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The Normal State of Mind
Dipali, a young bride, is determined to make her marriage a success story. But her plans are cut short when her husband is killed by a bomb blast in Mumbai. Forced into a life of widowhood, her brother expects her to sacrifice her own independence for the sake of caring for their elderly mother, but Dipali has other ideas.
Moushumi, a school teacher, discovers that her attraction to women is not just a girl crush. As her parents discuss potential husbands, Moushumi escapes to her high-flying lover. But how long can she keep being a lesbian secret beyond the safe walls of glamorous art-crowd parties?
This stirring and important novel brings to the forefront the issue that, in the midst of communal riots and gay rights movements, India too has to make her own decisions about which traditions she must keep, and which she ought to let go.
Moushumi, a school teacher, discovers that her attraction to women is not just a girl crush. As her parents discuss potential husbands, Moushumi escapes to her high-flying lover. But how long can she keep being a lesbian secret beyond the safe walls of glamorous art-crowd parties?
This stirring and important novel brings to the forefront the issue that, in the midst of communal riots and gay rights movements, India too has to make her own decisions about which traditions she must keep, and which she ought to let go.
288 pages, Paperback
First published March 14, 2015
About the author
Susmita Bhattacharya
18 books59 followersSusmita was born in Mumbai, India. Her debut novel, The Normal State of Mind was published by Parthian in March 2015.
Susmita's short stories have been published in anthologies and journals in the U.K. and internationally.She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and got a commendable short story prize in the Frome Festival Short Story Contest. Her story has been broadcast on BBC Radio 4.
She has an MA in Creative Writing and runs writing workshops in her community.
She’s travelled on oil tanker ships with her husband for three years and will write about her sea adventures one day.
Susmita's short stories have been published in anthologies and journals in the U.K. and internationally.She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and got a commendable short story prize in the Frome Festival Short Story Contest. Her story has been broadcast on BBC Radio 4.
She has an MA in Creative Writing and runs writing workshops in her community.
She’s travelled on oil tanker ships with her husband for three years and will write about her sea adventures one day.
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
March 18, 2016
I want to thank Ms. Bhattacharya for partaking in my Meet the Writer feature. Her interesting answers about her book prompted me to request a copy of The Normal State of Mind from her publisher. Thank you to Susie Wild at Parthian Books for sending me this ARC.
The Normal State of Mind is a novel set in mostly in Mumbai and Calcutta. The chapters alternate between the stories of two women, Dipali and Moushumi. One is a traditional Indian bride, and the other is a lesbian. Both women suffer shame due family members and society trying to humiliate them, but Dipali and Moushumi count on their friendship to keep them emotionally stable when everyone else appears to present a threat. The story begins in 1990 and takes place over 8-10 years.
As she lays next to her new husband in bed after their wedding, Dipali expresses nervousness about consummating their marriage. New husband, Sunil, is understanding, and readers quickly learn he is not a traditional Indian man. Dipali works up the courage to take a shower, wash off all the cosmetics from their ceremony, and then get back into bed ready to make love (7). She’s known this man three months, meeting him after her brother found Sunil’s advertisement in the matrimony column of the newspaper (3). It’s a sweet beginning that made me excited to see what would happen next.
Sunil is kind and wants his wife to be happy. Granted, many studies show that during this time women suffer acid attacks, rape, domestic violence, and sexual harassment. I wondered, Why is Sunil so different from what I’ve read and seen in the media? Did his family raise him differently? If so, why? Perhaps Bhattacharya wanted to write a sweeter story to show that there is happiness in India, too. It’s a weird comparison, but Ice Cube wrote Boyz N The Hood and then responded with Friday to show both the struggles and the good times in Compton. It’s possible this is what Bhattacharya was doing, too. It’s beautiful to watch Sunil and Dipali support each other. For instance, Dipali’s brother, Ashish, wonders why Dipali gets to sit at the table at eat with the men. He says:
I couldn’t help but think of Ashish as a piggish stereotype: he treats women like servants, humiliates them, and later tries to bully his sister and mother into destitution. Sunil is the perfect foil to Ashish, and I couldn’t wait to see the men interact more in the future. However, it was about this point that I got on Goodreads and saw the spoiler: Sunil dies in one of the 1993 bombings of Mumbai. After I read that, I didn’t feel very invested in Dipali’s story. It felt like a door slammed in my face.
