This is not a review.  

This is the second in the series after The Blue Bar. The factors I liked in book one have been negated in this one. While the police procedural and the case are good, this one amplifies the caste stereotypes and paints a one-sided picture. I’m tired and sick of it. 

Heck, even in the series, did Arnav’s sister get saved from being r*ped because of her caste? Did she get justice because she was a savarana? Why did she have to commit suicide? 

The book has been written for the target audience (not just West but the self-proclaimed activists who benefit more from caste than everyone else; they will lose the most if the issue ceases to exist). 

I don’t know whose choice this was, but this is disappointing on many levels. There’s quite a bit of research, as mentioned at the end of the book. It explained why the content is like this.  

Maybe I should be glad the list didn't include a book that calls for stoning a community (Brahmins) to death. It's by an author who agreed that she did not report sexual harassment by a senior professor because he belonged to a 'lower' caste. The elite and 'intellectual' community always protect their own, no matter how horrible the crimes. In fiction, of course, it’s the others who do this. 

Even if I ignore the overdose of caste and focus on the plot, a couple of aspects made it hard to enjoy this one. 

First, there’s Tara. I really tried to empathize with her. For an independent woman to end up in a wheelchair and depend on others for basic functions can be beyond frustrating. She would be angry due to the helplessness she feels. However, she soon loses my support. There’s stupid; then there’s stupid. Tara manages to join the latter category. And what’s with that self-righteous attitude? 

Then there is Sita. I love a smart, efficient, and honest policewoman. She has a greater role in this one, which I appreciate. However, her constant pining for her married boss grated on my nerves. Mention it once or twice, but not so often that it begins to define everything she does! 

Never mind that she is married, too (even if her hubby is an A-class prick). It shouldn’t make her seem like someone who goes the extra mile only because she has a thing for the guy. How am I supposed to interpret her theory around switching her devotion from Hanuman to Maa Kali? She can worship any god or goddess. Why make it an issue? 

It reminded me of a young maid who embraced Christianity when she was five months pregnant. Apparently, someone did the same and gave birth to a son. The poor gods must have a spreadsheet with multiple access rights to track all this!  

Though I expected an over-explanation of things, it gets a little too distracting. Why would Arnav think of how a person would fill their car’s fuel tank in another country while the employees in the petrol bunk (gas station) do it in India? Makes no sense. The limited third-person POV makes it hard to read minute explanations. People don’t think that way. 

Still, I appreciate that the content related to kids is kept to a minimum, and there isn’t anything graphic. Even the other descriptions are provided only as much as necessary for the plot. 

Thank you, NetGalley, Thomas & Mercer, and the author, for the eARC. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book. 

#NetGalley #TheBlueMonsoon