There is only so much you expect from a Sidney Sheldon novel. You expect women with powerful sexuality, or rather women who have discovered the power of sexuality. They have discovered that the abuse they suffered when younger is actually their finest feature. She strives to barter it for the right price with the men who desire nothing more. Therein, his novels are shallow lacking depth of character and for some reason quite the corporate success. His novels do not intrigue, they do not matter, they are fine reading for the groggy traveler stuck at the airport lobby – perfect fodder for his claustrophobic encounter with his hands in the flight toilet. Sidney’s overuse of words ‘dripping’ with sexual innuendo is enough to leave the desperate one with a satisfactory ‘throbbing’ in their nether. But, that’s all his novels are, the sideline stain in the margins, a smudge in literary erotica hardly worth the cover price. In contrast, a work like ‘Lolita’ by Nabokov is the redemption. His novel is a provocation, a challenge at the lines drawn in the sand marking out right and wrong. But, this isn’t a critical analysis of their writings.
The intent of this long drawn out attempt at an analogy was to simply state that Modi and his government is the great Indian sell-out novel. Their decisions are like Sidney’s choice of unimaginative words; their speeches like his recycled phrases. He sold out to a majority who prefer to be guided by the soiled hand, the political party to an agenda wrapped provocatively in a religious shroud while dealing an obvious financial card under it. They do not have a guiding philosophy but a practiced and reasonably successful plot (did someone say Sidney Sheldon?) that is put to a national stage and played out for the unsuspecting Indian, numbing his tired mind, balancing his fear on the edge of a cliff and cashing cheques against his desperation. Modi, you have disappointed. The man who stored ‘goat meat’ in Dadri died because of you. You don’t care about your neighbor much less the cow. You have sold us out, made India your harem for your benefactors to set up shop. Don’t get me wrong, UPA was just the same, instead of Modi, a mother-son dynasty paraded around as democracy.
This is not desperation, don’t think any of you have won. The Indian people have made mistakes, been guided by the wrong reasons – but, there will be realization, self-loathing and finally change. And, when the status quo shifts, you will be that dirty stain, the wasted thought in the margins.
Too bad Sidney died, you, Modi, could have gotten him to write a racy thriller for your biopic.