Narcopolis

Narcopolis is dark, set in dank rooms, embued with the stench of human sweat, vomit, and desperation. Narcopolis is narrated by an opium pipe. Narcopolis will hypnotise you.

No wonder that this book is written by a poet because the rhythms are tantamount to its long bewitching snaking passages that suck you into its world. Set on Shuklaji Street, in Bombay's red light district. Starting with Dom Ullis' first inhalation of the evil opiates and through the life of the den's mistress, Dimple, a hijra, the book weaves its way through the desperate down-and-outers of Bombay. We meet a coterie of sad characters: Rashid, the owner of the place; Dimple's mentor Mr Lee, a psychotic smoker called Rumi; Salim the pocketmaar; a retired clerk 'Bengali' who manages Rashid's cashbox; the famous painter Xavier; Rashid's son Jamal. Each one is stoned with the stillness of opiate smoke as they recount their stories. In the background, a serial killer is disposing of Bombay's lower classes.

Over three decades of bliss and addiction, we watch the scenes change, the characters come and go, and the area become gentrified. Dom, our initial addict, is the moral compass of the book - a tenuous one, always watching, babbling in English, not entirely present in his own life. He watches the Narcopolis go from red light to bright lights, all through the tunnel vision of his addiction. This is a poetic book about vice and desperation, and a truly exceptional debut.