I have not come across much by way of Indian detective fiction (I have heard about Ray’s Feluda series but not read any of it). And then all at once, I read several such books (with some Indian connection – the author, the detective, the setting). And I enjoyed them all, to various degrees. No heavy-handed stuff about caste and poverty (except as context in an easy, non-wearying manner), no moralizing, no angst – is this a sign that Indian fiction is coming of age?
It started over a year ago with Six Suspects by Vikas Swarup – it has been too long since I read the book and I cannot remember much of it now (except that it had deep shades of the Jessica Lal killing – and wisps of other incidents one vaguely remembers reading in the newspapers).
Then I picked up Piggies on the Railway by Smita Jain. I had read Jain’s earlier book Kkrishna’s Konfessions, a cheeky look at the Indian television industry dominated by the likes of Keta Kapoor – the main character is a story-writer for a popular soap called ‘Kangan Souten Ke‘ and enjoyed it.
Piggies features the kick-ass Katie (aka Kasthuri Kumar) as the private detective called upon to detect several fishy goings-on in the Hindi film industry. Plus, she is a first of sorts in Indian writing, a main-stream character (and not a “bad woman” / vamp) who sleeps with three different men in the book (a female James Bond, if you will). The book has already been described rightly as chick-lit meets detective fiction. If you like reading either genre, pick it up some time for a light read.
A nice quiet holiday came next – Aditya Sudarshan’s book about a murder set in a small town somewhere in Uttaranchal is about young law clerk Anant’s holiday in Bhairavgarh that turns out to be anything but nice and quiet. The book has loads of atmosphere thrown in – stories of the supernatural that fills the mountain air, protests about an AIDS report that an earnest “NGO-type” couple has published, gender and power dynamics in India – that make for good reading.
And recently, I picked up The Case of The Missing Servant by Tarquin Hall – a book I had heard a lot about. The detective here is Vish Puri, India’s ‘Most Private Investigator’ (uh oh, that should have warned me to be ready for the funnies) who usually finds himself investigating the suitability of prospective brides and grooms ready for marriage. Here, he is called upon to investigate the missing servant, on behalf of the rich businessman who is suspected of having murdered her.
Puri also finds himself investigating (and fobbing off his mother’s attempts to do likewise) an attempt on his life as well as another pre-matrimonial case. While the story is engaging enough, Hall’s attempts at describing the India of suburban Delhi rankles – mummyjis who ought not to be detectives, arranged marriages that remain sacrosanct and characters who keep reverting to their homes at the end of the day’s work get rather tiring after a while. Puri himself however, is a likable character who is not entirely comfortable in the “sab chalta hai” milieu of Delhi. I look forward to more of Puri – if only the author tones down his ‘Indianisms’ in future books….
And finally, my favourite character – the best find of the lot – the Inspector Singh Investigates series by Shamini Flint. I read the first one – A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder (how could I resist a title like that?) and was hooked. I immediately bought the other two in the series and liked them equally – ok, the Bali one not so much but that is partly because the standards set by the Malaysia and Singapore novels were so high that Bali fell a little short of my expectations. Both Singh and Flint are based in Singapore and find themselves out of their depths in the boondocks of rural Bali.
However, you cannot help but like and admire the character of Inspector Singh – complex, upright, honest, blunt, sensitive and partial to his drink and rest. The favourite whipping boy of his superiors in the Singapore Police Force for his unkempt and flabby appearance and unorthodox methods, Singh however, always produces results. And the these are always surprising. And thoroughly entertaining. Go read Shamini Flint’s Singh now – I cannot wait for more.