A reviewer’s life is not without its rewards. For once in a blue moon a book comes along that possibly wouldn’t be a first pick in a bookstore but reveals itself to be a rare gem.
One and Three Quarters by Shrikant Bojewar is a brilliant novella about a lad called Langdya who has difficulty passing Class VII. Based on this simple premise, the author weaves a marvellous work of social satire set in a tiny village in Maharashtra where life is simpler but not a stranger to complexities.
Naru Pingtya owns the local bar where Ajabrao drinks every evening. Later he climbs the roof of his house and sometimes sings abhangs in praise of Lord Vitthala. Gengane, the local schoolteacher, is also a regular; while his wife is set on seducing Langdya.
There’s a crisis that calls for great improvisation because Langdya has tampered with his failed marksheet and fears his father’s wrath. When he spots the music teacher Mrs Deshpande going towards the deserted fort at the edge of the village, he tells Habib Sir and Gengane about it.
To Langdya’s great fortune, it is Dhamale the headmaster that she goes to meet. Langdya accidently falls into his role of a fixer because fear of exposure makes Dhamale sign his matriculation form. Not only does he clear that, he also clears his Class XII. He discovers he has a natural talent for being a dalal.
As a fixer, he is as masterful as he is without a moral compass. He is fated to cross paths with a tomcat named Latthya and discovers they understand each other in a shared language. With Latthya by his side, he has access to far more powerful information.
The author’s style is a restrained form of storytelling, almost minimalist. Yet he sketches the life around the local bar, each school teacher, the parents and Langdya himself with essential details.
Interweaving the village cats and their dalliances while making them to be the more progressive species, adds a special note of whimsy. Though when the scene shifts to Mumbai, Langdya is an adult and deals with real politics: “He soon learned that the journalist who walked with a chip on his shoulder in his territory was treated worse than a dog when he came to the newspaper’s headquarters in Mumbai. If that reporter filed 10 news reports, the paper published only two of them.”
What stands out is the biting satire, often stated in a matter-of-fact manner. “Anyone who has some knowledge of politics and who knows someone in a TV channel becomes a political analyst.”
The translator Vikrant Pande must be given his due for conveying the style impeccably. More, gratitude is owed to him for this delightful book that enchants and tickles the funny bone in equal measure