Utterly, flutterly, delicious, umm... hilarious

The Diary of a Social Butterfly
Moni Mohsin
Random House, India
228 pages
Rs195

A South Bombay acquaintance once told me about a woman in his part of the city who snootily informed her friends that she flew Business Class only. ‘The dirty, filthy liar was caught out,’ he’d crowed triumphantly, ‘someone spotted her in Economy!’ I don’t know this dirty, filthy, lying snob (thank heavens), but I do think she would be able to completely identify (erm, secretly, though) with Butterfly, the heroine of Moni Mohsin’s book.

The Diary of a Social Butterfly is not a novel really, but a compilation of Mohsin’s columns for The Friday Times spread over a number of years. Each witty chapter is complete in itself so you have the freedom to dip into it now and then, or read it at one sitting (like I did). No polite muffled giggles here —  the book is packed with laugh-out-loud moments, so do not, I repeat, do not attempt to read it in public places — you may be unceremoniously marched off to the cuckoo’s nest. Hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Butterfly is, in her own words, ‘very sophisty, smart and socialist’ (as in socialite, not a Karl Marx groupie). She lives the life of the rich and vacuous in a posh part of Lahore and is terribly busy shopping, meeting her beauty therapists, attending parties, playing games of one-upmanship with her friends, gossiping with mummy, bad-mouthing her in-laws and watching Ekta Kapoor serials. Oh, and she loves travelling too — her favourite holiday destinations happen to be Dubai, Singapore and Harrods!

However, the sun is not shining brightly and birdies are definitely not singing sweetly in Butterfly’s personal world. Her husband Janoo (who ‘went to Oxford in London, and from there he came back three years later an Oxen’) has radically different values and interests.  Her constant whine is that he prefers doing ‘bore things’ like watching documentaries and reading instead of accompanying her to parties. Their interactions are vastly amusing and almost always end with Janoo retreating with a pained expression.

Wicked wicked Moni Mohsin has had a ball tearing her silly heroine into shreds — ooh luverly! Despite the dead posh school and college Butterfly brags about having attended, her spellings are atrocious, and she speaks god-awful Pinglish (Punjabi English). I must add here that Mohsin, who is evidently more ‘sophisty’ than her heroine (even if she didn’t study at the same swank educational institutions!), slips up frequently, interspersing the Pinglish with Brit slang — a bit incongruous, that. Butterfly has no social conscience either, and frequently does a Marie Antoinette on her house elves (‘They say they can’t afford atta. So don’t eat atta, baba. Eat rice. Or still better, cut out carbs altogether. Do Atkins, like me.’). Now be prepared for a bigger shock:  it’s quite possible that an Anthocharis Stella/Genus Butterflyus/Whatever is more politically aware than this social Butterfly.

Mohsin has underlined Butterfly’s air-headedness by giving the chapters a double title. Take this heading, for example: 37 dead as terrorists bomb London. Butterfly wonders whether she will ever get a UK visa again

Her own petty concerns come first, but fortunately for Janoo, as things turn out, Butterfly does have a change of heart and he finally looks at her with a hint of respect.

Well, the vaguest of hints, but come on, that’s a beginning for him! For me though, Butterfly’s transformation was a bit of a downer — I sorely missed her incredible silliness.

I highly recommend this book — not just for the laughs but the trenchant social satire too.  While not everyone may love Butterfly, I’m willing to bet everyone will love her inanities — unless, of course, they cut too close to the bone!

The reviewer is a novelist