Contradictions and paradoxes are far more ubiquitous than one may believe them to be. This fundamental assumption is something that often runs into walls, when it comes to questions of human morality and ethics. Theory is often slapped by practicality and that’s what this book beautifully builds on.
To say that GMOG is a book about female empowerment would be an overstatement. It stops one step short of it, and in that actually goes one step ahead. The book has a dark vibe, the vibe that leaves you feeling that all the events narrated in this murder mystery are happening during a season of torrential rains, with dark grey clouds, with bleakness abound. My heart wept with each chapter of the book, as I struggled with the core question of the cost of freedom one has to pay, and how regressive even the positive spin that society gives to the Devadasi system can be. An interesting perspective that did woo me was the beautiful exposition of the art of dancing, and how the performing arts went to the heart of the devadasi system. I was left wondering about the unspoken language of dancing, and how each pose, posture, mudra, step and even gesture conveys a thousand ideas, and secondly, how something so poignant can transport not just the performer, but also the viewer, into a world unknown.
Talking about this book in detail might give away its mystery, and that’s what it is at its heart. A murder mystery. But I beg you to place that at the back of your head, and experience this book as a memoir. That advice generally applies to all pieces of fiction, but somehow acknowledging that these events were largely a reflection of reality for some will make you think and wonder about what we as a society had condoned.