Contrary to what others have to say, I liked Sakina’s Kiss as much as I liked Ghachar Ghochar. Both books have a certain amount of quietness to them, something that makes you want to read them on a Sunday when the whole world slows down. I’m glad Srinath Perur has translated of both novels because he never misses. The essence of the story is transferred intact from Kannada to English. In Sakina’s Kiss, we see Venkataramana, a middle class man who fails to see his own misogynistic side. The story is set at a time when our country is changing and evolving socially and politically and we see Venkat struggling to understand his teenage daughter’s progressive views. A sudden involvement of goons into their normal life shakes Venkat and henceforth begins a slow unravelling of the story.

Although the story may seem normal on the surface, it brings together a lot of interesting topics. We see a patriarchal head who is paranoid about his wife and daughter keeping secrets from him, fails to acknowledge change, and parrots lines from the many self help books that he reads. I’m quite certain that many of us growing up in the late 80s and early 90s have someone like Venkat within our families. He doesn’t trust liberal journalists and secretly believes condescending things a politician says about women. What really amazed me was the accuracy with which Shanbhag managed to capture this image of an Indian man who believes himself to be the perfect husband and father while carrying these backward notions in his head.

Sakina’s Kiss reads like a slow burn mystery but in the end, it turns out to be so much more than that. But I also feel that his books probably wouldn’t be everybody’s cup of tea. He has a very nuanced way of writing and making statements through minute details that strikes a chord with the audience. But I’d highly recommend you to give it a try.

Thank you for the advance copy @penguinindia.