The Honest Season by Kota Neelima : A Review

BOOK TITLE: The Honest Season

ISBN/ASIN: B019EWKBDU

AUTHOR: Kota Neelima

GENRE: Political Thriller

NUMBER OF PAGES: 310

FORMAT: Digital / Kindle

SERIES / STANDALONE: Standalone

HOW I GOT THIS BOOK: I thank WritersMelon for this review copy

SUMMARY:

2 political rivals fighting for power

1 journalist caught in the battle

6 tapes secretly recorded in Parliament

1 government with a lot to hide

Sikander Bansi, an unlikely political heir in Delhi, secretly records politicians in Parliament as they haggle to become cabinet ministers, bag defence contracts, dodge criminal charges and collect corporate largesse. Among them is a rising leader of the People’s Party, Nalan Malik, whose success has come through unscrupulous means.

When Sikander suddenly disappears, Mira Mouli, a newspaper journalist with an unusual gift for knowing people’s thoughts, receives the controversial Parliament tapes along with clues to find him. She is attracted to Sikander’s principles and is wary of Nalan’s deceit. But her powers of knowing tell her a different story, one that she can unravel only at the cost of her life. From the bestselling author of Shoes of the Dead, this is a disturbing political fiction that reveals why Parliament functions behind gates closed to the public.

FIRST IMPRESSION:

The Honest Season is a book that held my attention from the word go. The summary seemed succinct, clear and simple enough to enthrall the reader in me. I had not tried political thrillers for a long time and the good meaningful ones are hard to come by. So it was with equal parts of expectation and doubts that I picked this book up.

The cover revealed nothing special, but it seemed muted and sensible, to suit the sombre mood of the story. The last line of the summary made me want to delve into the book as soon as I got the chance on the digital copy. I finished it in two sittings, over the course of a single day (today. I got the book yesterday).

REVIEW:

It take a lot of courage and proper sense to write a political thriller. And even more sense to carry it off convincingly.

The Honest Season is a book that would make for a sensational movie. That is not the first reaction I have about books, and I am not a huge fan of books being turned into movies. To be honest I despise them, being of the opinion that they ruin the original story. But this book, if made into a book with the proper directions, this would be exciting from start to finish. Most of the length of the book is in its descriptive narrative, something I feel could have been edited out for casual readers, but they would make a good base for a thrilling movie.

The story is about the parliament in Delhi and a MP doing a expose on his fellow MPs and other bureaucrats with a series of recorded conversations. Sikander Bansi is a dashing young MP with a very low profile who seems superficial at first glance. He serves his term for a little more than four years, collecting evidence and collating stories. And he goes into disappearance and releases the tapes one by one to the press, specifically to one newspaper that employs 'know journalists' - people who have special abilities to perceive the subtle layers of complexities in the human mind. He chooses Mira Mouli, a particularly talented journalist who can discern people's unspoken thoughts by merely speaking to them once.

In a thrilling journey where he sends controversial content as recordings to her, each ending with a very personal, deeply affecting clue that is directed towards Mira which he claims would lead her to him. Mira struggles against the demons of her past, finding more of herself in Sikander's words and the way he seemed to easily read her thoughts. Meanwhile, Nalan Malik, an exposed MP, doggedly follows Mira, something that she finds frightening, disconcerting and strangely comforting at times. She could read the concern in his eyes but is sure he is lying. Big heads fall, and the country's political fray is threatened out of its comfortable existence. What happens next? To what extent would Mira go to uncover the truth? These and some other questions form the premise of the rest of the story.

What works for the story is its narration style. I was really affected by the way the author spoke about public apathy over public property and how Newspapers were losing their relevance in the advent of media and technology. It was in her words that she weaves the magic. Sikander's first note chilled me in the way it was worded, and the clue that was directed towards Mira. I felt the connection with the author more than once while reading the book. It is amazing how much of a thrill just a few words could bring. I felt a tangible jolt when I read about the farmer Gopi, and the way he mingled with the crowd and was everything that a poor migrating farmer in urban India reflected it. The incident with the red beaded shoes and every part of the whole memory affected me deeply, and that was again because of how it was written.

The words are the story's USP, the narration not slackening until the second half. What I found lacking in the story was tighter editing. Though the wordy events really increased my interest towards it, my reading speed reduced greatly in the second half because the expose was done and dusted and the reaction part of it seemed longer than the preparation leading to it. There were times when I was torn between wanting to read more of the beautiful writing and wanting to get to the end of the story quickly to make sense of it. The politically correct sardonic climax did little to satiate my thirst for a novel conclusion. But as I completed it in a single day, I realised that the story had drawn me in completely and I had fallen, hook line and sinker.