Moushumi’s tale begins more perversely: she’s hiding in the bushes and watching a woman undress and wash her clothes. The narrator says Moushumi feels “stupid, child-like” (8), but Mushumi is a grown woman. Never are readers asked to ponder Moushumi’s criminal behavior, which suggests invading a neighbor’s privacy is just a normal part of a lesbian discovering her sexuality. I was uncomfortable with this implication.
The rest of The Normal State of Mind was very predictable. If you’ve ever seen or read a story similar to Bridget Jones’s Diary, you know where everything is going. It doesn’t help that many of the characters are stereotypes, like Ashish. For exmple, during the time Dipali enjoys her brief marriage, Moushumi meets a wealthy woman named Jasmine, and they begin an affair. But Jasmine’s husband is so rich and important that he doesn’t notice. Jasmine is a stereotype. Anything “poor people” offends her (58-59), she loves to shop (75), she has temper tantrums (74), and she’s all kissy-kissy with her rich friends (11) — she even utters the sentence “You have my number. Call me if you have the guts. I will show you how to live” (15). It’s an overused concept –a stereotype– to have a rich person show a poor person how to really “live.” Falling back onto stereotypes doesn’t help the reader. Instead, I had more questions: How did Moushumi insert herself into a rich woman’s world? Well, Moushumi, who lives in a “mediocre” neighborhood (59), shows up in a posh art gallery. Later, we learn she’s friends with artists. This part of her life doesn’t make sense and is not explored by the author. What do Moushumi and Jasmine have in common? I thought maybe it was the sex that Jasmine enjoyed so much, but there are no love making scenes in this book — none that you can read anyway.
Where are the descriptions in The Normal State of Mind? There’s food aplenty, and I applaud the author for always making the food come to life. But still. There’s plenty of opportunity for descriptions when widow Dipali goes on a date with the photographer, Gandharv. Dipali is a very sensuous woman who wants physical intimacy, but has denied herself even masturbation since Sunil died (113). Now, she’s willing to try. Gandharv has asked his friends where to take Dipali on a date, and they recommended Bandstand. Dipali is confused when they get there; the place is known for couples making out and having sex in their cars. Though she had never been there, her teenage friends always wanted to go (228-229). Gandharv apologizes for the situation, but asks if they should “Do as the Romans do” (229). Dipali decides they should:
When I read this scene, I assumed Dipali changed her mind and stopped Gandharv mid-kiss. However, when Gandharv drops her off at home, brother Ashish storms out the door and asks her where she’s been. He accuses her of being a whore (232). Dipali thinks, “Was having a night out whoring? Was making love to Gandharv a sin? No, it didn’t feel like whoring to her” (232). Here is the confirmation that Dipali did have sex with Gandharv. So why is the scene in the car so unclear? If not in the car, did she have sex with him at a previous time? If she did, I can’t confirm it. Many scenes are blurry enough to make me uncertain as to what’s happening.
I kept reading on, hoping for more from Moushumi and Dipali, who are not stereotypes. Yet, they aren’t balanced in a way that helps the reader understand them. After that date, Dipali is in a panic: she tells Gandharv she will be in trouble. Gandharv tells he she is an adult and can’t get in trouble (231). And yet, Dipali flip-flops. She’s brave, yet in trouble. She’s weak, yet wants her old-school traditional mother to take a stand against Ashish (257). Simply put, Dipali isn’t consistent, and I don’t know why.
