I'm cynical and apprehensive almost as a rule when picking up books written by new, young authors. It is with a sense of foreboding that I open up these books, for I have been faced too often, too much, with half formed, lazy sentences, and superficial, cringeworthy characters and plot written in a (usually) grammatically incorrect pseudo language. (I might have flown off the rails a little here, but I have been disappointed just once too often). It is with the same frame of mind that I picked up this book - prepared for the worst.
I was proven wrong.
Let not the fact that I was prepared for the worst take away from the credibility of the novel. Had I not been prepared for the worst, I would have enjoyed it all the same, but seeing that it came from a first time, twenty-two year old author just added to its charm.
Essentially, the novel is about a girl living in Kashmir, a war-torn province in India (The geography and technicalities of the status of Kashmir can be argued or corrected at a later stage). Novels about Kashmir have a tendency to become political and war novels because of the conflict in the region, however the author made sure Kashmir remained a setting for the novel, and didn't let it overshadow the plot or characters. The protagonist, Inayat, is just a normal eighteen year old girl (as normal as normal goes), and the novel explores her relationship with her family and friends, and the effect of the insurgency on her life. Again, the author has very cleverly refrained from politicising the novel, which worked in his favor, and neither does he pick sides in the war, nor get into any details.
However, the politics of Kashmir are the only details the author hasn't gotten into. The book is written in an extremely descriptive manner, describing everything from the color of Inayat's slippers to the entire layout of the house. It might be a bit too descriptive at times, launching into a film reel spinning in your head, but it's worth it. The description gives you room to immerse yourself in the story, in the Kashmiri environment, with the chinar leaves, and snow, and the slowly developing emotions of the characters.
The characters seemed a bit superfluous initially, and for the first few pages, I was worried they were going to stay the same. Inayat seems to have almost no character at all, Gul just seems like a somewhat feisty, but pleasant girl, and Aaqib, the quintessential football loving guy, whose only distinct quality I thought was his curly hair. But then the plot starts unraveling, and as you course through page after page, you start feeling at home with the characters. You're with them, secretly listening to The Doors' cassette in your parents' room, you're going on long walks to the ruin, you're there on Boulevard Road with the tourists, in the characters' own little world. The character development is a tad naive, but halfway through Part Two, the novel is in full bloom, and you're already best friends with Inayat and craving kehwa.
My favorite character was Maqbool, Inayat's alcoholic poet of a father. Maqbool is the perfect paradox for Kashmir - a Muslim who is not only a poet and publisher, but also a sceptic and an alcoholic. He is obviously frowned on by society, and begrudged by his wife and daughter. There's a loving yet exasperating relationship between him and his family, just like the relationship between him and Kashmir, and Islam. His relationship with Inayat and Wahida can also be a metaphor for the relationship between the Kashmiris and Kashmir - befuddled with hope and disappointment; loving, nurturing, yet overridden with nuances.
Hidden underneath the simple language and the occasional naivete that creeps in, the author has constructed a rather complex plot, and very subtle sub-plots. The book is divided into three parts, each introduced by a poem (which I shall discuss a little later). Every part seems to have a certain theme, a certain climax, that it builds up to. I will avoid giving spoilers and thus won't get into the specific themes or situations. If you can just patiently make it through the first few pages (they can get a bit tedious, and you might have to trudge through them, but you shall be rewarded), you will sail through the rest of the novel, blinding turning pages through the night. I think the author, like the readers, found himself, too, getting more and more immersed as the story went by, and you can clearly see the style and intensity of the writing thickening and maturing as the story progresses. I don't know if that was intentional or simply the writer himself actually maturing, but it made for good storytelling.
The title of the book, 'The Lamentations of a Sombre Sky', suggests a bleak, morose story, and I'd be lying if I said it isn't a little depressing, but it is far from bleak and morose. Loss and moral dilemmas play a large role in the story, but the child-like innocence of the characters and the narration, the richness of Kashmir and the complexity of the plot keep it from turning into a Bela Tarr film. Also, 'Hope' (yes, there is a reason I write 'Hope' in that specific manner) is a prevalent theme and symbol in the novel, a very realistic theme when it comes to teenagers who haven't headed out in the real world and tried to find a job or home in the urban twenty-first century, yet.
I was, as you can see from the review so far, very pleasantly surprised by the book. I absolutely loved the poetry used at the start of each part (the poem written by the author himself, too, did reasonably well in comparison). Once you read each part, go back and read the poem assigned to each specific part, and you'll realise just how appropriate and beautiful those lines are. The author also beautifully captures the experience of loss, surprisingly mature for such a young writer, especially when his fellow writers are too busy writing about vampires and high school flings.
In summary, the novel made for an enjoyable, easy read. A tad naive, a touch slow in parts, riddled with description, but the beautiful motifs from Kashmir, the complexity of the plot, the development of the characters, the poetry, and the long pages with exploration of the darker human emotions just sold the book to me. (Also, references to The Doors and a certain sub-plot. How can one resist The Doors)