[amazon_link id=”1451613261″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ][/amazon_link]Title : The Case of the Love Commandos
Author : Tarquin Hall
Genre : Mystery
Publisher : Simon & Schuster
Publish Date : September 8th 2013
Pages : 320
Source : Netgalley/Publisher
Rating : 4/5

This is the second book of the Vish Puri series that I have read; I’ve also reviewed “The Case of the Missing Servant”. The central character Vish Puri, is a portly Punjabi private investigator based in New Delhi. In this book he tackles the case of two star-crossed lovers. His associate Facecream is helping an outfit called the Love Commandos in assisting young people who want to marry out-of-caste. In orthodox India, this is a big no-no, so resistance is expected. However when Ram Sunder, a Dalit man, and Tulsi, daughter of Thakur Vishnu Mishra, decide to marry, Tulsi’s family takes serious umbrage; Ram is kidnapped and his mother is killed. Facecream calls Puri for help and he, enroute to the Vaishno Devi shrine, sidetracks his way to Agra.

There is also a sub-lot involving Vish’s Mummyji and her suspicions about Duggal, a man who is also making the trek to the Vaishno Devi shrine. Mummyji thinks his behavior is suspicious following a tip-off by Vish, but her attempts to alert the local police fall on deaf ears and it is up to Mummyji to actually do something about it.

Every time I read Tarquin Hall I am amazed at how adroitly he captures the Indian milieu in his writing; it suggests a deep familiarity and strong affection for the place. Not only are his descriptions of the Punjabi-ness of the Delhi-ite folk spot on, even his portrayal of Puri’s relationship with the rest of his family rings true – a little overdone for comical effect, but true. Puri is a food-loving Punjabi man. And he has a domineering Mummy. Mummyji calls him Chubby and won’t heed Vish’s advice. His wife Rumpi will though so he calls her instead when he has instructions to be followed to a T. Then there is Elizabeth Rani, Puri’s assistant (he calls her “Madam Rani”), who has the office running while Puri gallivants around on his sleuthing adventures. And then there is Facecream, Tubelight, Handbrake, DoorStop and other creatively named operatives employed by Puri.

Hall’s characters speak in true colloquial, Indian English, like “Kindly don’t do time-waste”. Grammatically incorrect questions are (hilariously) answered with stubs of other grammatically incorrect questions; I’m laughing out loud reading this stuff. Simple statements are also questions:

Puri stepped into the corridor and dialed his wife’s number.
“Chubby, that’s you? Hello? You’re on another train, is it?”
“Mummy-ji, why are you answering Rumpi’s phone?”
“Just she’s currently indisposed. Something is the matter? Some tension is there?”
“No tension, Mummy-ji,” Puri lied, feeling his stress levels steadily rising. “Just I–”
“One moment hold. She’s reverted.”

Puri is good-naturedly conceited about his abilities, insisting that nothing escapes his notice and that his radar “is working twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year, only.” His egotistical nature reminds me of Hercule Poirot’s inflated sense of self. Much like Poirot, underneath all that pomposity, Puri genuinely wants to put matters right, whether it be catching the perpetrators of a jewelry heist or reuniting a couple in love. That is what makes him such a likeable character. Inspite of his florid, robust nature, Puri, possess a surprisingly insightful view of the world around him. He wears his safari suits with a swagger, but it is all good.

In this book, Hall, via Puri, expounds on the caste system, the corruption of the Indian government, the Great Indian Wedding and the state of Indian traffic, among other things. With his colorful characters, vivid descriptions and rather apt-sounding dialogs Hall gives us a great look-see into modern Indian society.

The ramifications of colonialism always proved disastrous. Indeed, Uttar Pradesh, one of India’s most lawless states, was yet to recover from the legacy of the Britishers in the detective’s opinion. The British Empire had destroyed the fabric of the indigenous economy as well as the old nawab culture, which, for all it’s faults, had produced an educated intelligentsia. Since independence, the vacuum had been filled by something far less sophisticated. Uttar Pradesh’s modern rulers possessed none of the intellectual acumen of the likes of Mahatma Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru, or Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, the Dalit leader responsible for writing the Indian constitution. Today’s politicians were crude men and women guilty of everything from smuggling to rape and murder. Their route to power was not competence or judiciousness, but exploiting caste vote banks.

The Case of the Love Commandos is a well-plotted, fast-moving mystery which engages us via it’s smartly-etched characters, it’s in-built humor and plenty of twists-and-turns. Another feather in Hall’s cap, this one is highly recommended.