Moushumi isn’t consistent, either. She goes from peeping tom, to wealthy woman’s mistress, to the shame of her family, to a face for the gay right’s movement in Calcutta. At first I thought this represented growth; however, there is a scene in which Moushumi is so different I no longer cared about her. A theater is playing an Indian film in which a woman is always in distress and nearly getting her sari pulled off, breasts almost bared. A group of women protest; they call the people who watch the film rapists, pornographers, and perverts. Here is Moushumi’s reaction to the crowd of women fighting for their rights (and with good reason; remember what I said about rape, domestic violence, child brides, etc?):
This passage is highly problematic. First, why would Moushumi laugh at the struggle of other women when she was fighting for gay rights? Next, where did she get the idea that films with breasts prevent sexual assault? Third, I’m not sure how it’s a smart idea to suggest that sexual frustration leads to sexual crimes. “Frustration” and criminal acts are not the same thing, though Moushumi is the woman who hides in bushes and watches women undress, so perhaps this is the “frustration” she means. Finally, what is Moushumi’s “quandary”? She’s not going to take action; she’s weighing the sides as if she’s trying to figure out which shoes would work best with an outfit. Really, I’m not sure what the author wanted readers to take away from this scene other than Moushumi is unreliable, ignorant, and a bit cruel.
With so many problems throughout the novel picking at me like a thorny bush, I was never really moved to block out everything else and be in the novel. I was constantly aware that I was reading a book. For instance, Dipali thinks about how she likes the new teacher, Moushumi, because she isn’t like the other teachers (123). In what way? What is Dipali’s impression? Another writing tool frequently used is the question: instead of thinking out ideas, characters asks themselves long lists of questions. When Dipali learns that Gandharv kissed Moushumi to help her confirm she won’t be straight if she just gives it a try, Dipali wonders, “How dare she? Why use him? How could he? Could he do that to anyone without feeling for that person?” (187). All of these fairly polite questions — instead of thoughts –feel like the writer is asking readers to help her. I can imagine what Dipali is thinking about Moushumi and Gandharv, but it’s not my job to fill in descriptions.
In the end, I wanted more care put into the writing style and more substance from the characters. It would be easy to do. Dipali and Moushumi are both teachers. Yet, they never discuss teaching, students, or colleagues. The story is consumed with finding a boyfriend/girlfriend, and so if you’ve read that kind of story before, you won’t be surprised by what you read here.
This review was originally published at Grab the Lapels.
The Normal State of Mind is a novel set in mostly in Mumbai and Calcutta. The chapters alternate between the stories of two women, Dipali and Moushumi. One is a traditional Indian bride, and the other is a lesbian. Both women suffer shame due family members and society trying to humiliate them, but Dipali and Moushumi count on their friendship to keep them emotionally stable when everyone else appears to present a threat. The story begins in 1990 and takes place over 8-10 years.
As she lays next to her new husband in bed after their wedding, Dipali expresses nervousness about consummating their marriage. New husband, Sunil, is understanding, and readers quickly learn he is not a traditional Indian man. Dipali works up the courage to take a shower, wash off all the cosmetics from their ceremony, and then get back into bed ready to make love (7). She’s known this man three months, meeting him after her brother found Sunil’s advertisement in the matrimony column of the newspaper (3). It’s a sweet beginning that made me excited to see what would happen next.
Sunil is kind and wants his wife to be happy. Granted, many studies show that during this time women suffer acid attacks, rape, domestic violence, and sexual harassment. I wondered, Why is Sunil so different from what I’ve read and seen in the media? Did his family raise him differently? If so, why? Perhaps Bhattacharya wanted to write a sweeter story to show that there is happiness in India, too. It’s a weird comparison, but Ice Cube wrote Boyz N The Hood and then responded with Friday to show both the struggles and the good times in Compton. It’s possible this is what Bhattacharya was doing, too. It’s beautiful to watch Sunil and Dipali support each other. For instance, Dipali’s brother, Ashish, wonders why Dipali gets to sit at the table at eat with the men. He says:
“This is our family tradition. Ma and Dipali never once ate a morsel until Baba and I had eaten, did you Ma? Even Shikha [Ashish’s wife] insists on serving me before she can start. Maybe because then she gets the horse’s share,” Ashish laughed between munching on a poppadam. He eyed his wife’s big body and pointed at her. “Look at the advantages of serving the husband first. Doesn’t Dipali do the same?” (20)
I couldn’t help but think of Ashish as a piggish stereotype: he treats women like servants, humiliates them, and later tries to bully his sister and mother into destitution. Sunil is the perfect foil to Ashish, and I couldn’t wait to see the men interact more in the future. However, it was about this point that I got on Goodreads and saw the spoiler: Sunil dies in one of the 1993 bombings of Mumbai. After I read that, I didn’t feel very invested in Dipali’s story. It felt like a door slammed in my face.
