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The Last Song of Dusk
“Set in 1920s India, this magical debut novel tells the story of beautiful Anuradha, whose songs are spellbinding, but whose fate is troubled.”
–Elle
When the astonishingly lovely Anuradha moves to Bombay to marry Vardhmaan, a charming young doctor, their life together has all the makings of a fairy tale. But when their firstborn son dies in a terrible accident, tragedy transforms their marriage into a bleak landscape. As the pair starts fresh in a heartbroken old villa by the sea, they are joined by Nandini, a dazzling and devious artist with a trace of leopard blood in her veins. While Nandini flamboyantly takes on Bombay’s art scene, the couple attempts to mend their marriage, eventually discovering that real love, mercurial and many-hued, is given and received in silence. Sensuous and electric, achingly moving and wickedly funny, The Last Song of Dusk is a tale of fate that will haunt your heart like an old and beloved song.
“A cornucopia of life at full tilt and high color . . . Shanghvi–who’s been compared to Arundhati Roy, Zadie Smith, and Vikram Seth–combines ribald humor with prose poetry.”
–Sunday Oregonian
“Few first novelists achieve such perfection, such control, in their performance.”
–India Today
“A gorgeous novel . . . written with a youthful twinkling eye.”
–Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Lush, witty . . . sassy prose . . . moves like a carnival ride.”
–San Francisco Chronicle
–Elle
When the astonishingly lovely Anuradha moves to Bombay to marry Vardhmaan, a charming young doctor, their life together has all the makings of a fairy tale. But when their firstborn son dies in a terrible accident, tragedy transforms their marriage into a bleak landscape. As the pair starts fresh in a heartbroken old villa by the sea, they are joined by Nandini, a dazzling and devious artist with a trace of leopard blood in her veins. While Nandini flamboyantly takes on Bombay’s art scene, the couple attempts to mend their marriage, eventually discovering that real love, mercurial and many-hued, is given and received in silence. Sensuous and electric, achingly moving and wickedly funny, The Last Song of Dusk is a tale of fate that will haunt your heart like an old and beloved song.
“A cornucopia of life at full tilt and high color . . . Shanghvi–who’s been compared to Arundhati Roy, Zadie Smith, and Vikram Seth–combines ribald humor with prose poetry.”
–Sunday Oregonian
“Few first novelists achieve such perfection, such control, in their performance.”
–India Today
“A gorgeous novel . . . written with a youthful twinkling eye.”
–Los Angeles Times Book Review
“Lush, witty . . . sassy prose . . . moves like a carnival ride.”
–San Francisco Chronicle
336 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
About the author
Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi
9 books120 followersShanghvi was born in Juhu, Mumbai, India in 1977. He is an alumnae of Mumbai’s Mithibai College, and later pursued an MA in International Journalism at the University of Westminster, London, where he specialised in Photography in 1999.
He is an Indian author in English-language whose notable books include, The Last Song of Dusk and The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay. His book, The Last Song of Dusk, has been translated into 10 languages.
He is an Indian author in English-language whose notable books include, The Last Song of Dusk and The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay. His book, The Last Song of Dusk, has been translated into 10 languages.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 196 reviews
June 21, 2023
OK, so having invested far too much time in this book, I am not investing much more in the review. Frankly I am amazed by so many gushing reviews for this book.
Things in this book that didn't work for me:
- It is set in the 1920s. The dialogue is ridiculously modern, it grates against the setting, far too much.
- There is a parrot in the book, which holds full conversations with its owner - rubbish.
- The genital descriptions are ridiculous to the point some actually make no sense: Example: "...a member between his legs that was lonely and strong willed and utterly gorgeous inside its own confusion..." er, what?
- Every character is over the top - the good ones are ridiculously good, the bad ones are ridiculously bad. Too obvious, no realistic flaws.
- There is a character present for a third of the book who is set up as the protagonist, or villain, and yet when the characters move house we don't hear about her again? Weak. She is replaced by a house as the evil character... yes, I know.
- There is a house, who becomes a character - yes magical realism, which when successful can be subtle and provide an ethereal background to a story (even though I am seldom a big fan), however here is is clumsy and the voice of the 'character' of the house is so badly written it seems like it was written by a schoolboy.
As a final point, I was just caught up in the story line. For me, the overwritten nature of the prose, the modern dialogue, terrible characterisation and clumsy foreshadowing distracted from what limited story there was.
The story line had potential, it is an interesting enough overall setup, but didn't deliver for me.
2 stars.
Things in this book that didn't work for me:
- It is set in the 1920s. The dialogue is ridiculously modern, it grates against the setting, far too much.
- There is a parrot in the book, which holds full conversations with its owner - rubbish.
- The genital descriptions are ridiculous to the point some actually make no sense: Example: "...a member between his legs that was lonely and strong willed and utterly gorgeous inside its own confusion..." er, what?
- Every character is over the top - the good ones are ridiculously good, the bad ones are ridiculously bad. Too obvious, no realistic flaws.
- There is a character present for a third of the book who is set up as the protagonist, or villain, and yet when the characters move house we don't hear about her again? Weak. She is replaced by a house as the evil character... yes, I know.
- There is a house, who becomes a character - yes magical realism, which when successful can be subtle and provide an ethereal background to a story (even though I am seldom a big fan), however here is is clumsy and the voice of the 'character' of the house is so badly written it seems like it was written by a schoolboy.
As a final point, I was just caught up in the story line. For me, the overwritten nature of the prose, the modern dialogue, terrible characterisation and clumsy foreshadowing distracted from what limited story there was.
The story line had potential, it is an interesting enough overall setup, but didn't deliver for me.
2 stars.
July 10, 2017
This book is odd to me, because it's lushly written-- I can smell the frangipani that Anuradha braids into her hair, hear the peacocks screeching, taste the dust that rises as the rickshaws trundle down the street-- but at the same time the lushness convolutes and confuses. The author, Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi, has a true talent for description, but sometimes he loses control of himself and indulges in prose that becomes positively violet (especially in the sex scenes with all the phallic worship):
"...the restless, hungry baton in his trousers..."
"...the adamantine sumptuousness of his manhood: a proud, thick, succulent thing had found its home..."
"...a member between his legs that was lonely and strong willed and utterly gorgeous inside its own confusion..."
