Cold Peace, Hot War

A Review of 'Bali and the Ocean of Milk'

Sailen Routray

From the very beginning of this piece it must be stated that Nilanjan, the author of this novel is a friend. Therefore, I had made up my mind even before reading the book that, contrary to my grain, this review will be a mean and nasty one just to prove the impartial credentials of yours truly. But reviewers propose and books dispose.   

Bali and the ocean of milk (from now on BATOOM) is so lip-smackingly good fun, that even a morose and taciturn person like this reviewer was caught giggling in the oddest of public places while reading it. The novel begins with a preface that follows the oldest trick in the trade; an offering up of the novel by the author as a history birthed by someone else, in this case a ‘shy’ Indian scholar.

The story takes place in China near the border with India, during an unspecified period of time in the past with apparently a non-Indian cast of characters. But the names have been sufficiently ‘Indianised’ by the ‘shy’ scholar. The story reads like an updated version of one of the puranas and the narrator’s voice is that of a cynical, urban dilettante. 

The devas and asuras are locked in an uneasy cold peace when machinations from factions from both sides result in hot war. At the centre of the narrative is the old story of churning of the ocean of milk for amrit and the resultant tug of war between the devas and the asuras with the respective teams being led by Indrah and Bali. Most of the events of the novel take place over little less than a year and the story proceeds pretty briskly.    

The tale in many ways bends genres. One can see it as a political thriller set in puranic times. But it can also be read as a purana set in the rough and tumble of politics of historical times. The world of devas and asusras has an uncanny resemblance to the twentieth century ‘politics’ of concentration camps, religious fanaticism, and power play.  

It is also self-consciously ‘filmy;' the trinity in the novel has the names Sambha, Viru, Jai with Vasanti being Viru’s consort. The dialogues are crisp and well-written. Quite often I felt that I was reading a script of a film rather than a novel. And most of the book is seriously funny.

Churning of the Ocean (Wikimedia Commons)

A large part of the narrative depends upon the ‘supernatural’. But this seems ‘normal’ as the novel continuously plays obeisance to the narrative conventions of older Indian forms where ‘action’ itself is an agent of its own and does not need ‘realistic’ conventions to propel it forward. 

There is very little interiority to the characters. To put it crudely, most of the characters act, they do not think. We are allowed very little privileged access into their ‘inner lives’. As a result, a large number of the characters, even the central ones such as Viru, Indrah, Bali and Avani, are stereotypical, one might say filmy. 

But in the novel this is a strength, not a weakness. Perhaps the most memorable character of the novel is the asura queen Avani, who with her sheer tenacity unselfconscious courage outshines everyone else. 

The book is nicely produced and for a book of its size attractively priced. Rumours have reached this reviewer’s ears that this novel is already on a couple of Indian best-sellers lists for fiction. This is deservedly so. We expect another novel from the author soon, and it better be as humorous and genre-bending as BATOOM is. 

Details About the Book: Choudhury, Nilanjan P. 2011. Bali and the ocean of milk. New Delhi: HarperCollins Publishers. 306 + x + acknowledgements. Rs. 199.

Note: A slightly different version of this piece appeared in the news magazine Hard News in its April 2012 edition. Copyright of this review rests with the reviewer.