Twenty-six year old Nandini Sharma is a girl who, like most girls in India, has been taken over by Bollywood. She falls for her neighbor Aditya Sarin. He is filthy rich and fairly intelligent.
Three primary reasons why this book failed to charm me:
- I read the author’s second book before this one, which is her debut work.
- I take a personal offence to her opprobrious mention of my hometown, Ulhasnagar, in context of fake stuff being manufactured here and expensively sold.
- I picked up this one immediately after I finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird.
It doesn’t halt here, however. The editing is way too laxed. Punctuation marks are erratically thrown around, often ending up changing the meaning of sentences. As if that wasn’t enough, the story line is so jumpy, with POV pronouns adding to the already created confusion, that finishing this book needs some effort.
The book is a quick read, with the author not choosing to dwell on unnecessary stuff but sometimes it became so quick that I felt I was reading the outline for a scene rather than the scene itself. The end lacks the treatment it deserves and is wrapped too quickly, another put-downer.
Coming to point no. 2 of my primary reasons for disliking this book, this isn’t something I would’ve expected of an author of Varsha’s calibre, whose second book, Only Wheat Not White is exemplary. I wished not to read the book beyond the point I encountered this sad reference, but my commitment refrained me from doing so.
The author’s naivete comes through. But you know that she is serious about her craft when you read her second book, which I think is her saving grace from more of my ranting.
The book is a decent effort, and as a writer myself, I appreciate it. However, there was too much that wasn’t paid attention to.
If you’ve read this one and are as disappointed as I , pick up Only Wheat Not White and your spirits shall be lifted. If you haven’t, no harm done if you decide to skip it.
I give this book 2/5.