomes his family's hero; winning love at the cost of his life.

'Stolen' by Naman Kapur is a sharp little story about love between two equals - in crime and in bed. A pickpocket zooms into a target, sparks fly, and the one out to steal is stolen from. Fun.

Apart from these, 'The Remedy' by Sachin Garg, and 'She Called It, Kikugasane' by Tushar Rai are also fair reads.

However, Durjoy Datta's 'The English Teacher' is the most remarkable and shocking story of the whole lot, about an obsessive love, and that's all I am going to say about it for fear of ruining it for a reader. If you need a reason to buy this book, buy it for Datta's story. Yes, ignore the horrible paper quality of the book, ignore the lame stories, even ignore the choice of font on the book cover. Read Datta's story and ask Grapevine India to rope him in to write a novel that would stick to a reader's mind forever.