Strange Obsession, Shobha De

Strange Obsession, by Shobha De

As strange confessions go, here is one - I hadn't read a single of Shobha De's books till recently. Not one. Not even leafed, browsed, flipped pages of one. Shobha De, 'Cycnicism in chiffon', as a Bollywood superstar had once described her, the queen of sleaze prose, founding editor of gossip rag, Stardust, the 'Jackie Collins of India', a homegrown bestselling author, female icon, and more. And then, one day, on a whim, I picked up Strange Obsession from Bookworm. If Krishna, the proprietor's, eyebrows went up a smidgen, I didn't notice. 

First published in 1992, it is the story of Amrita Aggarwal, a beautiful girl from Delhi who moves to Bombay (as the city was called in 1992, when the book was published, till it became Mumbai) to become a model. A supermodel, at that. And she does. The young, nubile girl attracts the attention of many. Among the many is a mysterious woman named Minx (Meenakshi, actually). Minx is attracted to Amrita in more ways than one, is infatuated and obsessed with Amrita. Minx is well-connected and powerful; she can make or break careers, with a snap of her fingers. She can even make people disappear, again, with a snap of her fingers. Everyone knows it, and yet no one does anything. Such are the ways of high society in Bombay, evidently.

Amrita has to walk a fine path between securing her career and her personal safety on the one hand, and deciding how far she wants to give in to Minx's demands and desires. Yes, you get the plot. As expected in such a book, the chapters often end on a cliffhanger, sex is interspersed throughout, with glistening bodies and whimpering sounds punctuating the awkwardly written amorous scenes. There is a hint of danger around the corner, and when it does come, it leaves you untouched, much like the writing about loins and groins. The characters are enigmatic and exhausting, by turn. Butter paper used in baking is thicker than the characters.  

But I could see why someone would pick such a book up. It's a welcome escape from heavy, serious reading. It is short enough to be finished on a Bangalore-Chennai flight, with time for coffee. As you discreetly discard it in the trash can on your way to the baggage claim area, you wonder about money spent and time gone. 

At the end of it all, there remained a nagging, persistent question that kept popping up - I had read this before. No, not the actual book, but its elements. They were familiar. The writing style. A foreign author? Perhaps. Jackie Colins? No, never read her. Then who? 

Where had I read this angst-ridden output, this amateurish prose, the phrenetic use of adverbs like "suddenly", "glumly", and the obligatory spraying of scenes of homo sapiens mating which were as savoury as sawdust, and a plot that exists like the Yeti. 

And then, one day, the clouds parted. This was Wattpad before there was a Wattpad. Except it was there decades ago. Written by someone with access to a Tier-1 publisher.

Yes, time and place matter.

Connections matter.

Writing skill? Not so much.



© 2024, Abhinav Agarwal (अभिनव अग्रवाल). All rights reserved.