What in the world does that last one even mean? The "c0ck yay!" enthusiasm gets a bit old after a while, and the attitude toward it becomes, "Yes, yes, we know c0ck is king. Can we get back to the story now?"
...on the other hand, we have little witticisms that amuse me enough to redeem the above indiscretions about 20%, such as the following:
"Are you a star?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I'm an entire constellation."
The pacing is languid, as befits a story set in turn-of-the-century India. It unravels at its own pace, with flashbacks that are handled with subtlety and without feeling intrusive or clumsy. Shanghvi doesn't rush through anything, is in no hurry to chivvy the plot along, but somehow it's all so interesting we don't care and are content to go along with him, trusting him to get us where we need to go.
I'm not crazy about the foreshadowing, however, which occurs with all the finesse of a mallet to the skull. And the dialogue is too contemporary far too often-- doesn't sound in the least like something people in post-colonial India would say in the 1920's. There's a clear feminist theme, here, as well as pro-gay overtones, both of which feel forced, like there's an agenda behind them. I've always felt that if you're going for social commentary in your fiction, it shouldn't hit you like an arrow through the neck.
It's irritating when the vicious old hag of the story (you knew there was going to be one, right?) has entire conversations with her equally malicious parrot, and the anthropomorphization of the house in which they live seems a bit batty. There's a weird quasi-magical subtheme that's more puzzling than intriguing-- a red herring that adds questionable merit to the overall story and is never explained or justified-- and we're supposed to accept it without questioning.
Well, to hell with that. I question, baby, and I want answers: why do the women of Anuradha's family have the ability to work magic with their songs? Is Mohan a prodigy or some sort of divine creature? Is the house really alive and cranky? How is Nandini able to walk on water? Can it be possible for her to be the descendant of a human/leopard union?
The characterization is over-the-top, much of the time: there are three main characters, and they're all bewitchingly attractive, and their faults are never true faults (i.e. things that risk making the reader dislike them). They are, instead, faults that are supposed to make us like the characters all the more: Vardhmaan can't get over the grief of losing his son, but wouldn't we think him a less-than-devoted sire if he sprang back so quickly and easily? Nandini's wild, fey ways are meant to fascinate more than repel (such as when she tells Gandhi his loincloth is hopelessly sexy-- we're supposed to be delighted by that rampant iconoclasty, and it shows).
And the nasty crone, Devi-bai, is a caricature of the evil stepmother... until they move out of the house, and then her wicked influence over their lives abruptly ends. What sort of antagonist is that? No bad guy worth their salt would just let themselves be written out of the book halfway through and let a possessed house take over the role. Unless she's not the antagonist of the story, in which case it should be made clearer because it's confusing.
The book does succeed in submerging the reader into the world of 1920's India, and the characters and plot are compelling enough to keep one reading instead of putting it aside, but overly lurid phrasing, anachronisms of speech, and whacked-out mystic occurrences jolt one's suspension of disbelief and call attention to the ultimate weakness of the prose.
As a first novel, The Last Song of Dusk is excellent, achieving a dreamlike surreality that other, more experienced writers strive (and fail) to accomplish, but in comparison to other authors (masters) of this genre (Isabel Allende, Arundhati Roy) it's clear where he's being imitative, rather than intuitive.
"...the restless, hungry baton in his trousers..."
"...the adamantine sumptuousness of his manhood: a proud, thick, succulent thing had found its home..."
"...a member between his legs that was lonely and strong willed and utterly gorgeous inside its own confusion..."
What in the world does that last one even mean? The "c0ck yay!" enthusiasm gets a bit old after a while, and the attitude toward it becomes, "Yes, yes, we know c0ck is king. Can we get back to the story now?"
...on the other hand, we have little witticisms that amuse me enough to redeem the above indiscretions about 20%, such as the following:
"Are you a star?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "I'm an entire constellation."
The pacing is languid, as befits a story set in turn-of-the-century India. It unravels at its own pace, with flashbacks that are handled with subtlety and without feeling intrusive or clumsy. Shanghvi doesn't rush through anything, is in no hurry to chivvy the plot along, but somehow it's all so interesting we don't care and are content to go along with him, trusting him to get us where we need to go.
I'm not crazy about the foreshadowing, however, which occurs with all the finesse of a mallet to the skull. And the dialogue is too contemporary far too often-- doesn't sound in the least like something people in post-colonial India would say in the 1920's. There's a clear feminist theme, here, as well as pro-gay overtones, both of which feel forced, like there's an agenda behind them. I've always felt that if you're going for social commentary in your fiction, it shouldn't hit you like an arrow through the neck.
It's irritating when the vicious old hag of the story (you knew there was going to be one, right?) has entire conversations with her equally malicious parrot, and the anthropomorphization of the house in which they live seems a bit batty. There's a weird quasi-magical subtheme that's more puzzling than intriguing-- a red herring that adds questionable merit to the overall story and is never explained or justified-- and we're supposed to accept it without questioning.
Well, to hell with that. I question, baby, and I want answers: why do the women of Anuradha's family have the ability to work magic with their songs? Is Mohan a prodigy or some sort of divine creature? Is the house really alive and cranky? How is Nandini able to walk on water? Can it be possible for her to be the descendant of a human/leopard union?
The characterization is over-the-top, much of the time: there are three main characters, and they're all bewitchingly attractive, and their faults are never true faults (i.e. things that risk making the reader dislike them). They are, instead, faults that are supposed to make us like the characters all the more: Vardhmaan can't get over the grief of losing his son, but wouldn't we think him a less-than-devoted sire if he sprang back so quickly and easily? Nandini's wild, fey ways are meant to fascinate more than repel (such as when she tells Gandhi his loincloth is hopelessly sexy-- we're supposed to be delighted by that rampant iconoclasty, and it shows).
And the nasty crone, Devi-bai, is a caricature of the evil stepmother... until they move out of the house, and then her wicked influence over their lives abruptly ends. What sort of antagonist is that? No bad guy worth their salt would just let themselves be written out of the book halfway through and let a possessed house take over the role. Unless she's not the antagonist of the story, in which case it should be made clearer because it's confusing.
The book does succeed in submerging the reader into the world of 1920's India, and the characters and plot are compelling enough to keep one reading instead of putting it aside, but overly lurid phrasing, anachronisms of speech, and whacked-out mystic occurrences jolt one's suspension of disbelief and call attention to the ultimate weakness of the prose.
