Boston Brahmin’s Widow opens with the promise of a riveting story set against the backdrop of the Singur- Nandigram episode in West Bengal where the ruling CPI(M) forcefully tried to acquire land from the farmers for an ambitious project. Narrated by the lead character, Kobi, the author paints the love story of a man who tries to seek warmth and companionship from the widow of one of the most important political figures of West Bengal.
It is the year 2008. The story begins with the assassination of Jon, the Deputy Chief Minister of Bengal. Kobi, whose equation with Jon keeps fluctuating between friendship, acquaintance and that of a leader and his admirer is informed about his death. Divorced Kobi who keeps flitting between India and England and Jon’s widower Joba, both pushed into the cavern of loneliness by the cruel hands of destiny, start seeking solace in each other. The bubble of enchantment that covered Kobi the first time he met Joba ripens into love after Jon’s death. Joba’s feelings oscillate between the love for a dead husband, the latent desire for the companionship of Kobi that give her a respite from the spell of the trauma and grief of her husband’s assassination and the subsequent colouring of her emotions by the unsaid social and cultural precepts that shackle a widow in our country.
Bhattacharya’s attention to detail in the depiction of the characters, especially the women characters, stoke the reader’s imagination. The amorous, brazen Monami whose swanky dress sense and good looks ensure that the showering of attention from the opposite sex never ceases, the coy and demure Jhinook whose troubled marriage to Kobi’s best friend Ajit, transforms her completely and Kobi’s ladylove Joba whom the author portrays as someone miraculously adept at maintaining her composure in the most turbulent times: the women characters in the novel come across as those of flesh and blood. However, the reader does get a sense of the author having indulged in the stereotype that women are highly capable of manipulating men for the fulfillment of their personal interests. Monami’s not-so-subtle invitation to Kobi for some intimate moments in order to make her husband feel guilty (as conjectured by the narrator), her bossing around while travelling with the author Jhinook’s extraordinary demand to Kobi to buy her husband’s share of her matrimonial house: the author has dyed the women characters with a common tinge of selfishness.
Boston Brahmin’s Widow creates an ideal setting for Kobi and Joba’s romance to blossom with the right mix of passion. However, Bhattacharya’s treatment of the love story comes across as somewhat flippant. The narrative keeps shuttling between the past and the present with the author delving unnecessarily into his numerous romantic escapades. With only a handful of pages dedicated to Kobi and Joba’s burgeoning love and with Joba being more conspicuous throughout the story by her absence than her presence, the crux of the novel becomes too shaky. To add to it, the sudden reciprocity of love from Joba after her character’s long hiatus in the novel in which the author tries to string together random memories and characters, coupled with the half -baked revelation of Monami’s jealousy towards Kobi and Joba' intimacy leave the readers with a sour aftertaste. What could have been a promising read due to the author’s dexterity in using words for creating the right effect, ends up disappointing. All in all Boston Brahmin's Widow does not make for a memorable reading experience due to its badly tailored plot.