Chick-lit amidst Delhis fading eliteStories from the saccharine-sweet Hindu joint family have been an enduring theme for Indian writers and cinema. Twenty-something Himani Dalmias first book Life Is Perfect is said to be semi-autobiographical,peppered with salacious details observed within her own sprawling family,who at one time,were leading industrialists of India. (Apparently,a reference in the book to a politician upset him so much that he used his clout to dissuade the original publishers,Penguin. Dalmia eventually got Rupa as publisher.) Set in modern Delhi,Dalmia vacillates between chicklit-ish dilemmas,boys,clothes,girlfriends,to larger issues,like the twisted equations within business families. College-going Mitali Jaitia is the quintessential It-girl who mingles in Delhis illustrious circles with ease,rarely venturing out of Lutyens Delhi where she lives in an old bungalow five minutes from Khan Market. Mitali appears to have it all,beauty and money,friends,suitors and lovers. But her home,which she shares with an array of uncles and cousins,is in gloom over the tragic death of her cousin,Peeya. (In reality,Dalmias cousin died in a car crash on a south Delhi flyover a few years ago.) During the crisis,Mitalis parents marriage is floundering and the atmosphere between relatives at home is more strained than ever. Her father,on a heady cocktail of alcohol and antidepressants,is flaunting a new girlfriend and to her hysterical embarrassment,regularly making appearances on the party pages of newspapers. Dalmia writes naturally,limiting herself to a small world of Anglicised elites,of people who by the privilege of birth maintain the appearance of prosperity. They haunt colonial era hangouts,have memberships to the right clubs but as Mitali quickly figures out about her own family,theyre becoming irrelevant in the new economy of wired,ambitious professionals. The Marwari tradition of no onions and garlic in the house continues but the legacy of fiery,astute,businessmen has vanished. Dalmia writes about the pitfalls of inherited businesses and how a surname is no longer enough to sail through life. Unfortunately,these observations are too few and scattered throughout the book,which is mainly a diatribe against Mitalis philandering father. After a point it reads like a journal,going from one nasty example to the next of the fathers wayward ways. The long-winded details of the scheming Page Three girlfriend is meant to leave you aghast,but ends up leaving you cold. If the reader isnt particularly shocked by bad marriages and unpleasant divorces,the sheer length of the accounts of her long suffering mother can be excruciating. Dalmia cursorily touches upon modern life,coke-laden parties and how pretending to be bi-sexual is kind of trendy. She humorously refers to Delhiites preoccupation with the right address and how that can alter your entire social landscape. Other issues that plague most twenty-somethings like future careers and complicated love lives,weight gain and hangovers are summarily dealt with,mostly thrust aside with Mitali wholly engrossed in sorting out her parents legal affairs. The real story of Peeyas death and its impact on the joint family gets lost somewhere in between. Life Is Perfect has its moments of sweet poignancy,but.