Moushumi’s tale begins more perversely: she’s hiding in the bushes and watching a woman undress and wash her clothes. The narrator says Moushumi feels “stupid, child-like” (8), but Mushumi is a grown woman. Never are readers asked to ponder Moushumi’s criminal behavior, which suggests invading a neighbor’s privacy is just a normal part of a lesbian discovering her sexuality. I was uncomfortable with this implication.
The rest of The Normal State of Mind was very predictable. If you’ve ever seen or read a story similar to Bridget Jones’s Diary, you know where everything is going. It doesn’t help that many of the characters are stereotypes, like Ashish. For exmple, during the time Dipali enjoys her brief marriage, Moushumi meets a wealthy woman named Jasmine, and they begin an affair. But Jasmine’s husband is so rich and important that he doesn’t notice. Jasmine is a stereotype. Anything “poor people” offends her (58-59), she loves to shop (75), she has temper tantrums (74), and she’s all kissy-kissy with her rich friends (11) — she even utters the sentence “You have my number. Call me if you have the guts. I will show you how to live” (15). It’s an overused concept –a stereotype– to have a rich person show a poor person how to really “live.” Falling back onto stereotypes doesn’t help the reader. Instead, I had more questions: How did Moushumi insert herself into a rich woman’s world? Well, Moushumi, who lives in a “mediocre” neighborhood (59), shows up in a posh art gallery. Later, we learn she’s friends with artists. This part of her life doesn’t make sense and is not explored by the author. What do Moushumi and Jasmine have in common? I thought maybe it was the sex that Jasmine enjoyed so much, but there are no love making scenes in this book — none that you can read anyway.
Where are the descriptions in The Normal State of Mind? There’s food aplenty, and I applaud the author for always making the food come to life. But still. There’s plenty of opportunity for descriptions when widow Dipali goes on a date with the photographer, Gandharv. Dipali is a very sensuous woman who wants physical intimacy, but has denied herself even masturbation since Sunil died (113). Now, she’s willing to try. Gandharv has asked his friends where to take Dipali on a date, and they recommended Bandstand. Dipali is confused when they get there; the place is known for couples making out and having sex in their cars. Though she had never been there, her teenage friends always wanted to go (228-229). Gandharv apologizes for the situation, but asks if they should “Do as the Romans do” (229). Dipali decides they should:
“I want this, Gandharv,” she whispered and pressed her lips to his. “Like you said, do in Rome—”
They fumbled clumsily as they tried to embrace each other within the constricted space [of the car]. They ignored the kulfi-wala asking if they’d like a kulfi to cool down.
‘Oh, stop, stop,’ she gasped, pulling away from him. They both faced each other, breathing hard. He put his head on the steering wheel and tried to calm down. She pulled down her kurta and began to ease out the creases. She had to hug herself tightly so that her hands didn’t automatically reach out to claim him again. (230-231)
When I read this scene, I assumed Dipali changed her mind and stopped Gandharv mid-kiss. However, when Gandharv drops her off at home, brother Ashish storms out the door and asks her where she’s been. He accuses her of being a whore (232). Dipali thinks, “Was having a night out whoring? Was making love to Gandharv a sin? No, it didn’t feel like whoring to her” (232). Here is the confirmation that Dipali did have sex with Gandharv. So why is the scene in the car so unclear? If not in the car, did she have sex with him at a previous time? If she did, I can’t confirm it. Many scenes are blurry enough to make me uncertain as to what’s happening.
I kept reading on, hoping for more from Moushumi and Dipali, who are not stereotypes. Yet, they aren’t balanced in a way that helps the reader understand them. After that date, Dipali is in a panic: she tells Gandharv she will be in trouble. Gandharv tells he she is an adult and can’t get in trouble (231). And yet, Dipali flip-flops. She’s brave, yet in trouble. She’s weak, yet wants her old-school traditional mother to take a stand against Ashish (257). Simply put, Dipali isn’t consistent, and I don’t know why.