As a first novel, The Last Song of Dusk is excellent, achieving a dreamlike surreality that other, more experienced writers strive (and fail) to accomplish, but in comparison to other authors (masters) of this genre (Isabel Allende, Arundhati Roy) it's clear where he's being imitative, rather than intuitive.
October 28, 2014
A book that stands close to being a classic.. reading it is like listening to a melody on your vintage gramophone slowly dissolving in your thoughts and still lost as the record ends and the silence becomes a song too. It is one of those books you should never read again, because you would never feel what you felt the first time.
A masterpiece from an author who comes across sensitive and close to the feelings of his characters. He convinces you that Life is nothing but a series of tragedies, some seek the light after the long night and some seem to be lost in the darkness of the night that the night itself becomes the day. The characters of the story are deeply pained, tending and nurturing their sadness in their hearts through their songs, stories and paintings. They give their sadness a shape, a size, a colour that it comes alive and lives with them. The sadness is so overpowering and runs across the story with such strong undercurrents that you seem to relate to the characters only through their type of sadness – the sorrow in their songs, the pain of losing a loved one, the sadness of losing your dreams, the guilt of not being there, the lonely childhood, the farness from home, the words never said and the deeds never done, the longing for your loved one.
To read more:
http://storywala.blogspot.in/2011/06/...
A masterpiece from an author who comes across sensitive and close to the feelings of his characters. He convinces you that Life is nothing but a series of tragedies, some seek the light after the long night and some seem to be lost in the darkness of the night that the night itself becomes the day. The characters of the story are deeply pained, tending and nurturing their sadness in their hearts through their songs, stories and paintings. They give their sadness a shape, a size, a colour that it comes alive and lives with them. The sadness is so overpowering and runs across the story with such strong undercurrents that you seem to relate to the characters only through their type of sadness – the sorrow in their songs, the pain of losing a loved one, the sadness of losing your dreams, the guilt of not being there, the lonely childhood, the farness from home, the words never said and the deeds never done, the longing for your loved one.
To read more:
http://storywala.blogspot.in/2011/06/...
March 14, 2007
Lucky me, I got an advance copy of this book. I read it in maybe 3 days following (and only that long because I had to work!) I had rolled my eyes when I read the comparisons reviewers had made to Salman Rushdie and Arundhati Roy. But he nails it- making the writing of THE LAST SONG OF DUSK arguably more accessible than the works of either.
I am getting ready to reread this one (I NEVER reread. That's how much I liked it), so re-review to come!
I am getting ready to reread this one (I NEVER reread. That's how much I liked it), so re-review to come!
June 8, 2017
A beautiful girl leaves her parents' home to meet her future husband, taking her songs and those of her ancestors to guide her life. What ensues is love...love of family, love of self, love of those who are curiously besotted, love of panthers and flowers and the moonlight on loins/ponds/the balcony.
It's also the book of distance, unbearable loneliness, and death.
This story isn't quite real, but it is utterly compelling. The story is something between a parable and a fantasy, with inexplicable powers and invisible forces. It's a story that grips the reader closely, making you watch the characters and the forest and the moonlight and the monsoon, an experience as close to "real" as anything I've read, an experience paralleled, possibly, by watching a 3-D Imax theater with all of the sensory effects of a steamy Indian life.
The experience of reading this book is similar to reading Garcia-Marquez for the first time, and, when characters do things that are uncomfortable and inappropriate, I watched from inches away and, at the same time, somehow "owned" the actions and words as if they were my own.
While the ending is less powerful than the rest of the book (a shift from experience to explanation), this is one of the most sumptuous, passionate books I've ever read. Not to be missed.
It's also the book of distance, unbearable loneliness, and death.
This story isn't quite real, but it is utterly compelling. The story is something between a parable and a fantasy, with inexplicable powers and invisible forces. It's a story that grips the reader closely, making you watch the characters and the forest and the moonlight and the monsoon, an experience as close to "real" as anything I've read, an experience paralleled, possibly, by watching a 3-D Imax theater with all of the sensory effects of a steamy Indian life.
The experience of reading this book is similar to reading Garcia-Marquez for the first time, and, when characters do things that are uncomfortable and inappropriate, I watched from inches away and, at the same time, somehow "owned" the actions and words as if they were my own.
While the ending is less powerful than the rest of the book (a shift from experience to explanation), this is one of the most sumptuous, passionate books I've ever read. Not to be missed.
November 29, 2018
The Last Song of Dusk by Siddharth Shanghvi is a tale soaked in melancholy and wrapped as a tragedy, written with the objective of ripping your heart out and shredding it into pieces. It starts with the bewitching Anuradha, whose songs caused even the moon to listen, leaving Udaipur to meet her prospective husband, Vardhmaan in Bombay. The two meet and Anuradha is enthralled by Vardhmaan’s ability to tell stories that fill her with awe and inspire in her an admiration for the striking doctor. It is a match and the two tie the knot.
The madly in love couple’s ardour fills every corner of their new home with an unprecedented happiness, an aspect that provokes the ire of Vardhmaan’s vile step-mother Divi-bai. The two are bestowed a blissful blessing in the form of Mohan, their first child, the prodigy who sings, just like his mother, even before he reaches the age of two. Their happiness is, however, ephemeral as an unspeakable calamity hits them forcing the two to separate.
Anuradha and Vardhmaan are reunited but it is evident that their relationship has irrevocably altered. Vardhmaan no longer tells the stories that caused Anuradha to fall in love with him and even the news of a second child, Shloka, is unable to restore the joy that previously existed in their companionship. Divi-bai’s venomous tongue draws them to Dariya Mahal, an abandoned palatial home of an Englishman who died waiting for his lover. The house mirrors the grief that the two carry within themselves, trudging through a life that awards them no mercy.
In Dariya Mahal lives a new guest too, Anuradha’s outlandish, hedonistic cousin, Nandini, whose ancestor is known to have indulged in bestiality. Nandini is an orphaned young painter who wants to contrive her way to the renowned painter Khalil Muratta in order to enter the world of biggies and have access to resources which would otherwise be inaccessible to a girl of her age and background. Nandini yields to a lifestyle that’s reckless and unbecoming for a child but she does what she needs to do in order to overcome a traumatic past and ensure a glorious future for herself. But like everyone else in the story, Nandini’s fate is prone to misfortune too, as her fall comes much too soon.
