Maharaja of mysteries

Arjun Raj Gaind is one of the few Indian writers to venture into the world of historical crime fiction. He has a passionate regard for history and a zeal for tracking down the most minute of details, before crafting his novel. NILAN SINGH speaks with Sika

An exemplary bloodline

With his regal features and stately bearing he could well be the scion of one of the erstwhile princely houses. Then, there is the careful crafting of historical nuances in his latest books, almost, it seems, with ‘insider knowledge’.

Hence, one can’t help but ask, right at the outset, “So, which royal house do you hail from?”

“Oh no, I come from an ordinary Punjabi family,” smiles Arjun Raj Gaind, author of the recently released Death at the Durbar, the second in The Maharaja Mystery series.

Not quite so ordinary as it turns out. Arjun’s grandfather was the Military Governor of Baluchistan. His nani (maternal grandmother) was the first woman to get a driver’s licence in her area, he tells us, showing a picture of a straight-backed lady standing beside a car, exuding savoir faire and looking far more self-possessed and confident than most ladies of her time. His mother chose her own path, when, despite familial opposition, she joined Air India as an airhostess, all those decades ago. His father, a naval officer was injured when his ship collided with a mine, and went on to build a business of his own, in the field of shipping.

Quite a bloodline there. A bloodline encapsulating clarity and firmness of vision; strength and perseverance in the pursuit of goals and ambitions. Perhaps too, a bloodline far more desirable than that of some of the dissolute princely houses one has heard of, which have not such reputable roots!

“But,” he continues, “in school, there were several boys who did hail from some of these former princely families.”

Arjun attended The Lawrence School, Sanawar, which nestles in the picturesque hill town of Kasauli in Himachal Pradesh, where a cantonment was set up by the British in the middle of the 19th century. The small town is speckled with architectural remnants of those early days. Enough to fire up the enthusiasm of any imaginative youngster.

A quicksilver mind

“If history interests you, check out Remnants of a Separation by Aanchal Malhotra,” he says with enthusiasm, outlining its highlights.

Soon you realise that his quicksilver mind is like an Arowana fish, flashing about in the ocean of knowledge. Like the Arowana, he has a voracious appetite – only in Arjun’s case, it is a hunger for knowledge, for tales, for background and colour with which to sketch in his stories.

About a year-and-a-half back, Arjun introduced the world to – to give him his full title – His Highness Farzand-i-Khas-iDaulat-i-Inglishia, Mansuri-i-Zaman, Amir ul-Umara, Maharajadhiraja Raj Rajeshwar, Maharaja Sikander Singh, through the pages of A Very Pukka Murder. (Since the introductions have been performed, we can dispense with the formalities, drop the longwinded title and stick to calling him Sikander Singh).

But it’s been a long route to the creation of the imaginary state of Rajpore and the birth of its ruler, he of the many titles.

Along the way, Arjun has explored other territories, some with conquering success. He studied Law and was an intern for a brief period with one of Mumbai’s hallowed law firms. He worked in advertising and has done a short stint in journalism. But it was when he was working with Virgin Comics that he came into his own.

“What is the difference between comics and graphic novels?” one muses aloud. “Is it just a politically correct term of the age?”

Arjun immediately launches into a dissertation on the history of comics, the development of the graphic novel terminology, the state of this genre, and much more – all really fascinating, but which cannot be fitted in here.

“It’s really much the same,” he explains wryly. “Essentially, comics appeared either as strips, or periodically. A graphic novel is a collection of several comic stories into a book.”

After a satisfying and fruitful stint with Virgin Comics and the publication of several extremely popular graphic novel titles authored by him, it was time to explore newer waters, given his interest in publishing a novel – he had tried his hand at writing one as early as when he was 18 years old.

“It was when I was reading William Dalrymple’s The White Mughal, that the concept of a Maharaja-detective, featuring in a historical detection novel, first flashed upon me,” reminisces Arjun. “But it took a while to germinate, develop, research and write the stories.”

His partiality for history is palpable when he adds, “In school, history is ruined for us. We are merely expected to memorise the dates, and spew them out. For me it is the stories, the interplay of characters, the details – those are the aspects that excite me.”

“In the West, the historical mystery novel is very popular,” he says. “In India there might be just three-four of us writing in that genre.”

On the trail

It cannot be easy recreating a world which is not, and cannot be, known and experienced directly. And, obviously, the minutiae required are not limited to just one or two areas – they encompass a gamut of topics.

Arjun read 200 books on the period he intended to set his novel in; spent three weeks working out the kind of shoes Sikander might wear, more weeks where he would shop and so on. The longest chase was for a map of the Durbar settlement – he spent a year trying to track one down, haunting the curio shops of Delhi’s Sadar Bazaar.

“I was determined to locate it,” he grins. “I wanted to be exact in where I placed the camp sections of each princely state you see.”

Finally, he found one in a speciality shop in London dealing in Durbar memorabilia. However, the cost of £ 4000 being too exorbitant to warrant buying it, he persuaded the shopkeeper to allow him to copy it. (He also has a copy of the original Durbar menu of the 11 course feast that was held.)

On his return to India, Arjun actually went and visited the Durbar site -- now known as the Coronation Park -- where all the three Durbars organised by the British in India were held (in 1877: Queen Victoria proclaimed Empress of India; in 1903: celebration of the ascension of King Edward VII; and the final one in 1911: to commemorate the coronation of King George V).

“The place was a mess,” he says mournfully. “There were several encroachments, with people having erected shelters of blue plastic. The statue of Lord Curzon was the back wall of one shanty and the plaque commemorating the Durbar was also covered.”

Valiantly, he set about making sense of the map, actually pacing out the distances, and figuring out the placement of each of the camps. “I am in that sense a ‘method writer’,” he laughs.

Once the research and writing is done, there is the search for publishers – which can take all of two-three years – and the rejection slips.

He recounts one encounter of the bewildering kind with a deadpan expression, the irony evident in his words, “One publisher actually told me they liked the book, but could I pepper the text with some dudes and yaars? ‘We have an audience of very young readers’, they explained.”

For Arjun, that particular journey had a happy end with HarperCollins commissioning three books; of which two have already been published. He is now working on the third book in the series.

He has received a positive response on the whole. His book is on the long list for the Edgar Awards; and he has also been invited to participate in various literary festivals.

In Sikander’s realm, Independence is still more than three-and-a half decades away. There are many years left for him to hold on to the throne. Hopefully, he will live a long life, detecting away.