'Priya In Incredible Indyaa' explores the shallow world of Delhi’s Darlingjis

Priya In Incredible Indyaa
Namita Gokhale
Penguin Viking
194 pages
Rs350

Priya Kaushal is a housewife in her fifties. But not an ordinary housewife. Her husband is Minister of State for Food Processing, Animal Husbandry, Fisheries and Canneries, which makes her a woman of consequence - a position she rather enjoys. Her sprawling colonial bungalow in Lutyens’ Delhi is a far cry from the cramped 1-BHK apartment in suburban Mumbai where she was brought up. She is so grimly determined to hang on to it, she deliberately blocks out the fact that her husband cheats on her repeatedly. Indeed, Priya even becomes friends (albeit reluctantly) with an insufferable glamazon she suspects her husband is having an affair with — she hastily swallows her resentment when the glamazon gives her a sexy Dior handbag. Oh, and perhaps the fact that she still has feelings for BR (her first boss, first lover — indeed the only man she’s truly ever loved) helps dull her pain.

Namita Gokhale’s elegant prose sweeps you into the shallow world of Delhi’s Darlingjis — politicians, arms dealers, vapid socialites, ruthless gold diggers, Bollywood-has-beens — and let’s not forget, numerologists, who are evidently a life support system for India’s power hungry citizens.

Fortunately, you’re not stuck in that toxic atmosphere from start to finish, because every so often, Gokhale yanks you back into Priya’s real world, that of her family. In her interactions with her sons and her personal musings, we see her softer side. Granted Priya is a social wannabe, but she also has a very active social conscience. And here’s where the real strength of the novel lies — it is actually a look at India as it is today, warts and all. Priya frequently makes observations about SEZs, the IPL, poverty porn, Maoist sympathizers — oh the works.

While this is no wickedly funny laugh-out-loud satire like Moni Mohsin’s Diary Of A Social Butterfly, some of the barbed remarks do make you smile. As a result of which you can’t help but warm to Priya Kaushal. But not as much, not even half as much as you did when you first met her in Gokhale’s 1984 cult novel Paro: Dreams Of Passion. There she was absolutely marvellous: vulnerable but resilient, intriguing, intelligent and an engaging narrator — someone you’d love to introduce to your family and friends. In Priya In Incredible Indyaa, however, Priya comes across as a pale imitation of her former self. Ah well, I know Priya is almost 30 years older now, but as someone who still cares about her, you can’t blame me for feeling sorely disappointed that age knocked the best out of her. 

Rupa Gulab is the author of Girl Alone