Mira's skepticism regarding politics, love and everything related to life made her an interesting protagonist, one that I would be vary of but still read with interest. I loved how she responded to situations and found the meaning to the clues in her own way, resilient and strong, just how I would like a female protagonist to be. The romantic interest in the second half seemed melancholic and at times forced, though it clearly explained a lot of things in the story. Overall, a thrilling ride, and though I had a self made deadline to finish it, that was not the reason I read it in a day. The book held enough to interest me and I would take away a lot of things from this book to be stored in the recesses of my memory.

Here are few gems I found and would remember for some time to come.

On corrupt government officials and the public reaction

The officer had been unafraid as he had walked back into his building, as if he knew the public wouldn’t bother if he stole from them; they never did. Yes, people would not let him get away if he had touched their homes, their furniture, their vehicles or their parking slots. But their roads, their bridges, their trains? These could be stolen from them anytime. Just like their drinking water.

On the advent of telivision and breaking news making newspapers almost obsolete

that 800 words of the most thought-provoking newspaper story were equal to roughly a thirty-second ‘wrap’ on television.

Come die with me any way you want, but not alone.

Rain was a portable memory now, not an experience anymore.

Delhi itself was restless, as if had it not been tethered to the power centre, it would have wandered away along any one of the national highways that crossed it.

You shouldn’t say such things, makes me want to prove you wrong.

Always remember: in a riot, the cruelest side wins.’

It took time to realize it was her gift that separated her from the rest, the power to see the invariable truth all the time, without choice, without relief. It robbed her of her mirages, the necessary falsehoods required for happiness. And ironically, none of her special powers could tell her anything about the parents who had abandoned her or the reason for their decision.

What’s the difference between blood and rain? One flows over the skin, the other under it.

That’s the way he hates, Mr Vasudev, without a chance for reconciliation.’

He chose his fictions, whereas she was assigned her truths.

She watched the cement of the building indifferently receive the rain and channel it to the waiting drains.

A man who could see into the future of his rivals and manipulate their present was blind to his own heart. That was his only mistake.’

what I don’t have in mementoes, I make up in memories.

And like an honourable person with a clear conscience, Delhi was very good at forgetting.

She felt strangely insufficient without him, as if he was functionally important for her to get through a day.

‘Knowing you made my life worth living, worth waking up for,’

I’m vulnerable only when I choose to be, lonely when I want to be.’

‘Although I packed diligently, there may be things that I leave behind. Put them in a dusty corner somewhere, so you won’t stumble upon them everyday. And throw them out of your heart,’ she met his devastated eyes with satisfaction, ‘when you make space for someone else again.’

He carried his pain like a secret letter in his heart, folded between past and future, hidden in every sliver of time.

‘Love is for birds and garden benches,’ she whispered. ‘You think of it beautifully, with colours I have never known before, like looking through a magical glass at a new world. But it also shatters to pieces when I want it to be true.’ ‘Then try looking at it through my eyes,’ he suggested.

From the author's note:

If the words ring true and the incidents trigger a sense of déjà vu, please attribute them to my realistic imagination. I do not write to blame, I write to change. And I hope this is the season for it. It always is.

Special Mention : Placing the epilogue after the author's note - I am not even sure I should mention this in my review, but I almost missed the important part!

WHAT I LIKED:

• The story and the cleanly done expose
• Mira as a character. And Salat.
• I would read more and more works of the author, just for the way she sways me with her words.

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER:

• The book needs tighter editing, considering the genre it belongs to.
• The second half after the expose seemed to drag a bit, with more and more underlying elements and explanations slowing the pace
• The politically correct ending dampened my excitement.

VERDICT:

A poetic political thriller.

RATING: 4.5/5

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kota Neelima has been a journalist for over twenty years, covering politics in New Delhi, India. She is Senior Research Fellow, South Asia Studies at The Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced international Studies, Johns Hopkins University, Washington, DC. Her recent academic research in India on perception seeks to develop a structure based on rural and urban voter choices .Her previous books include the bestselling Shoes of the Dead and Death of a Moneylender, among others. Also a well-known painter, Neelima’s works are a part of several collections in India and abroad, including the Museum of Sacred Art, Belgium.

EDITIONS AVAILABLE: Paperback, Digital

PRICE Rs. 198.55 for Kindle, Rs. 206 for Paperback

BOOK LINKS: Amazon