Incognito

Aarav Pandey (quite reminiscent of Chulbul Pandey from the Dabangg franchise; and there is a Dabangg type ACP in the story too, ACP Rathore; remember Rowdy Rathore?) is a 14-year old aspiring actor, living a dreamy carefree life. He takes part in school theatre, loves football, is a big fan of his drama teacher, can quip dialogues and engage in some witty dialogue-baazi at the drop of a hat and can effortlessly groove to SRK and HR’s numbers.

Then his life takes an unexpected (and maybe even an improbable) turn. Just one glance at the blurb of the book tells it all – he loses a parent and then his family is on the run from a goon and into hiding, with fake identities and Aarav has to pretend to be a girl (Ria). The social roles are reversed and Aarav’s family finds itself serving the Arora’s in their palatial mansion as domestic helps. Here Aarav (now Ria) meets Kookie aka Kiara Arora, a miss-two-left-feet who has to prepare a number for a sangeet ceremony and finds herself without a dance teacher. Any guesses who comes to the rescue? And all the while he teaches her dance, he also finds hidden clues that take him on a quest to solve the mystery surrounding his father’s staged suicide.

Sounds Bollywoodish? Yes, it indeed is! And the book wears this Bollywood connection on its jacket, frontispiece and chapter ornamentation with pride. The plot involves all the familiar Bollywoodish tropes of masala movies. In fact, why give all the credit to only Bollywood? Our epics have given us some inspiration as well. Remember Arjuna as Brihnnala teaching dance to princess Uttara in the Mahabharata? And it was Indraprastha that the Pandavas and our Pandeys in this book lost (the Pandey clan is 5 in number too – Yash, the goody-two-shoes, always-do-right elder brother, Aarav aka Ria, the adventurous protagonist, Bhav, a foodie and an aspiring MasterChef entrant reminiscent of Bhim and Humpty and Dumpty, their cousins). Both had to wage wars, albeit of different kinds, before peace is restored. But I am running ahead of myself. Ahem! So, where was I? Bollywood tropes, right!

The book employs just about every trope that any self-respecting binge-watcher (and hopefully, reader) will identify – a staged suicide of a cool scientist at the Atomic Research Centre (Aarav’s father), threats from the underworld, fake identities, being mugged at the station and becoming penniless, a boy acting as a girl, a tomboy to be clear, this boy posing as a girl teaching dance to the Arora’s daughter, Kiara in her all pink room, the scientist dad having trained his sons to solve puzzles and cases, a mysterious hidden room opening up at the press of a button on a bookshelf, secret compartments in briefcases, suspicious and mysterious accidents just when the character is close to solving the mystery, a secret meeting that turns confrontational and where else, but in a dilapidated and abandoned warehouse, a fight, a sangeet ceremony and what not!

The tropes that drive the plot aren’t new. So, does that mean that the book is a disappointment and not worth your time? Far from it. Like every masala Bollywood movie that repeats the same plotlines and ploys but nevertheless entertains and promises a full paisa-vasool blockbuster that has the audience sit on the edge of their seats, cry, laugh and dance all at the same time, the book will entertain you with its sassiness and just a few pages into it, you will find yourself growing fond of the protagonist and following the ups and downs of the rollercoaster ride that his life is about to become.

This is in no small part due to the author’s craft. Batra uses the 1^st person narration deftly and has the protagonist introduce himself like the sutradhar of a drama. He is witty, whacky and an endearing chap and knows just how to keep the audience hooked. Again, it is Batra’s ability to use colloquialisms and the lingo often used by teenagers, often with a smattering of Hindi, that lends credibility to the character and relatability to the ‘script’ and the dialogues. She has an enviable ability to peek into the minds of teenagers and serve them just the biopic they want and like, like she did in the Secret Life of Debbie G. (Harper Collins, 2020) and the other books she has written for teenagers.

Bollywood has recently seen a revival of movies with a social commentary that use humour, drama, some great dialogues and some satire to open up discussions on topics that are usually suppressed or not broached upon. The book follows this trend too, but rather half-heartedly. It uses the trope of prince-to-pauper to open up some discussions about the difficulties faced by domestic helps and the political correctness of the names people call them with. However, the most important trope the book uses to generate humour, and sticky situations, of a boy passing off as a girl is underexploited. Sure, there are a few dialogues that discuss socially ingrained gender roles, but a lot of opportunities to exploit this trope further to explore gender discrimination and inequality have been missed. Would these have made the book sound preachy? Perhaps, in lesser hands, but Batra has the skill, background and the panache to broach these issues without talking down or sounding moralizing and she has proven this time and again in her books and could have broached these subjects with her characteristic wit and humour.

Children’s literature in India can’t escape the narrative traditions of Bollywood and Vibha Batra’s Incognito only continues the legacy established by many others such as Uma Krishnaswami’s  The Grand Plan to Fix Everything, Nagesh Kukunoor and Anushka Ravishankar’s Dhanak (based on a movie of the same name), Venita Coelho’s Boy No. 32 and others. It is a welcome addition to this genre, blockbuster in a book, and like them, doesn’t fail to entertain.

Book Details:

Title: Incognito

Author: Vibha Batra

Publisher: Pirates, India

First Published: 2021

Recommended for: 13 to 15-year olds

Note: The review copy had been sent by the author. However, this has not influenced my review in any way.