Indian Tango‘To say that, in fact, writing has been no more than a way of talking about the body
and nothing but the body…’
Lost to the meaning of her life, a foreign writer arrives in Delhi seeking the
wordless company of strangers. Delhi is an exploded sun, bleeding everywhere its
untrammelled chaos: the feral dampness of bus fumes; the suicidal rush of scooters;
the autorickshaw seats impregnated with thousands of odours—nauseous accretions
of India’s muddy human tide. The men with their stinking bidis rule as masters and
the women remain walled in by centuries of tradition. The author, infatuated by
a quiet lady on the street, begins to seek the untamed and undiscovered country
that lies below her sari, the delicate throbbing hidden beneath her silence. As she
rediscovers her voice and the ability to write a story, and as monsoon arrives, low and
heavy-bellied, washing away the concrete barricades of custom, a secret encounter
in a music store opens up an ancient darwaza of forbidden pleasures.
Bursting with sharp irreverence, Indian Tango is a story of fleshly transgression and
unlikely liberation in the patriachopolis of New Delhi.