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Sanjay Versain’s Pee for Protest takes off from Anna Hazare’s 2011 Jan Lokpal movement to explore protest, drugs and deceit

The novel’s action takes place in Himachal Pradesh with prose that rejects decoration like the author’s journalism

Pee for ProtestDedicated to a journalist, the late Vepa Rao, and written by a journalist, the novel has persons without designation and prose without decoration. (Pic: Amazon)

Pee for Protest (Rs 399, Ukiyoto) by Sanjay Versain is a catchy title, though it would have been catchier had it been called Hashtag Himachal, the hill state the writer’s words hide but his roots reveal. Because in Himachal Pradesh, where the novel’s action takes place, protest is a flickering candlelight that pops up now and then. Neither does anyone blow it out, nor does it blow anyone away. The book follows a boy looking to find himself in a time period that roughly resembles Anna Hazare’s 2011 Jan Lokpal movement. As he participates in a series of protests, he sets off an interplay of identities, drugs, deceit, marijuana and hashish — or hash.

The novelist is in complete control of the characters Nachiket, his protagonist, encounters. There is a sudden surrender to the senses in front of an unnamed 5’5” beauty in a dark Delhi hotel room. There is no room to bow to desire in front of a woman dancing wildly in the wild. He escapes from there, reaches a rave party in the middle of the night and in the middle of the jungle, and ends up being accused of raping an Israeli woman when he wakes up the next morning. Before this, he faced the charge of raping another foreigner.

Already on the run from the law, Nachiket pleads innocence and protests — it is the weakest protest as it moves no one and melts no one.

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The strongest protest is lodged by the mind against the body whenever the protagonist soul-searches on coming close to a sex worker, a ladylove or a scheming shaman. His conscience pricks him repeatedly, speaks to him repeatedly.

The strangest protest featured in the narrative is when a Thermal Devta’s opinion is sought on the desirability of a hydel power project.

Excitement as well as other emotions find a free flow, as do gurgling rivers and cascading waterfalls in the writer’s wide weed world, a wild and wonderful place. It has a breathtaking view of a village and a valley; a Chabad House charm and an island of Israel; a paraglider’s paradise and its take-off and landing points.

At times, the language leaves the reader on a high: “Familiarity shrouds the visible, and unfamiliarity reveals nothing”, “Downpour continues and anxiety swells. Tea brings in some respite and calms down the torrent within.” On the flip side come expressions like the “back side” of a temple and “in” the spur of the moment. Ah, the editing errors and the punctuation pockmarks! The main character’s mental monologue meanders at many places.

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Dedicated to a journalist, the late Vepa Rao, and written by a journalist, the novel has persons without designation and prose without decoration. It gives the latter a likable literary introduction beyond the five journalistic Ws (who, what, when, where, why) and one H (how) – and how!

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