The Commonwealth Prize-winner finally delivers a whopping 7 kg book, <i >Sacred Games</i>
So you didn’t get the advance before you wrote Sacred Games?
No. All the wheeling and dealing happened after the book was written last summer.
At 900 pages, your book invites comparisons with the other door-jammer, A Suitable Boy.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I haven’t got past Vikram Seth’s word limit.
Isn’t 900 pages a self-indulgence in TV age?
Certainly not. Think of the largest-selling series of recent times: Harry Potter.
You’ve lived with these Mumbai bhais for seven years, how did it change you?
It does something to your psyche. Waiting in a queue while the guy behind the counter is reading the newspaper sometimes makes me want to do what Ganesh does, give him a tight one.
Have you forgiven Suketu Mehta for writing about your family now that you have also written about Mumbai’s characters?
Unlike Suketu’s, my characters are a composite of different people... it’s about the ethics of violating confidentiality.
Are literary prizes silly?
The notion of listing books in a hierarchy is ridiculous. And prizes are the ultimate list.
You’ve been on several prize committees, how does it work?
It’s funny the books you like most never win because it’s likely that someone will hate it as much as you love it. It’s the book that no one feels too strongly about that usually wins.
Wouldn’t you love a prize for Sacred Games?
It’s like a mango dropping into your lap. You eat it and forget about it without falling into the trap of thinking another one is going to fall.
What’s your next book?
I am on holiday.