See, I want to make my publisher's life easy. I am like that. I have written a small book blurb about what my novel "Mr. Bandookwala, M.B.A., Harvard is all about. It brought a bit of satisfaction, as if the project will propel itself to completion and publication. Feels good.
Freshly equipped with an M.B.A. from Harvard, Mr. Bandookwala (meaning man of guns) doesn't understand why his management theories consistently fail to work in his home country. He had the brilliance to conceive the social network Facespook, he worked in Google, yet, in the city of his birth – Bombai, the urbs prima Indiae he loves and hates by turns – he is rejected, ostracized, discriminated, frustrated and broken by powerful people, maybe, because he is the colour of monsoon clouds.
And, as if to add to Mr. Bandookwala's problems, though he has never held a gun in his life, guns are pointed at him wherever he goes: in the slums of Charavi by Bombai's underworld don, in the verdant Azad Maidan by a private detective, and in a five-star hotel by an extremist who has come to kill indiscriminately. He escapes from all these encounters by his wits and, providentially, from the extremist because he is a Parisi. In an apocalyptic moment he loses his job, gives up on his marriage, and fights to get his divorce annulled, in the process trying to take custody of his daughter Priyanka, whom he loves dearly.
Through his debut novel Mr. Bandookwala, M.B.A., Harvard, the author gives us glimpses of a modern Indian city, warts, profanities, and all, as it is, unapologetic about the city’s stinking slums, encroached streets, musty bordellos of Colaba Causeway, conceited rich who live on hills, and corrupt politicians.
How's that? Let me know what you think.