Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line - Deepa Anappara - ★★★★.¼

AUTHOR: Deepa Anappara

GENRE: Indian contemporary mystery.

PUBLICATION DATE: February 4, 2020

RATING: 4.25 stars.

In a Nutshell: A crime mystery set in contemporary India. Excellent character development, realistic setting, outstanding use of child narrators for a mystery. Incorrect expectations of fantasy because of the title and the first chapter. Literary in approach. Colloquial in writing. Recommended.

Plot Preview:

Nine-year-old Jai stays with his family in an overcrowded slum. He lives a carefree, uncomplicated life going to school with his elder sister Runu (an aspiring athlete) and his best friends Pari (a desi Hermione) and Faiz (who balances school and work). Everything changes when kids from the locality start disappearing. Faiz suspects that it is the work of djinns while Pari is convinced that focussing on the more immoral residents of the area might be a better idea. The trio decide to form a detective team. Unfortunately for them, some shady elements decide to tinge the disappearances with communal hues, creating a furore.

The story comes to us in the first-person POV of Jai and third-person perspectives of various other characters.

Bookish Yays:

🪔 The main trio: Jai, Faiz, and Pari. Street-smart and yet not worldly enough. Each has a distinct personality and together, they form a memorable set of protagonists.

🪔 Many of the secondary characters, but especially Runu (I just loved her clarity of purpose) and Jai’s parents (for shattering the clichés of low-income parents.) I also liked ‘Mental’ in his limited role, and wish there had been more of him. All the characters are nuanced.

🪔 The decision of revealing this dark story through children’s perspectives. Makes for a strange contrast when we see such horrid happenings coming from innocent eyes. Cleverly done.

🪔 The lack of a specific location. We can see that the story is set in contemporary India in a sprawling slum setting of some metropolis, but is this urban location in Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, Gurgaon, Kolkata, Hyderabad? It could be anywhere, and that is its brilliance: specific and general at once, thereby free of locational restrictions and relevant to the whole nation without any ‘Such things happen only there’ kind of denial.

🪔 The interlude narratives from the missing children’s perspectives. I feel like I got to know those kids better even though they weren’t a part of the main storyline directly. More importantly, this decision helps us to see the missing children not as some vague unknown character but as an actual person.

🪔 The character-driven writing for a strongly plot-based work. Again a juxtaposition that is tough to pull off, but the author manages it.

🪔 The handling of the Hindu vs. Muslim sentiment dominant in so many parts of India, without turning it into a stereotypical caste/class issue. The finger-pointing is rightly aimed at political and local ‘goondas’, both of whom exist only to further their own power by spreading religious bigotry. It’s sad how many citizens (even educated ones) fall prey to their fake narratives.

🪔 The depiction of the ‘slum’. At first, I was worried this would go the ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ way, with nothing but filth and poverty highlighted. But the author manages to show the heart of the slum as realistically as its dirt. The story isn't just about the stress or fights or struggles; it is about the closeness and concern these people share with each other, with their hearts being far bigger than their houses. I truly appreciate the genuineness of the narrative.

🪔 The author's note at the end. She says she didn’t want the book to be another stereotypical narratives set in the slums of India. So I just want to tell her: You have done complete justice to this worthy aim.

Bookish Okays:

🦚 The language. To be honest, this is more Yay than Okay for me. I am not too happy about the literal translation of a few idioms (idioms like being a "wet cat" and seeing something "black in the dal" aren’t meant to be translated verbatim from Hindi to English) but overall, the language is mostly on point. The tone is quintessentially Indian; only we desis will understand the inoffensive absurdity of ‘Mental’ being a nickname and of grasping the deeper nuances in terms like “roadside Romeo”. All the Indianisms and Hindi words add the perfect authenticity to the story. Indians will get the connotations best; for the rest of the readers, there’s a detailed glossary at the end. There are some cuss words as well, but this is true-to-life and nothing beyond what Indian movies in similar settings show.

🦚 The ending. It is so good and yet so disappointing. I wish it could have told me more. I wish I could tell you more.

Bookish Nays:

👻 The title just doesn't indicate the plot accurately. It creates such different expectations However, the “djinns” aspect is mainly decorative and the ‘purple line’ (which is a Metro route) is just in the background.

👻 The first chapter about ‘Mental’ and his role in the lives of street kids. Because of this chapter, the title and a couple of other inclusions, I had assumed the story to follow a fantastical path. Either this chapter could have been chucked out or the paranormal elements handled more extensively.

Overall, though I had expected this to be more of a fantasy-mystery than a crime mystery, I am still quite happy with the way it went. The character-driven storytelling, the gritty realism of modern-day India and its religious and political complications are brought out well by the compelling story.

I don’t like to read books set in India but written by Indian-American authors, because they peddle only hackneyed tropes to the USA. (A part of the blame for this also lies with US publishers.) But Indian expat writers who’ve settled in other countries are rarely guilty of the same sales-focussed shamelessness. Author Deepa Anappara was born and brought up in India, but moved to the UK in her adulthood. Her writing hence retains the pulse of the country without distorting its culture or exaggerating its flaws. In many ways, this hardhitting novel reminded me of Megha Majumdar’s equally fabulous ‘A Burning’. (Majumdar is one of the few Indian-American authors I will gladly read.) Both books – coincidentally, both debut works – highlight true India without bias.

Readers who like to have all I’s dotted and t’s crossed might not enjoy this book. But to those who like the challenge of a character-driven mystery, who know that not everything in life can be settled, and who acknowledge that our contemporary politicians are the true criminals of our society, spreading hatred and division in what was once a country epitomising unity-in-diversity, I strongly recommend this book. I know it will ruffle a few feathers among certain immature readers. To them, I can only say: wake up before it’s too late.

Definitely recommended. Remember that it is strong in mystery, not so much in fantasy. Go in blind.