The book has luscious prose steeped in both the sensual and the sexual. The story has many aspects of magic-realism and yet, the author himself refuses to call it that so I’ll avoid the nomenclature too. It is a story that will stay with you for a long, long time but probably not one that you can reread because it’s a narrative driven more by its linguistic capabilities than its plot.
The madly in love couple’s ardour fills every corner of their new home with an unprecedented happiness, an aspect that provokes the ire of Vardhmaan’s vile step-mother Divi-bai. The two are bestowed a blissful blessing in the form of Mohan, their first child, the prodigy who sings, just like his mother, even before he reaches the age of two. Their happiness is, however, ephemeral as an unspeakable calamity hits them forcing the two to separate.
Anuradha and Vardhmaan are reunited but it is evident that their relationship has irrevocably altered. Vardhmaan no longer tells the stories that caused Anuradha to fall in love with him and even the news of a second child, Shloka, is unable to restore the joy that previously existed in their companionship. Divi-bai’s venomous tongue draws them to Dariya Mahal, an abandoned palatial home of an Englishman who died waiting for his lover. The house mirrors the grief that the two carry within themselves, trudging through a life that awards them no mercy.
In Dariya Mahal lives a new guest too, Anuradha’s outlandish, hedonistic cousin, Nandini, whose ancestor is known to have indulged in bestiality. Nandini is an orphaned young painter who wants to contrive her way to the renowned painter Khalil Muratta in order to enter the world of biggies and have access to resources which would otherwise be inaccessible to a girl of her age and background. Nandini yields to a lifestyle that’s reckless and unbecoming for a child but she does what she needs to do in order to overcome a traumatic past and ensure a glorious future for herself. But like everyone else in the story, Nandini’s fate is prone to misfortune too, as her fall comes much too soon.
The book has luscious prose steeped in both the sensual and the sexual. The story has many aspects of magic-realism and yet, the author himself refuses to call it that so I’ll avoid the nomenclature too. It is a story that will stay with you for a long, long time but probably not one that you can reread because it’s a narrative driven more by its linguistic capabilities than its plot.
February 1, 2017
This book was well written, the descriptions lush and exotic the characters complexly reworked stereotypes that were somewhat larger than life and at times faintly transgressive of the cliche (for example suffering "good" woman- wife and mother- Anuradha as well as devious, alluring whore Nandini are united by more than both being devastatingly beautiful and tragic but by real friendship which did not break down in any of the predictable ways). But they are still stereotypes, especially the females. The book both constructs and deconstructs the heterosexual matrix, just as it both constructs and deconstructs colonialism in India and this I enjoyed. It gave less to the idea of gender, women still primarily were saved or damned in reference to men (even Nandini has....oh but that would be a spoiler) and have motivations that come back to men and children or lack of these.
The book was romantic and irrational, at times emotional to the edge of hysteria and then self-consciously trying to come to terms with its own hysteria in a way I both liked and disliked. At times Nandini's dialogue sparkled with wit and Anuradha's with wisdom, but these could also be slick and obviously lifted from elsewhere at times. Still the richness of the symbolism and the magic realism would appeal to many readers. I didn't accept the fatalism of the book. They had money why not move out of the evil house or travel out of it more? I didn't also accept the necessity of Vardhmaan and Anuradha's two way breakdown in communication or the way the narrative forgave and even sanctified it.
Everything that the characters choose they seem to choose purely to collaborate with the authors intention of creating deep tragedy. Surely most characters would rebel against this? It is hard to have patience with them and the emotional swamps they seem to desire to bury themselves in.
I read it slowly because at times I couldn't bear the slow inevitable march to destruction on every page. But I did find richness at times too and I loved the sudden slash of a critical awareness here or there. If you want "love" to be a dark and swampy thing that moistly eats away at people's hopes then you will celebrate this book. I wasn't fully on board that premise.
The book was romantic and irrational, at times emotional to the edge of hysteria and then self-consciously trying to come to terms with its own hysteria in a way I both liked and disliked. At times Nandini's dialogue sparkled with wit and Anuradha's with wisdom, but these could also be slick and obviously lifted from elsewhere at times. Still the richness of the symbolism and the magic realism would appeal to many readers. I didn't accept the fatalism of the book. They had money why not move out of the evil house or travel out of it more? I didn't also accept the necessity of Vardhmaan and Anuradha's two way breakdown in communication or the way the narrative forgave and even sanctified it.
Everything that the characters choose they seem to choose purely to collaborate with the authors intention of creating deep tragedy. Surely most characters would rebel against this? It is hard to have patience with them and the emotional swamps they seem to desire to bury themselves in.
I read it slowly because at times I couldn't bear the slow inevitable march to destruction on every page. But I did find richness at times too and I loved the sudden slash of a critical awareness here or there. If you want "love" to be a dark and swampy thing that moistly eats away at people's hopes then you will celebrate this book. I wasn't fully on board that premise.
November 19, 2017
I am speechless!
Him inscribing this is painfully magnificent,“Love is bigger than us. So we confuse ourselves over it.And of course, its vastness overwhelms. But then that is the only lesson in life.How to love. How to love well, with a detached eye but a concerned hand.How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly, though, how to never stop loving.”
How easily he defines love in such simple words, no complications.
He amazingly no rather I say magically will bound your soul phrase by phrase.
Vardhamaan and Anuradha Gandharva bound by seven sacred circles make one look India in the 1920s through different eyes.
Nandini never ceases to surprise at any moments.
Absolute elegant piece intertwining each aspect - social, romantic, polticial, intricately.
Him inscribing this is painfully magnificent,“Love is bigger than us. So we confuse ourselves over it.And of course, its vastness overwhelms. But then that is the only lesson in life.How to love. How to love well, with a detached eye but a concerned hand.How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly, though, how to never stop loving.”
How easily he defines love in such simple words, no complications.
He amazingly no rather I say magically will bound your soul phrase by phrase.
Vardhamaan and Anuradha Gandharva bound by seven sacred circles make one look India in the 1920s through different eyes.
Nandini never ceases to surprise at any moments.
Absolute elegant piece intertwining each aspect - social, romantic, polticial, intricately.
February 16, 2009
Read like a poem - the story was out of this world; the writing was a dream to read and the author was only 26 when he wrote this his debut novel. Impressive on all counts and the perfect take-along book to my yoga retreat in Guatemala.