Moushumi isn’t consistent, either. She goes from peeping tom, to wealthy woman’s mistress, to the shame of her family, to a face for the gay right’s movement in Calcutta. At first I thought this represented growth; however, there is a scene in which Moushumi is so different I no longer cared about her. A theater is playing an Indian film in which a woman is always in distress and nearly getting her sari pulled off, breasts almost bared. A group of women protest; they call the people who watch the film rapists, pornographers, and perverts. Here is Moushumi’s reaction to the crowd of women fighting for their rights (and with good reason; remember what I said about rape, domestic violence, child brides, etc?):
Moushumi watched, at first with amusement and then with growing concern. She didn’t know with whom to side. The women, who self-righteously claimed that the film was degrading women. Or should she side with the film, which, by being a means of release for these men, possibly prevented them from committing sexual crimes in reality. They probably jerked off in the cinema, giving vent to their sexual frustrations. She was in a quandary. (174)
This passage is highly problematic. First, why would Moushumi laugh at the struggle of other women when she was fighting for gay rights? Next, where did she get the idea that films with breasts prevent sexual assault? Third, I’m not sure how it’s a smart idea to suggest that sexual frustration leads to sexual crimes. “Frustration” and criminal acts are not the same thing, though Moushumi is the woman who hides in bushes and watches women undress, so perhaps this is the “frustration” she means. Finally, what is Moushumi’s “quandary”? She’s not going to take action; she’s weighing the sides as if she’s trying to figure out which shoes would work best with an outfit. Really, I’m not sure what the author wanted readers to take away from this scene other than Moushumi is unreliable, ignorant, and a bit cruel.
With so many problems throughout the novel picking at me like a thorny bush, I was never really moved to block out everything else and be in the novel. I was constantly aware that I was reading a book. For instance, Dipali thinks about how she likes the new teacher, Moushumi, because she isn’t like the other teachers (123). In what way? What is Dipali’s impression? Another writing tool frequently used is the question: instead of thinking out ideas, characters asks themselves long lists of questions. When Dipali learns that Gandharv kissed Moushumi to help her confirm she won’t be straight if she just gives it a try, Dipali wonders, “How dare she? Why use him? How could he? Could he do that to anyone without feeling for that person?” (187). All of these fairly polite questions — instead of thoughts –feel like the writer is asking readers to help her. I can imagine what Dipali is thinking about Moushumi and Gandharv, but it’s not my job to fill in descriptions.
In the end, I wanted more care put into the writing style and more substance from the characters. It would be easy to do. Dipali and Moushumi are both teachers. Yet, they never discuss teaching, students, or colleagues. The story is consumed with finding a boyfriend/girlfriend, and so if you’ve read that kind of story before, you won’t be surprised by what you read here.
This review was originally published at Grab the Lapels.
October 6, 2020
This book is the experience of two women in 1990s India and how they faced Indian societal attitudes towards widowhood and same sex relationships. It was very sensitively portrayed and as someone of Indian descent I was all too familiar with many of the situations these two ladies - Dipali a young widow and Moushumi a young women coming to terms with being a lesbian - and the stigma and shame brought upon by their families. The scenes of India were written with such precision and I felt like I was transported back there. I am relieved that article 377 that banned homosexuality in India was overturned a few years ago.
I am also happy that India has become much more open and accepting of the LGBTQ communities and of their rights to be who they are. Widowhood is not an issue anymore in big Indian metros and women are free to date and remarry. Much progress has been made in India since the 90s, but it still has a way to go.
I am also happy that India has become much more open and accepting of the LGBTQ communities and of their rights to be who they are. Widowhood is not an issue anymore in big Indian metros and women are free to date and remarry. Much progress has been made in India since the 90s, but it still has a way to go.
January 19, 2019
Such a lovely story, written so beautifully! I enjoyed every page.
