In India, murder is always around the corner

Palash Krishna Mehrotra's Eunuch Park takes a look at seamy, lusty India. The author tells iTALK why it's the 2-star rather than 5-star deviants he prefers talking about

Roshni lies on her back, naked gazing up at them. They can't tear their eyes away from her breasts. Gradually, with each passing moment, the men's faces have begun to acquire feminine features.

Eunuchs dance around Roshni, clap their hands. One of them wields a razor-sharp kitchen knife, its steel blade glinting and gleaming in the night. "Please," begs Roshni, "Please don't do this to me. I am not what you think I am."

Eunuch Park, Palash Krishna Mehrotra's debut collection of short stories, is as intriguing as its name.

Through its pages, you bump into characters you would have chosen to scott from murderers, crossdressers, eunuchs, prostitutes and drug addicts.

At times, the stories disgust you, but that doesn't stop you from reading on, maybe because Palash manages to tap into our sadistic side.

Your stories are about normal people doing abnormal things, the possibility that your next door neighbour could be a murderer.
Yes, I am interested in deviant behaviour. I'm interested not into the five-star deviants serial killers and mafia dons but the two-star deviants, the friendly neighbourhood stalker, because murder, in our society, is always around the corner.

Your stories steer clear of slumdog India. They talk of an India that's fighting with bisexuality and unrequited love and lust. How did you zero in on this focus?
Once I was self-assured about my voice, the subjects and themes chose themselves. Many of the stories are about male sexuality and identity. While women and women writers in India have become more vocal and articulate, men still seem to wallow in the stereotype of the unthinking, unreflective, gadget-obsessed binge drinker. Masculinity and the general f'''ed-upness of men seemed like a more interesting theme to explore.

Your book deals with homosexuality in a sensitive way. Do you think the rest of India looks on differently?
Times are changing. In South Delhi, it is not unusual to go to a bar and bump into a regular middle-class kid dressed in drag. On the other hand, the middle-class is still self-conscious. Just the other day at a party, an acquaintance turned around from chatting to somebody and whispered to me, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "He is my gay friend." So, it's one step forward and two steps backward.