Quite a few people tend to check out the book flap or the back of a book before starting on the first chapter. After all, a sneak preview of the future never hurts. Don't try it with A Girl And A River though. Sure, the gist of the story is there at the back for all to read. But it doesn't give you any glimpse of the rich and complex storyline of changing relationships that the author has woven. How relationships change over the course of time and how things really fall apart is at the centre of the book. Storyline aside, what keeps the reader immersed is the protagonist who is unravelling several mysteries one after the other, and the story itself which flits back and forth between pre-Independence and the relative present, the 1980s.
The book starts off with the narrator and her father travelling to their ancestral village to try and relive old memories. She has grown up in an environment where glances exchanged between her parents were speeches in themselves, and the clearing of the voice was a message that the lady of the house was assumed to have understood. Much of her confused childhood, and later her complicated adult life are spent in trying to decipher the puzzling, subtle gestures and the hushed conversations between her parents.
The process of unravelling this mystery takes the narrator to the 1930s where Kaveri and Setu - children of Rukmini and Mylariah - are brought up in an environment where girls are treated equal to boys, a rarity for that time. While Setu takes after his father, a lawyer, who believes in strict neutrality, whether it involves taking a position on the Wodeyars' position in the British-ruled India, Gandhi's swadesh mantra, or even the atrocities committed by the British on the freedom fighters. Kaveri, on the other hand, takes after Rukmini, who is inclined to help the freedom movement through the 'Samaja' and who believes that everyone should have a mind of their own and that education is the key to achieving this.
Although Kaveri and Setu grow up together, they believe in completely different set of ideals. Setu detests being around boys who talk about the 'movement' and Kaveri gets addicted to the idea of driving the English out, thanks to Shyam, her best friend's brother, who initiates her into the freedom movement. And then there is Dr King, a British doctor -- "one of their own" in this small village who peddles around in her cycle treating the needy.
Much against the wishes of her brother, Kaveri gradually gets sucked into the freedom movement though her activities are largely confined to the periphery – she teaches patriotic songs to the girls in the 'Samaja' and edits newspaper copies written by Shyam and his friends against the British.
However, it's Gandhi's visit that evokes strong emotions among the people in the town (including Kaveri's families, albeit in different directions). On the much-awaited day, there is a rumour about Shyam blowing up the commissioner's office, which gets the police involved actively. Shyam gets killed. Does Setu have a hand in this? The incident shatters Kaveri and her life changes drastically. Her marriage to a family friend's son is in ruins and much to her dismay, Kaveri finds out she has to unlearn everything her mum taught about life, including the habit of reading the morning newspaper.
What happens to Kaveri and the protagonist's relationship with her is something that will stay with you for a long time.
Author Usha K.R. has painstakingly researched and analysed relationships and the social background and the town life back in the 1930s and the 1940s. What stands out in the book is the description of the Mylariah household, how it runs, their cultural background, the status of a superior caste in an society ridden with orthodox values when it comes to caste system (read sub-caste), the norms in the society – who is allowed to talk to whom at what time -- or even marriages where daughters are married off by the time they are 12, the cuisine which is strictly vegetarian, etc. The anthropological insights are priceless. (Anyone who has grown up in South India will empathise with the details Usha chalks out in the book.)
But for the uninitiated, some parts are akin to reading, say, a menu written in French without translations.
A Girl And A River with 324 pages is fairly bulky to get into. But the curiosity that is evoked in every page through subtle clues the author drops, makes it worth the effort. This book is not only worth buying but also deserves a second read. It didn't win the Vodafone Crossword Book Awards 2007 (Fiction) for nothing.
Book Reviews 
Quite a few people tend to check out the book flap or the back of a book before starting on the first chapter. After all, a sneak preview of the future never hurts. Don't try it with A Girl And A River though. Sure, the gist of the story is there at the back for all to read. But it doesn't give you any glimpse of the rich and complex storyline of changing relationships that the author has woven. How relationships change over the course of time and how things really fall apart is at the centre of the book. Storyline aside, what keeps the reader immersed is the protagonist who is unravelling several mysteries one after the other, and the story itself which flits back and forth between pre-Independence and the relative present, the 1980s. 