February 26, 2018
This book was very different from all the book I have read so far. When I started reading, I didn’t wanted to read about Moushmi’s part and her relationship with jazmine. I didn’t like it. Not because they were lesbian, but because I hated how jazmine treated moushmi. Dipali’s part of the story was also nice. Her relationship with her husband was very cute. I was so sadden by the fact that he didn’t survive the blasts and she was living a life of a widow. The book portrayed both character and their struggle very well from India’s perspective. The struggle of the widow to be accepted and having her a chance to remarry. The struggle of lesbian to be accepted and her chance of having a partner and a normal relationship. It was all glimpse of reality that India faces. No matter how modern people become, some thinking, certain beliefs are still there and it ruins people’s life. I absolutely hated dipali’s brother, and how he was calling her whore and bitch just because she was a widow and seeing another men. Why can’t she have chance to live her life?? This book is very good. Overall, this was a good read.
January 2, 2017
This was a brave, interesting story about two Bengali women: one a lesbian, struggling with her sexual identity in India, a country of backward thinking about homosexuality; the other, a woman beset by tragedy and heartbreak. The book is set in Mumbai and Calcutta, with beautiful descriptions of both cities. I really enjoyed this book, with it's unusual storyline, challenging the societal norms of life in conservative families. Highly Recommended!
June 25, 2022
The LGBTQ community has faced much discrimination and repression in post-colonial India. And no matter what community you are from, if you are a woman, the odds will always be stacked against you.
This book takes you into the lives of two women – Moushumi and Dipali. Moushumi is a lesbian who is locked in the constant conflict of choosing between a peaceful life and an honest life. Because of this secrecy she is forced to live with, her understanding of her sexuality and relationships becomes increasingly warped, as she struggles to find a way to have a healthy relationship with another woman.
Then we meet Dipali, a heterosexual woman who has lived her entire life by patriarchal rules – and yet has no agency whatsoever. Hers is also a life controlled by others and extremely limited when it comes to choices. She too, finds herself having to choose between disrupting the peace that was created from her repression in order to take control of her own life, or just letting things be and sacrificing herself to the system.
The author is a wonderful storyteller, and really makes you feel what both of these protagonists go through in their self-discovery within a system designed to oppress them – the immense pain, loss, and in spite of it all, hope.
And if there’s one lesson we learn from this books, it’s that a life of only good decisions is not a life worth living.
This book takes you into the lives of two women – Moushumi and Dipali. Moushumi is a lesbian who is locked in the constant conflict of choosing between a peaceful life and an honest life. Because of this secrecy she is forced to live with, her understanding of her sexuality and relationships becomes increasingly warped, as she struggles to find a way to have a healthy relationship with another woman.
Then we meet Dipali, a heterosexual woman who has lived her entire life by patriarchal rules – and yet has no agency whatsoever. Hers is also a life controlled by others and extremely limited when it comes to choices. She too, finds herself having to choose between disrupting the peace that was created from her repression in order to take control of her own life, or just letting things be and sacrificing herself to the system.
The author is a wonderful storyteller, and really makes you feel what both of these protagonists go through in their self-discovery within a system designed to oppress them – the immense pain, loss, and in spite of it all, hope.
And if there’s one lesson we learn from this books, it’s that a life of only good decisions is not a life worth living.
June 3, 2026
The Normal State of Mind is the second touch of August but the first book to finish reading. It is penned by Susmita Bhattacharya, an Indian writer. Parthian Books published it in 2015.
The book predominantly messages to its readers about a contradictory urge of some people to establish their rights of living the way they want to and to ask a proper shelter for themselves in the late 20th society of India.
In spite of being widow, Dipali wants to break the traditional bindings and start her life again with a reliable guy to whom she can find happiness. In the same sense but in different form, Moushumi cries out to be granted to the society as a lesbian who only longs for a true love, a trustworthy shoulder to keep her head without any hesitation for whole life. Besides Dipali and Moushumi, the writer also relates many other social problems confronted by the people at the time of the destructive Babri Masjid riots.
However, the book ends up with lots of hope and possible care to be fulfilled and loved one day.
I personally enjoyed reading this book. Though the first few pages poked me to throw it for its dramatic style of writings. But gradually the changes of the art of writing led me to go ahead as fast as I could. Without being boring, finally finished it within four or five days. And then gleefully returned the book to the library as well. ☺️
The book predominantly messages to its readers about a contradictory urge of some people to establish their rights of living the way they want to and to ask a proper shelter for themselves in the late 20th society of India.
