Sex, Spies And Red Tape

It’s one of the ironies of Indian writing in English, that while a thousand works of literary fiction bloom in every shop window, there are few Indian thrillers, or spy novels around—and hardly any that have broken through in the competitive overseas markets. Bunker 13 promises to be a trail blazer; it’s already been sold for handsome sums of money to Farrar, Straus and Giroux in the US and Faber & Faber in the UK.

And the hype seems well justified. Don’t accept any dinner invitations—this is the sort of book that you will read without budging from the sofa, grunting at anyone who tries to make conversation. It’s a wild ride through corruption, espionage, journalism and plenty of debauchery; with characters that you certainly wouldn’t want your children to ever meet, let alone befriend. (In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the latest charge that the authorities try to pin on Bahal is the promotion of hard drugs—he makes heroin and LSD sound quite attractive!)

The book’s greatest asset is the character of its protagonist—Minty Mehta, or MM—described on the jacket as a "thrill seeker, a disgraced, self-destructive ex-army cadet with a taste for hard drugs and kinky sex".

Bahal finds a brilliant way to get the reader into MM’s skin—he writes the whole novel in second person—"You have soldiering boots stuck between your teeth so that you don’t maul your tongue." At times, this can make the prose a bit complicated, but overall it works, and is a refreshing change from the millions of first person "I shot him in the knee" thrillers in the market.

The writing is racy and designed to shock; plenty of four letter words, short phrases, and a style that grows on you—if you give it enough time. (See, now he’s got me writing in second person!) Either that, or you’ll hate the prose—it’s a very distinctive way of writing. Bahal has a light touch, and you could find yourself chuckling in the most unlikely of places.

Bunker 13 begins with MM, a reporter for a weekly newsmagazine, on assignment with a para outfit in Kashmir. There he unwraps layer after layer of corruption and intrigue in some of India’s elite fighting units—before running into Pakistani terrorists, Delhi-based arms dealers and the Russian mafia. That still leaves enough time for the aforementioned kinky sex and a love affair with his editor’s daughter.

The biggest shock for Indian readers could be the description of army units as faction-ridden, thoroughly corrupt groups which sell captured heroin in the black market and rape young girls during crackdowns. That’s a tough indictment for an organisation that is one of India’s last surviving holy cows (even from a man who was behind Operation West End!), and perhaps Bahal goes a touch too far on occasion—I really can’t see too many army units systematically referring to Kashmiri militants as "Mossies", or literally taking pot shots at each other on the streets of Delhi. If you are to enjoy the book, you’ll often have to switch off your disbelief, and go along with some unrealistic subplots.

Three-fourths of the way through Bunker 13, you start to feel that Bahal is losing his way—meandering into a highly implausible nuclear heist. But then he moves back into top gear, and all is forgiven thanks to a truly stunning twist in the tail.

Unfortunately, many overseas readers may not be able to understand just how clever the ending is—I won’t say too much more for fear of ruining the suspense—but if you finish the book and fail to get the reference to context, I’ll refer you to the newspaper archives of the period, particularly the Nishan-e-Haider citations at that time!With this novel, Bahal manages a smooth transition from investigative reporter to author. If you are heading to the mountains or the beach for a vacation, do yourself a favour and take Bunker 13 along.

(Vikram Chandra is the author of The Srinagar Conspiracy.)