June 11, 2015
I would give this novel a higher rating for the quality of writing alone- the prose is lush and seductive, it has qualities of magical realism, and more than a touch of funny- but writing alone does not make a great story.
The story has to be there and I felt he got off to a good start, a young couple with an arranged marriage who fall in love and lose their son. How is this not enough? But, for him it isn't because he allows a cousin of the protagonist to enter the story, steal the novel, and forgets about its two main characters until the very end where they are dismissive thoughts of their son. Nandini is a a character worthy of her own novel. If... he wouldn't have diminished her wild, savageness by adding the backstory that she got that way by being sexually abused. I detest this in literature. It's a cop out. Let her be a seductively despicable character in her own right without there having to be some reason behind it. Why can't a woman in literature be wicked and wasteful, the one you want to quite like but can't even when you can empathize with the vacancy inside of her?
Overall, the writing was gorgeous. Absolutely spectacular. However, I could never get over the fact that reading it felt like watching a Woody Allen movie and reading Fitzgerald and Henry James at the same time.
The story has to be there and I felt he got off to a good start, a young couple with an arranged marriage who fall in love and lose their son. How is this not enough? But, for him it isn't because he allows a cousin of the protagonist to enter the story, steal the novel, and forgets about its two main characters until the very end where they are dismissive thoughts of their son. Nandini is a a character worthy of her own novel. If... he wouldn't have diminished her wild, savageness by adding the backstory that she got that way by being sexually abused. I detest this in literature. It's a cop out. Let her be a seductively despicable character in her own right without there having to be some reason behind it. Why can't a woman in literature be wicked and wasteful, the one you want to quite like but can't even when you can empathize with the vacancy inside of her?
Overall, the writing was gorgeous. Absolutely spectacular. However, I could never get over the fact that reading it felt like watching a Woody Allen movie and reading Fitzgerald and Henry James at the same time.
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October 9, 2014I am not sure how I actually liked this book. All I can say is after certain portions, I couldn't keep the book down maybe because the burden was just too unbearable. 'In this life, my love, expect no mercy', this kept ringing in my head and I started relating it to my own life.
Extremely well written. I did adore every single line and passage in the book. But still I don't know how to rate this one, whether I liked it or not. So leaving it unrated.
Extremely well written. I did adore every single line and passage in the book. But still I don't know how to rate this one, whether I liked it or not. So leaving it unrated.
March 5, 2017
This debut novel of Siddarth Dhanvant Sanghvi starts as a fairy tale story between two wonderful characters - Vardhamaan and Anuradha . The novel proceeds very swiftly and really like a fairy tale romance . Until , the life happens. Story takes a twist and never becomes back again what it used to be . The story takes another twist when the Dariya Mahal and new characters are introduced . All characters were wonderfully build up and had their unique presence and impact on the story. The prose , language and writing were rich , lucid and and was almost in poems . The another wonderful things were the situation building , description of events and humor going throughout the book .
A very big change in the story occurs when the character of Nandini Hariharan was introduced and later become a pivotal part of the story . But I think the problem with the story started here . The character of Nandini was drawn very strongly that it dominates the entire story and gradually takes over the entire story . The Vardhamaan-Anuradha story becomes like a sub-plot , and while building the Nandini angle , the Vardhamaan-Anuradha angle starts crumbling towards the end, and hence the story starts loosing the balance . The character of Vardhamaan almost disappears towards the end.
Despite these shortcomings the author successfully given closure to each and every character and also a very poetic end to the story.
A Very Compelling Read .
4 Stars .
A very big change in the story occurs when the character of Nandini Hariharan was introduced and later become a pivotal part of the story . But I think the problem with the story started here . The character of Nandini was drawn very strongly that it dominates the entire story and gradually takes over the entire story . The Vardhamaan-Anuradha story becomes like a sub-plot , and while building the Nandini angle , the Vardhamaan-Anuradha angle starts crumbling towards the end, and hence the story starts loosing the balance . The character of Vardhamaan almost disappears towards the end.
Despite these shortcomings the author successfully given closure to each and every character and also a very poetic end to the story.
A Very Compelling Read .
4 Stars .
July 8, 2013
There is a wicked step mother, a haunted house, a parrot that mouths obscenities, a young girl who comes from a linage of women who have supposedly copulated with leopards in the past, a handsome prince and a beautiful princess. Despite the surreal characters and story, The Last Song of the Dusk doesn't border on bizarre or seem fairy tale like-ish. The magical abilities of the characters is something that that author probably doesn't want his readers to take just too literally. They merely provide the background score, adding to the nuances that the characters display. Nandini's walking on water, Anuradha's songs and Vardhmaan's captivating story telling- these are all traits that make you imagine the characters in some ways. For eg. after the death of his son, Vardhmaan recedes into silence, the loss of a son running in parallel to the loss of his storytelling abilities.
Much had been written about Sanghvi's use of vocabulary. Many might think its too boisterous. Many think that in the process to underline his grasp over the language, he has used flashy words which could have been expressed in a simpler way. In certain places I too fell the same, but over all I think Sanghvi manages to tie in the words well to create a style of prose that is highly subject to individual perceptions.
For a contemporary Indian author and his first book, The Last Song of Dusk is worth a read.
Much had been written about Sanghvi's use of vocabulary. Many might think its too boisterous. Many think that in the process to underline his grasp over the language, he has used flashy words which could have been expressed in a simpler way. In certain places I too fell the same, but over all I think Sanghvi manages to tie in the words well to create a style of prose that is highly subject to individual perceptions.
For a contemporary Indian author and his first book, The Last Song of Dusk is worth a read.
August 2, 2018
I read a few of the reviews of this book as I started out reading it and I can see where some of the comments came from, in regards to the latter end of the story. However, I genuinely found the whole novel captivating. It has been some time since I read a book, where I had to pause, to truly savour the writing.
The writing is exquisite and is beautifully poetic at times; the characters are so three dimensional and leave you yearning to continue to follow them. The story itself, whilst often verging on the farce, also deals with incredibly delicate issues - without the reader ever feeling that they are having to confront some incredibly tragic and traumatic ‘issues’ as such.
I can not recommend this novel enough and I am in awe that this was his debut - though Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi the storyteller, shines throughout.
The writing is exquisite and is beautifully poetic at times; the characters are so three dimensional and leave you yearning to continue to follow them. The story itself, whilst often verging on the farce, also deals with incredibly delicate issues - without the reader ever feeling that they are having to confront some incredibly tragic and traumatic ‘issues’ as such.
