Capital Vignettes; R.V. Smith, Rupa, Rs. 295.
Actually, writing about Delhi is no easy task. The city has been written about over and over again: paeans, dirges, historical recounts, sneak peeks into political shenanigans. Most of these accounts are eminently readable, even if some do tend to be superficial piffle. This reader is flummoxed at which category R.V. Smith’s stories of Delhi fall into.
Compilation of facts
A compilation of newspaper articles, Smith’s Delhi is the history-soaked city of old. Basically, it reads more as a compilation of interesting facts than atmosphere-soaked montages. Smith traces the tragic propensity of the Qutab Colonnade, linking it to present times with the killing of Jessica Lal. He tells us of the less-than-posh Patparganj’s battle-torn past, the pastoral origins of Dwarka, how Babur and Akbar were wont to come down to the banks of the Jamuna to sleep in their boats on hot nights. The piece on Old Ink Street and the story titled “Door to a Different High”, which tells of an opium house down an inconspicuous street in, of all places, Karol Bagh, are redeemers of this otherwise indifferent set of Delhi stories.
Editorial slips
Some sentences are awkwardly framed (including the liberal use of the word “negro”) and the odd typo does not help matters. Tony (no last name provided) has supplied some sketches, which unfortunately, add nothing. The reader is left with a nagging feeling that in the hands of a more adept wordsmith, backed by a competent editor, these tales would have truly come alive.
This slim volume doesn’t educate, much. It doesn’t entertain, much, either. Maybe it was just something the author needed to get out of his system?
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