Over and again

It is safe to say that Ratika Kapur’s Overwinter is one the best books I have read in a while. Like old family silver, which one is happy to chance upon, and yet whose true worth lies hidden from the surface by layers of grime and oxidisation, the beauty of this maiden venture is not immediately apparent and hidden behind a veneer of surprisingly visceral writing. The more time one invests in polishing, and immersing oneself under the epithelial of the print, the more one discovers the gleam, and the true wealth of this story.

Kapur, a Delhi-based writer, speaks of what she clearly knows. From references to Nizamuddin kebabs, clubs and Gurgaon traffic, to the subtle yet knowledgeable machinations of Delhi’s ‘good’ society, Kapur’s setting appears almost life-like. Her characters too, are both real and familiar. The protagonists are few, with the interesting yet confounding Ketaki Khanna (KK) at the helm. The supporting players also, right  from KK’s coach-loving school friend Priya, family retainer/driver Om Prakash to KK’s men — Adil, Krishnan and Siddharth, all echo excerpts of people we may have known once.

Her trying and sometimes frightening relationships with her family form the centre around which the book is framed. Frightening because KK could be one of us. Good schooling, US-returned, working, independent in thought and conviction — KK reminds us of an adventurous, sometimes risqué cousin or friend, often envied, sometimes scoffed at, definitely worth considering for membership but somehow maintaining enough ambivalence to remain on the fringe. What is intriguing about her, as is with those of similar ilk, is her ability to maintain a facade of so-called normality during an emotionally disturbing time.

KK’s predilection for the finer things — French Chablis, jazz and Prokofiev amongst others, somehow makes her cosmopolitan composure more fascinating yet pitiable at the same time. It is her need to find the ‘remarkable’ that seems to guide her actions throughout, especially her trysts with men.

Kapur’s prose is peppered with certainties — her confidence in this first book shines through. And it should, for it is a very impressive first novel. Even though she speaks of familiar faces and places, the story itself is told in such an enticing way that it is bound to keep the reader engrossed till the last page. Some may think it to be a ‘woman-centric’ novel. And indeed, it is. It is told from a woman’s point of view. Yet her words flow so easily over you, it is definitely worth your time, whoever you maybe. Or want to be

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