I can not recommend this novel enough and I am in awe that this was his debut - though Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi the storyteller, shines throughout.
April 25, 2008
Easily one of the best books I've ever read, the author combines history and fantasy so seamlessly. Reading this book was like falling in love. When I was done I wanted to hug and kiss my children, call my friends and family to tell them how much I loved them, and have a good romp with my dog, however as it was something like 3am when I finished I opted to go to sleep instead, lest I be thought of as a lunatic.......or more of a lunatic.
October 1, 2024
I never understood what the magic realism genre was all about - this one enhanced my education over night. For a debut novel - prose is lush and downright beautiful in places. But several portions left me less than comfortable with images and words - it adds to the melancholy of the story no doubt but it also makes me never want to think about the read again - that in my world is never a good sign
January 28, 2008
Warning!!!! This book may not be for everybody. I loved it. Newsweek calls it "an erotic tale of love and loss, loaded with magical realism" I couldn't have said it better. It is very sensual, not to be confused with sexual. So romantic, tragic, lovely.
December 17, 2011
Finally, a book that makes me pause, lean back and disappear into thought. Every sentence is poetry.
October 22, 2024
THE LAST SONG OF DUSK - Siddharth Dhanvant Sanghvi
Genre - Literary Fiction, Magical Realism
Winner of the Betty Trask Award in the UK
Winner of Premio Grizane Cavour in Italy
As I turned the last page, a vivid scene unfolded before me like a film: a girl treading water, a woman singing like a nightingale with the moon listening, a woman shacking up with a panther and carrying cat-blood in her veins, and a bungalow so vicious and vile that it seeks to destroy the happiness of its inhabitants. Did you notice what I did there? I’m trying to compel you to read this masterpiece, because it’s a book truly worth your time.
The lyrical prose leads us into the lives of Anuradha and Vardhaman, whose tender love story begins with chicken sandwiches, hopes, and dreams. All seems fair and good until a strike of lightning and the ill-will of a spiteful mother-in-law send them spiraling into an abyss from which there is no return.
The imagery is powerful, and the lifestyle feels progressive for the 1920s (which it was), featuring British and Irish characters who become part of their soirées. Echoes of real-world events are evident as the characters rub shoulders with Gandhiji, “The Visiting Whitepeople,” Khalil Muratta (a figure reminiscent of M.F. Hussain), and even the amusingly named Rakshasa Junta party, which opposed the “mini-sari” debacle.
Beneath the whimsical and humorous narrative lies the book’s true heart: a couple afraid to love too deeply for fear of being hurt again, a wild girl whose spirit is scorched, and the tender friendship with a woman who has a hole in her heart. And then there’s little Shloka, the observer of their follies, who ultimately emerges unscathed despite bearing the weight of their mistakes.
A beautiful book that brought me to tears and made me reflect on love, loss, togetherness and melancholy of life.
Genre - Literary Fiction, Magical Realism
Winner of the Betty Trask Award in the UK
Winner of Premio Grizane Cavour in Italy
As I turned the last page, a vivid scene unfolded before me like a film: a girl treading water, a woman singing like a nightingale with the moon listening, a woman shacking up with a panther and carrying cat-blood in her veins, and a bungalow so vicious and vile that it seeks to destroy the happiness of its inhabitants. Did you notice what I did there? I’m trying to compel you to read this masterpiece, because it’s a book truly worth your time.
The lyrical prose leads us into the lives of Anuradha and Vardhaman, whose tender love story begins with chicken sandwiches, hopes, and dreams. All seems fair and good until a strike of lightning and the ill-will of a spiteful mother-in-law send them spiraling into an abyss from which there is no return.
The imagery is powerful, and the lifestyle feels progressive for the 1920s (which it was), featuring British and Irish characters who become part of their soirées. Echoes of real-world events are evident as the characters rub shoulders with Gandhiji, “The Visiting Whitepeople,” Khalil Muratta (a figure reminiscent of M.F. Hussain), and even the amusingly named Rakshasa Junta party, which opposed the “mini-sari” debacle.
Beneath the whimsical and humorous narrative lies the book’s true heart: a couple afraid to love too deeply for fear of being hurt again, a wild girl whose spirit is scorched, and the tender friendship with a woman who has a hole in her heart. And then there’s little Shloka, the observer of their follies, who ultimately emerges unscathed despite bearing the weight of their mistakes.
A beautiful book that brought me to tears and made me reflect on love, loss, togetherness and melancholy of life.
October 20, 2024
In the Bombay of 1920s, at the junction of changing times where the elite, anglophile Indians bathed in the comfort of the Raj awoke to the rallying of freedom, Anuradha and Vardhmaan start an idyllic life. Anuradha, whose beauty and melodic voice melted and broke hearts, and Vardhmaan, whose genteel refinement quickened heartbeats, find themselves challenged by fate when their young son tragically dies.
Shattered but encouraged to live, they find solace in Dariya Mahal, a dilapidated, wild house with a history of melancholia and unrequited love, and piece together fragments of their past companionship. They are joined by Anuradha's fiery cousin, Nandini, a bohemian artist with feline fierceness and a tendency towards recklessness. We follow what becomes of the trio.
The book has a flowery, descriptive style of expression which I took a few pages to get into, but once I did, I sank within. Mr. Shanghvi absolutely knows how to turn a phrase, and I found myself underlining so many delicious lines ("the most dignifed chaperones in her candlelight tryst with destiny", "immersed in the pond of an unspeakable tragedy", "a discus of imagination whirling out paint" etc.)
In turns funny and melancholic, the book touched upon how trauma leaves lasting scars upon its survivors, and even the ones attuned to seeking life find it challenging to move forward. Vardhmaan ends up internalizing his trauma within a silence he never escapes whereas Nandini ends up becoming an inflictor of it in her callous treatment of some of the characters. Only Anuradha comes across as someone who longed to improve her fate but was dragged down. Overall, all of them needed therapy, haha.
I enjoyed reading it so much that I went out and purchased Mr. Shanghvi's next novel 'The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay' before I had finished this. I'm delighted that I got the opportunity to read a book like this because I raised my hand and HarperCollins was kind enough to oblige. Thank you!