In spite of being widow, Dipali wants to break the traditional bindings and start her life again with a reliable guy to whom she can find happiness. In the same sense but in different form, Moushumi cries out to be granted to the society as a lesbian who only longs for a true love, a trustworthy shoulder to keep her head without any hesitation for whole life. Besides Dipali and Moushumi, the writer also relates many other social problems confronted by the people at the time of the destructive Babri Masjid riots.
However, the book ends up with lots of hope and possible care to be fulfilled and loved one day.
I personally enjoyed reading this book. Though the first few pages poked me to throw it for its dramatic style of writings. But gradually the changes of the art of writing led me to go ahead as fast as I could. Without being boring, finally finished it within four or five days. And then gleefully returned the book to the library as well. ☺️
October 20, 2023
Some parts feels rushed, but the issues written were prominent in Asian culture. Women in general suffer from patriarchy, abuse from dominant household members (especially of the opposite sex), gets oppressed for just being who they are deep down. When they rebel against the oppression, they get humiliated, degraded, labelled as a fool/dirt, disrespected, abused etc.
Why exactly should women be submissive towards what society wants us to be? We become voiceless, dismissed, invalidated, and would feel hopeless and powerless when we allow ourselves into submission of dominating members of society. It is nice to have read about the two main characters (one widowed and one a lesbian) standing up and speaking up about their rights.
Why exactly should women be submissive towards what society wants us to be? We become voiceless, dismissed, invalidated, and would feel hopeless and powerless when we allow ourselves into submission of dominating members of society. It is nice to have read about the two main characters (one widowed and one a lesbian) standing up and speaking up about their rights.
January 26, 2022
Beautiful, rhythmic and emotional
Wonderfully written story covering so many themes, emotions and descriptions of India. I really felt I got to know the characters and felt their pain and emotions
Wonderfully written story covering so many themes, emotions and descriptions of India. I really felt I got to know the characters and felt their pain and emotions
August 23, 2019
Interesting story. Easy and quick read.
July 24, 2016
This is a very quick and generalised review as I read the book a year ago and never got around to reviewing it at the time. While a lot of the detail has filtered out, the key aspects of the book have resonated with me, and I have been recently requested for some feedback so forgive any errors or skewed details. (It contains no spoilers!) -
I had mixed feelings about The Normal State of Mind when I started it, but by the end of it, I was definitely glad to have read it. While it depicts stereotypes I, as a South Asian writer would like to see buried, it also explores some very crucial themes. Themes of gay rights and women's roles, especially in India during the 1990s are something less heard of and written about and I felt that for bringing such topics to light, The Normal State of Mind deserves more credit. While it explores tropes stereotypically associated with South Asian writing; marriage, abusive brothers, submissive women and mothers, overly rich descriptions of food, clothes and cities, rounding off with a predictable ending, I still enjoyed the book. I still felt that there was something necessary about depicting lesbians trying to fight for their identity in a society that constantly tells them who to be. Even Dipali's story is uplifting and different; widowed women are more often than not told that their lives are over and struggle to move forward and find a new partner in South Asian communities. The Normal State of Mind also stood out to me as it was published by Parthian Books, a Welsh publisher, whom I follow. With the current conversations and need for diversity in literature, more than ever, Wales can seem lagging behind and I felt that this book was a necessary addition. Besides, no one ever criticises men for repeatedly writing about booze, drugs and tobacco, or for romance writers for constantly writing about just that. The risk with dismissing something completely because it explores stereotypes is that you risk dismissing and overlooking whole conversations and cultures. Therefore to me, The Normal State of Mind is a necessary addition to diversity and depictions of queer poc experiences in literature.
