There are two Manu Josephs. One, Manu the author. Two, Manu the journalist. The first is an inspiration while the second is a warning. In his previous two books, Manu the journalist took a backseat and Manu the author – capable of staining the blank page with words of timeless wisdom - shone through. In this book, however, exactly the opposite has happened.
First and foremost, this book should be deprived of its “fiction” tag. The only fictional element here is the lame name changes done to (barely) mask the identity of well known, real-life public figures. This book is essentially an extended, heavily biased, opinion piece laying out the author’s thoughts on a particular case that rocked India over a decade back, and continues to emit aftershocks. Although I will avoid spoilers, anyone with a fair command on current affairs will be able to guess the real-life equivalents of the book’s characters and its plot, just a few pages into it.
The book’s best part – the author’s quintessential, though grossly generalizing, barbs against human rights activists – also turns out to be its most ironic. In presenting a completely one-sided view of important real-life events and the people involved in it, while ignoring all evidence to the contrary, Manu exposes himself as an activist, and perhaps a cowardly one at that, for his activism hides in the garb of fiction. I should mention here that asking tough questions is the job of a journalist, but asking them in a way so as to turn public opinion favourable to one’s own is not only irresponsible, but also dangerous. But then, as I said, Manu the journalist is a warning.
Of course, not everything about the book is bad. Despite all his biases, it's highly admirable that for Manu, there are no holy cows, not even Raghuram Rajan. The interviews Akhila conducts with some of the most towering personalities of our times are surreal and hilarious. Like his previous works, this book has Manu’s signatures – underdog male characters, strong female characters, and of course, words of timeless wisdom. Although the beginning seems jagged due to far too many interjections by the author’s voice, it soon picks up pace and reads like a thriller. It’s a given that the enjoyment readers gets out of this book will be directly proportional to their ignorance about the goings-on of the world. The plot twist towards the end is admirable, too.
I’ll leave you with some gems that only Manu is capable of writing:
“Hope is a premonition of defeat”
“There is no evidence of Damodarbhai’s guilt except one. Hindus adore him and they can’t explain why.”
“Damodarbhai is not right, Damodarbhai is not wrong. He is a secret thought that people have already thought.”
“You can defame love by calling it madness, which only confirms its existence.”
A character’s response when his daughter asks him why he stays in India despite disliking it so much - “India is a wound. But it is not a wound like a whiplash. It is a wound, like a spouse.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll always be yours because no one else might want me or I might be too frightened to stray, for that is what faithful men are, unwanted or cowards.”
Wait, I forgot to ask the most important question. Considering the entire book is based on true events, what if the man under the rubble turns out real, too? If he does, I will go back the very day and change this review, as well as my thoughts on Manu the journalist. Till then, I hope to read more of Manu the author.