Stop! Isn’t it so wrong to review a novel
solely by comparing it with another, even if the comparison is with what’s
possibly the finest novel to have come out of India? You bet it is. So, let me
say this. Best Intentions is an excellent novel, very well written,
gripping till the end and, if it didn’t run to 348 pages, would have been
unputdownable. I read it over a single weekend though.
Best Intentions is full
of lawyers, of all hues. Nandini is a corporate lawyer, a partner at a leading law firm. Her husband Amar Grewal
is also a partner in the same law firm, but with ‘a shitty practice in an area that
requires you to be a robot, no thinking whatsoever’, one who gets
his deals because of his father. Dhir does not tell us what exactly Amar specializes
in, other than imply that it does not call for the same degree of rigor as her
specialism. Amar’s relatively poor performance at his job, as compared to
Nandini, gives him an inferiority complex, which in turn has a toxic effect on
his marriage. Gayatri, the lead protagonist, is a lawyer turned historian, one with
an anti-right-wing bias, which causes her to hate Akshay, Amar’s pragmatic
brother, who is a litigator just like his father Gyan Singh Grewal. Neelam
Bedi, an escapee from a broken marriage, who is generously accommodated by Gyan
in his office, is a lawyer too.
Since all the lead characters (barring Vikram
Gera, an investment banker) are lawyers, there is no dearth of confrontations
despite the best intentions. However, Dhir’s lawyers, their friends and
families are mostly good at heart and learn, adapt, improve and on the whole,
make the world a better place. Dhir’s standout achievement is her ability to
show both sides of an argument, without harming the yarn being spun.
Dhir’s characters are realistic, too realistic
and each of them comes in 5D. Dhir’s English is effortlessly good, though it is
never lyrical or flowery and the occasional Hindi is not translated. Often
times, Dhir’s characters speak desi English and it just adds to the overall
atmosphere.
There are writers who believe in Karma (who make
sure the baddies get their comeuppance and the good people their rewards) and there
are others who leave karma to God and keep it out of their books. Which way
does Dhir’s Best Intentions go? Please do read Best Intentions to
find out for yourself.
As many other reviewers have already said, there’s
a new writer on the horizon and am anxiously waiting for Dhir’s next novel.
SPOILERS AHEAD
Vikram and his London based boss Akhil Tandon
are colourful characters, pirates actually, who form the perfect counterfoil to
the various lawyers in the book. Vikram is willing to go to any extent to get
what he wants, in this case, getting into Delhi’s moneyed social circle, even
if it means he has to string ‘may-get-married-if-all-stars-are aligned’ Gayatri
along. One keeps wondering why Gayatri can’t see through Vikram and even Akshay
is annoyed on this account. Dhir is so good at making her reader dislike
someone and then do a slow flip.
Gayatri sees everything in black and white, but
towards the end of the book, we see her appreciating the other side’s arguments
and recognising that most people and ideas have a lot of grey in them. The bad
ones, who tormented Gayatri and others working at the Indian History Review,
are maybe not so bad after all? I found myself nodding in agreement more than
once.
Gayatri initially detests Akshay who she finds very arrogant and snooty, though rather good looking, with a bit of grey around his temples. Towards the middle of the novel, as we've been taught by countless Mills and Boon novels, some sparks start to fly between them. However, after Nandini and Amar crash their marriage, it is inevitable that the embers around Gayatri and Akshay are bound to die, or is it?
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