I had mixed feelings about The Normal State of Mind when I started it, but by the end of it, I was definitely glad to have read it. While it depicts stereotypes I, as a South Asian writer would like to see buried, it also explores some very crucial themes. Themes of gay rights and women's roles, especially in India during the 1990s are something less heard of and written about and I felt that for bringing such topics to light, The Normal State of Mind deserves more credit. While it explores tropes stereotypically associated with South Asian writing; marriage, abusive brothers, submissive women and mothers, overly rich descriptions of food, clothes and cities, rounding off with a predictable ending, I still enjoyed the book. I still felt that there was something necessary about depicting lesbians trying to fight for their identity in a society that constantly tells them who to be. Even Dipali's story is uplifting and different; widowed women are more often than not told that their lives are over and struggle to move forward and find a new partner in South Asian communities. The Normal State of Mind also stood out to me as it was published by Parthian Books, a Welsh publisher, whom I follow. With the current conversations and need for diversity in literature, more than ever, Wales can seem lagging behind and I felt that this book was a necessary addition. Besides, no one ever criticises men for repeatedly writing about booze, drugs and tobacco, or for romance writers for constantly writing about just that. The risk with dismissing something completely because it explores stereotypes is that you risk dismissing and overlooking whole conversations and cultures. Therefore to me, The Normal State of Mind is a necessary addition to diversity and depictions of queer poc experiences in literature.
June 7, 2015
A very worthy novel, that deals with the issues that women face in India. I would have given this novel 4* if, there hadn't been so much going on. I would have preferred two novels, one about marriage, the other gay issues.
I would have been very happy with male dominance to be dealt with in both.
Maybe it's me, but I found the word 'Oof' at the beginning of a spoken phrase. I found it irritating how the mother's shoulders always 'sagged' when she went into the bedroom.
But well worth reading, and I do believe there is a voice with this author and there is every promise of fine and worthwhile work from her.
I would have been very happy with male dominance to be dealt with in both.
Maybe it's me, but I found the word 'Oof' at the beginning of a spoken phrase. I found it irritating how the mother's shoulders always 'sagged' when she went into the bedroom.
But well worth reading, and I do believe there is a voice with this author and there is every promise of fine and worthwhile work from her.
April 12, 2016
Found this in my library's "new titles" section. I don't think I would have picked it up normally but it served a good purpose: it provided a light read after some beautiful reads with dark, depressing stories.
The writing is capable but the story is simplistic and not very deep. The difficult issues are handled in a somewhat obtuse way. I do not think the straight story needed run parallel here and in particular, because it was richer and had a more authentic feel to it. In other words, the author should have focused more attention on the more provocative story.
The writing is capable but the story is simplistic and not very deep. The difficult issues are handled in a somewhat obtuse way. I do not think the straight story needed run parallel here and in particular, because it was richer and had a more authentic feel to it. In other words, the author should have focused more attention on the more provocative story.
June 19, 2016
This book is a quick read and the characters are likable. Probably the best part of the book, for me, was that it touched on issues that few other books do, and it does so in a pretty insightful way.
Still, something about this book couldn't quite hold me. Maybe it didn't work for me that it tried to both address serious, nuanced topics and be a pretty light read. It somehow, in the end, ultimately failed at both.
Still, something about this book couldn't quite hold me. Maybe it didn't work for me that it tried to both address serious, nuanced topics and be a pretty light read. It somehow, in the end, ultimately failed at both.
June 14, 2016
I read this book last month and really enjoyed the themes that were touched upon. The characters are people you want to invest time in and the story though set in the past, reflects the state of the Indian mindset right now. I found the first couple of chapters slightly scattered but it helped get the story moving forward and I enjoyed the pace at which it was set.
July 13, 2016
It was a struggle to get through part one of the book, but once I got to part two I couldn't put it down. It would be better to just start at part two and learn about the main characters' pasts as they are slowly revealed - part one was too much unnecessary background.
February 22, 2016
3.5 stars. Pacing was interestingly uneven (couldn't decide if I liked that or not). Writing varied between beautiful and cliched.
October 27, 2015
Frivolous. The writing was okay, but it was pretty pointless. It tried to tackle important issues, but did it in the most meaningless way possible.
November 11, 2015
I picked this book out of a curiosity to see how the author would handle the topic of lesbianism in an Indian setting.
The writing lacked luster and I found myself flipping the pages!
The writing lacked luster and I found myself flipping the pages!
November 19, 2015
This is a fast and entertaining read that explores important issues in modern India. I really liked all of the detail about Indian life, especially the food.
March 22, 2017
This story revolves around the friendship of two women in India struggling with different societal constraints. Very well written I couldn't but care about both main characters and where their lives led.
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