A Fine Pulp

Arora is a semi-alcoholic private detective with the usual baggage of an almost divorced wife, a much-loved daughter and a troubled past. Called in to investigate the disappearance of an accountant (and more importantly, the 10 crore he was carrying), Arora soon finds himself embroiled in a brutal tandoor murder (pun unintended) that has shocked the city.

The writing is as pedestrian as the streets of Delhi of which the author is so cynical about. Arora can barely cross a road in the capital without seemingly being assailed by all manner of stenches or tripping over an open sewer. And, of course, he’s frequently stuck in traffic. His apathy for Delhi and her denizens aside, he still manages to create a somewhat compelling character in Arora, and his corrupt businessman/ shady politician friend, who is naturally called Bunty (shudder) and lives in Lajpat Nagar with his joint family. The plot lines are a bit blurred and the pace is plodding, but Dead Meat still manages to remain readable, largely thanks to Arora’s characterisation and Saikia’s observations on the class disparities that plague the country. Perhaps, you can peruse it while stuck in traffic too.