Comfortably Numb

Sheila Kumar's Storehouse

Published on: 11/4/15 8:16 AM

Book review: Mrs Funnybones by Twinkle Khanna

Neat cute

Mrs Funnybones by Twinkle Khanna (Penguin ) does that difficult to do thing: it sheds  the baggage naturally accruing to a book written by a former starlet now star wife.

What`s more, it sheds that weight while not repudiating a single fact of the author`s life and lifestyle.

Meaning, it isn`t quite tales of People Like Us… unless people like us live in luxe houses with smashing views of the sea, have Bollywood hunks slapping us on the back and inviting us to a zillion parties, or are married to one of the film world`s most successful heroes. Or get our good friend Karan Johar to provide a blurb for our book.

But for all that, the author focusses on most things normal. Her predictably unpredictable kids, her husband who reverts to being a normal husband once the klieg lights are turned off, her adorably wacky mother (yes, we know her, the gorgeous Dimple K),  her typical mother-in-law, her crafty accountants and ditzy sales staff, the tyranny of teachers at her kids` school, all the essential compartments which is part of every woman`s life.

And Twinkle Khanna is funny, really funny, snicker-funny, chortle- funny. The rather awkwardly titled book contains 26 essays, most of them from her regular column in The Times of India and the DNA newspaper, and the sometimes gentle, sometimes scathing  wit is sustained all through.

The self-deprecatory tone is appealing. She tells us her mother consorts with friends who have names like Honey and Bubble, and asks plaintively if anyone still wonders why she herself has been lumped with a name that rhymes with sprinkle and wrinkle. She reminisces sans rancour about being a fat kid, on the fact that her sense of humour is not really appreciated by either her husband or her children. Talking of her post-partum body, she says that sometimes the only thing keeping her various body parts together is delusion. When she dresses for a fashion photo shoot, she tells us that if she doesn`t keep standing all through, the massive pearls on the hem of her dress may well go where no man has gone before.

Then,  she rues that the new-age Indian woman`s work is never done because she has to do all the stuff that was dumped on men earlier, like dealing with doctors, talking to bankers, bribing random government officials, threatening accountants, and still has to change diapers, tolerate crazy mothers- in- law and jump at her family`s commands. Truer words have never been spoken or written.

In between, there are some warm reflections on the good things we have going for us here in India, on the plus points of being part of a large family (this despite a cousin named Sweety Khanna who keeps sending her a zillion forwards), on the infectious gaiety that overtakesyou  when you  take part in festivals you aren`t too sure you  believe in.

I thought the chapter titled Karan Johar Celebrates Karva Chauth was priceless, or at least, definitely worth the price of the book. Here are lines from this chapter:

There are 146 countries above us where the men have longer lifespans, and the biggest blow is that even with four wives who don’t fast for them, the Arab men outlive our good old Indian dudes.

My mother-in-law has sent me a big basket of fruits and sweets which I must eat before sunrise so that I can starve the entire day, thereby triggering a mystical spell known only to Indians and NRI fans of Karan Johar movies, that will enable her beloved son to live a long life.

Chick-lit or mummy-lit, it`s a fun read, alright.

Related Links:

Book review: Pyjamas Are Forgiving by Twinkle Khanna

Book review: Paradise Towers by Shweta Bachchan-Nanda

 

essayshumourmemoirTwinkle Khanna

Sheila Kumar • November 4, 2015


Previous Post

Next Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published / Required fields are marked *