Shattered but encouraged to live, they find solace in Dariya Mahal, a dilapidated, wild house with a history of melancholia and unrequited love, and piece together fragments of their past companionship. They are joined by Anuradha's fiery cousin, Nandini, a bohemian artist with feline fierceness and a tendency towards recklessness. We follow what becomes of the trio.
The book has a flowery, descriptive style of expression which I took a few pages to get into, but once I did, I sank within. Mr. Shanghvi absolutely knows how to turn a phrase, and I found myself underlining so many delicious lines ("the most dignifed chaperones in her candlelight tryst with destiny", "immersed in the pond of an unspeakable tragedy", "a discus of imagination whirling out paint" etc.)
In turns funny and melancholic, the book touched upon how trauma leaves lasting scars upon its survivors, and even the ones attuned to seeking life find it challenging to move forward. Vardhmaan ends up internalizing his trauma within a silence he never escapes whereas Nandini ends up becoming an inflictor of it in her callous treatment of some of the characters. Only Anuradha comes across as someone who longed to improve her fate but was dragged down. Overall, all of them needed therapy, haha.
I enjoyed reading it so much that I went out and purchased Mr. Shanghvi's next novel 'The Lost Flamingoes of Bombay' before I had finished this. I'm delighted that I got the opportunity to read a book like this because I raised my hand and HarperCollins was kind enough to oblige. Thank you!
October 20, 2024
“In this life, my darling,there is no mercy.”
The last song of dusk by Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghavi is a fast paced book with a plot based on 1920 revolving around Anuradha and Vardhaman.
The prose started with a bang (yet too forward for 1920) it was quick with diverse characters. The protagonist’s Vardhman and Anuradha have a lovely relationship post marriage and soon they have a Son. A tragic accident leads to the death of their Son and their life turns upside down.
Anuradha goes back to her parental home and meets her cousin, Nandini who is enigmatic and plays a vital role in the book.
For me, the book turned out to be a little bit predictable. The auxiliary characters liked the speaking parrot and the evil mother-in-law were bizarre. I found only bits of magical realism with themes of feminism, difficult relationship etc.
The last song of dusk by Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghavi is a fast paced book with a plot based on 1920 revolving around Anuradha and Vardhaman.
The prose started with a bang (yet too forward for 1920) it was quick with diverse characters. The protagonist’s Vardhman and Anuradha have a lovely relationship post marriage and soon they have a Son. A tragic accident leads to the death of their Son and their life turns upside down.
Anuradha goes back to her parental home and meets her cousin, Nandini who is enigmatic and plays a vital role in the book.
For me, the book turned out to be a little bit predictable. The auxiliary characters liked the speaking parrot and the evil mother-in-law were bizarre. I found only bits of magical realism with themes of feminism, difficult relationship etc.
July 4, 2018
I cannot believe how bad this book is. The story seemed promising but the descriptions and the way the story moves was awful. I am not sure if it's supposed to be a sarcastic book but the way it drops names & talks about the Page 3 people is cringe worthy.
I just felt the author was trying too hard to be cool. Or maybe I didn't get the book at all; maybe there's some deeper meaning beneath all the jazz.
I just felt the author was trying too hard to be cool. Or maybe I didn't get the book at all; maybe there's some deeper meaning beneath all the jazz.
September 1, 2017
Heartbreaking at times with descriptions so vivid you could picture yourself in India with them. I agree with the Sunday Times a magical piece of storytelling. The sex scenes were a bit comical though. I would definitely read another book by this author.
March 15, 2021
Un peu difficile de rentrer dans ce monde mais une fois qu'on est pris, on ne lâche pas le voyage qui nous est proposé ici
March 7, 2022
I really wanted to like this book. It sounded like a fantastical tale of a couple in India that experiences love and grief. But so many bad things keep happening over and over to the characters that they do nothing to avoid that it’s like a frustrating bad dream.
May 28, 2020
Magical and slightly mythical feel to this story of love and life. So much loss and tragedy but hope still shines through. its an unusual story with fantasy and truth entwined to provide such distinct imagery.
July 8, 2022
Some books tell you stories. Then once in a while comes a book, that shows you one. Like a movie. ‘The Last Song of Dusk’ is a story of loss, of love, of longing, and everything in between. It is written to rip out your heart, and admire it bleeding. It is meant to have melancholy rent a corner in that heart and live there eternally. It defines love in many forms, through stories, through music, through art, through humans, and yet none of that is enough, for love itself is never enough. What then are we looking for, living for, longing for, and rooting for?
"What she was really moonstruck about was his knack for telling stories. “My beloved storyteller, she thought. Tell me not this story.”"
Anuradha and Vardhamaan are made for each other, it is not just their picture-perfect chemistry but also their life which is the ultimate fairytale one could ask for. And that’s when you know that something’s about to happen, because sure enough tragedy awaits lurking in the corner to strike at the most happiest moment. And it does and how! When the charming couple lose their son, Mohan, the child wonder, their life tumbles into an abyss from where there is no recovering. The songs Anuradha sings, a legacy the Patwardhans inherit, cannot heal her anymore. Vardhmaan’s stories that were the bridge for their love all-pervading is broken to bits. And what ensues is a long silence in the form of separation where both the bleeding hearts try to find solace in a world that seems no place for them.
"How lovers alter in the glance of each other, that space where their moods are accepted and their surrender is never taken advantage of."
Dariya Mahal is every bit charming, every bit magical, every bit hypnotic, as it is haunting. And that’s where Vardhamaan takes Anuradha to start their life afresh. Along comes the boisterous and bold, with the blood of leopard in her veins, Nandini, Anuradha’s cousin and an aspiring artist who’s only wish is to climb up the ladder of fame and fast. She can do little to salvage the deteriorating passion between Anuradha and her husband. Together, these characters make a startling platter which is a generous serving of tragedy, humor, wit, magic, class, elegance, and poetry, in fair amounts.
"That love and loathing, joy and distress, quietness and noise, all eventually blur and one is left wondering where one started and the other ended."
The prose is as beatific as hounding, as enriching as enthralling, as sensual as shocking, and somewhere between reading and living their lives, you are lost and drowning in their collective tragedies. There, that's the inordinate talent oozing from the pages, and evocative of the author’s baronial imagination and style. Nothing is lost and yet little’s left within you when finally you emerge from its pages. M K Gandhi and Virginia Woolf make cameos. Anuradha and Vardhamaan will lurk in your reveries long after you’re done. ‘The Last Son of Dusk’ is every bit a poetry in prose.
