So, what is
sacred in “Sacred Games” by Vikram Chandra?
The
book is mainly about Ganesh Gaitonde, a Bombay mafia
don, but also about Sartaj, a kind-of -odd police officer. Yes, it’s a cop- and -robber story laced with literary flavour, and you’re sometimes gripped by Chandra’s unique narrative with insights into life and surroundings – so much so that you feel you’re into a literary fiction, which it’s not.
It’s a compelling cross-genre
novel. Though about 900 pages long, I read through the entire book, skipping pages here and there. Chandra has a way with words and has absolutely no qualms about using indigenous slang.
Now, who does not want to hear stories – escapades – of a don who earns huge bucks by extortion, helping politicians and promoters, murdering countless men and women, selling arms, in every conceivable way in fact, and enjoys
virgins, only virgins (among then a rising Bombay heroine) in
different positions at different exotic places, their supply maintained by a professional lady called Jojo with whom he chats everyday on a special satellite phone without ever seeing her?
You can all read these as the author’s own sexual fantasies let loose on paper.
There’s almost an entire chapter on how to increase one’s penis length. This was of course incorporated when Gaitonde had problem with his tired organ in his screwing binge.
Add to it a formidable Guruji who takes in the don as his disciple, and wants to blast the city for its fresh recreation.
Towards the end of the book, it’s revealed that the
thing responsible for Gaitonde’s sexual prowess was Viagra, the wonderful drug, which the virgins used to crush up and mix with the drinks they provided him before sex without his knowledge. My foot!
Chandra winds up the book with Gaitonde killing self and Jojo, Guruji disappearing, and Satraj getting a promotion.
There was no one or thing that I found sacred in the book. Did he mean sacred crap?
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