In a house on a Calcutta street, lit by the half-light of a yellow street lamp, lies a baby, one day old, wrapped in its hospital towel. In the next room sits a man, all alone, writing.
Who is this man, at once frightened and determined? What is he writing? Where has the baby come from and where will it go? Tonight, these questions will be answered when the man unravels the dark secrets he has carried all his life.
‘A ghostly, elliptical piece of prose of quite magical quality, which tells the story of one man’s reconciliation with his past . . . It is undeniably powerful’ Edward Marriott, Evening Standard
‘Enchanting . . . Jha is not afraid to risk emotion, but he never falls into the trap of sentimentality. That is, in itself, a considerable achievement’ Andrew Biswell, Daily Telegraph
‘Jha has a real knack for narrative, alternating urgency and delay to the point where his virtuoso handling of the story becomes almost tricksy . . . He is a remarkable writer’ Phil Baker, Sunday Times
‘A powerful, haunting and sometimes shocking novel that deserves to be read at one sitting and then re-read’ Cormac Kinsella, Irish Times
‘This is an incantatory, audacious book, notable for great moments of poignancy’ Baret Magarian, Guardian
Shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award
Winner of the Best First Book Commonwealth Writers’ Award for the Eurasia region