‘The Last Song of Dusk’ is a dazzling debut, right from its cover to its characters, its plot to its settings, its language to its mood. A masterpiece that does not deserve to be shelved as a debut, but a debut is what it is, and a magical one at that! Pick it up, I couldn’t press enough.
"What she was really moonstruck about was his knack for telling stories. “My beloved storyteller, she thought. Tell me not this story.”"
Anuradha and Vardhamaan are made for each other, it is not just their picture-perfect chemistry but also their life which is the ultimate fairytale one could ask for. And that’s when you know that something’s about to happen, because sure enough tragedy awaits lurking in the corner to strike at the most happiest moment. And it does and how! When the charming couple lose their son, Mohan, the child wonder, their life tumbles into an abyss from where there is no recovering. The songs Anuradha sings, a legacy the Patwardhans inherit, cannot heal her anymore. Vardhmaan’s stories that were the bridge for their love all-pervading is broken to bits. And what ensues is a long silence in the form of separation where both the bleeding hearts try to find solace in a world that seems no place for them.
"How lovers alter in the glance of each other, that space where their moods are accepted and their surrender is never taken advantage of."
Dariya Mahal is every bit charming, every bit magical, every bit hypnotic, as it is haunting. And that’s where Vardhamaan takes Anuradha to start their life afresh. Along comes the boisterous and bold, with the blood of leopard in her veins, Nandini, Anuradha’s cousin and an aspiring artist who’s only wish is to climb up the ladder of fame and fast. She can do little to salvage the deteriorating passion between Anuradha and her husband. Together, these characters make a startling platter which is a generous serving of tragedy, humor, wit, magic, class, elegance, and poetry, in fair amounts.
"That love and loathing, joy and distress, quietness and noise, all eventually blur and one is left wondering where one started and the other ended."
The prose is as beatific as hounding, as enriching as enthralling, as sensual as shocking, and somewhere between reading and living their lives, you are lost and drowning in their collective tragedies. There, that's the inordinate talent oozing from the pages, and evocative of the author’s baronial imagination and style. Nothing is lost and yet little’s left within you when finally you emerge from its pages. M K Gandhi and Virginia Woolf make cameos. Anuradha and Vardhamaan will lurk in your reveries long after you’re done. ‘The Last Son of Dusk’ is every bit a poetry in prose.
‘The Last Song of Dusk’ is a dazzling debut, right from its cover to its characters, its plot to its settings, its language to its mood. A masterpiece that does not deserve to be shelved as a debut, but a debut is what it is, and a magical one at that! Pick it up, I couldn’t press enough.
November 16, 2009
beautifully written. erotic. sad. compelling. colorful.
a story about an Indian family, the people around them, and the many different ways they deal with love, loss, betrayal, abuse, and grief. packed with colorful characters that are both charming and annoying at the same time, it is a tale certainly worth reading. a nice blend of magical realism and history. and the pace kept me forever on the edge of my seat (or bed, should i say). i finished reading it overnight. it isn't light on the emotions but it sure is refreshing.
a few highlighted lines:
"'It's bigger than us,' Anuradha accepted. 'So we confuse ourselves over it. And of course, its vastness overwhelms. . But then that is the only lesson in life. How to love. How to love well, with a detached eye but a concerned hand. How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly, though, how to never stop loving.'"
"When you think about it, it's crazy, all the things we carry inside us - and these are precisely the things we're just bursting to tell. How do we go through life like this, huh?"
a story about an Indian family, the people around them, and the many different ways they deal with love, loss, betrayal, abuse, and grief. packed with colorful characters that are both charming and annoying at the same time, it is a tale certainly worth reading. a nice blend of magical realism and history. and the pace kept me forever on the edge of my seat (or bed, should i say). i finished reading it overnight. it isn't light on the emotions but it sure is refreshing.
a few highlighted lines:
"'It's bigger than us,' Anuradha accepted. 'So we confuse ourselves over it. And of course, its vastness overwhelms. . But then that is the only lesson in life. How to love. How to love well, with a detached eye but a concerned hand. How to understand and surrender to its countless contradictions. Most importantly, though, how to never stop loving.'"
"When you think about it, it's crazy, all the things we carry inside us - and these are precisely the things we're just bursting to tell. How do we go through life like this, huh?"
September 8, 2020
I am not sure how anyone likes this book. It should be just one giant trigger warning.
There is:
Child death
Molestation
Rape in the form of underage sex
Infanticide
Domestic abuse
Premature births due to trauma
Orphaning and abandonment of a child
Most of this is wrapped up in making one female character have an “interesting” back story that will explain her precocious, and allows her to be groomed by an older artist to be his muse. This is all written in a way that makes it seem like she is taking charge of her own sexuality. It is disgusting because everyone just accepts it. Plus doesn’t really served the plot, she could have been aged up easily.
Some elements, like the child death, was a huge plot point that could have been powerful but really just served to introduce us to the more “interesting” character. Once she was around, that was basically dropped.
There is:
Child death
Molestation
Rape in the form of underage sex
Infanticide
Domestic abuse
Premature births due to trauma
Orphaning and abandonment of a child
Most of this is wrapped up in making one female character have an “interesting” back story that will explain her precocious, and allows her to be groomed by an older artist to be his muse. This is all written in a way that makes it seem like she is taking charge of her own sexuality. It is disgusting because everyone just accepts it. Plus doesn’t really served the plot, she could have been aged up easily.
Some elements, like the child death, was a huge plot point that could have been powerful but really just served to introduce us to the more “interesting” character. Once she was around, that was basically dropped.
January 29, 2008
If you read this book, don't judge. And you will know what I mean if you do decide to read this. It was recommended to me by one of the employees at my usual airport bookstore.
I really did enjoy the read. It is a sad and eloquent story about love, loss, and relationships - however bizarre they might be. Though I didn't always agree with what the characters decided, I did sympathize with them.
And of course how could I forget the most important part of reading this book -I learned more about India and being Indian so I can strive to be like Nipa Saraiya and Kate Patel.
I really did enjoy the read. It is a sad and eloquent story about love, loss, and relationships - however bizarre they might be. Though I didn't always agree with what the characters decided, I did sympathize with them.
And of course how could I forget the most important part of reading this book -I learned more about India and being Indian so I can strive to be like Nipa Saraiya and Kate Patel.
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