Bollywood Storm
Author
N. K. Johel
Author Bio
.K. Johel is a third generation Sikh-Canadian. Her grandfather, who was born in the 1860’s or so, emigrated to North America during the first decade of the twentieth century. Yet due to many complex historical happenings, she did not begin to learn English until she started primary school.
She gravitated to art, music, writing and theatre during her school years in Lake Cowichan. As a young adult, she moved to Nanaimo to study theatre at Vancouver Island Univerity, and then to Vancouver to study painting and fine arts at Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design. Her interest in literature developed informally. She credits Toni Morrison’s Jazz and Michael Ondaatje’s Running In The Family as the works that rekindled her interest in writing.
Description
Can a mystical American detective solve the mysteries of India? . . . Bollywood Storm is an intricate, multicultural comedy in the form of a Bollywood Murder Mystery. With a dash of Kill Bill, this novel will not disappoint those readers expecting action; it’s also a profound meditation on self, identity, ego, intimacy, sensuality, spirituality, fame and obscurity, privilege and loss in both Eastern and Western frameworks; and it’s got the five song and dance numbers in it, too.
The mazza of the story unfolds in two Books, spanning two continents.
Elanna Forsythe George is a Boston born, New York forensic scientist who takes on only cold cases, stone cold dead cases. She solves mysteries in unusual ways with her accidentally acquired, para-mystical abilities. Her cases come to her a few years after high-powered mainstream investigations, police and legal proceedings have all failed, and there’s a dead end. But she doesn’t take every case.
Book I: New York
Elanna is hired by the Bollywood starlet, Simryn Gill, to reopen the case of Rajesh Sharma, a renowned Bollywood director who died supposedly from a heart attack two years previous. Although it appears a simple heart attack, there is no drama, no gossip, no controversy in the Bollywood media. Somewhere, in that odd conspicuous silence, Elanna smells a big rat.
Book excerpt
It was a Sunday in April. Around 10 AM. I was engaged in my regular Sunday morning practice, a meditation that blended Sivasana, contemplative prayer, Vipassana, and some more esoteric forms. That’s when her call came. Deep in my contemplation, I let the call go to my service.
Her name was Simryn Gill. She was an emerging Bollywood actress—a starlet.
She needed my help.
“Nandita Chandra gave me your number. . . .”
The name she dropped got my attention, so I returned the call right away.
She told me some of her story.
Two years ago, during the New York Bollywood Film Festival, Rajesh Sharma, a renowned director and winner of multiple Golden Bhujanga Awards for best adapted screenplays from The Film Writer’s Association of India, was found dead in his hotel room, supposedly from a heart attack. Miss Gill was the first person to get into his room after the cleaning staff found him. She observed some interesting non-uniformities before the police arrived.
The bed sheets weren’t wrinkled at all.
“The way things looked, Ms. George, it was as if they wanted us to believe that Mr. Sharma showered, changed into his pajamas, got into the bed and pulled the covers over himself, then he closed his eyes and poof – “Sri Maharaj kol vassin chalae gia si…’ He transcended or something”
The clincher for me was this: “. . . there were no wet towels in the bathroom.”
That detail had either been overlooked or not considered during the first investigation. I asked Ms. Gill if a cleaning woman might have removed the towels.
“No no no. . . The woman was terrified, she didn’t touch a thing. ”
That was interesting, but I had to wonder. “Why is this case important to you?”
The voice over the telephone hesitated. “I won’t elaborate over the phone. I’m concerned for my safety.” She asked me to come to Niagra Falls where she’d rented a hotel room.
I said I would consider it.
I dove into research.
Two years ago during the festival, the swank hotel where Rajesh Sharma was staying was rented exclusively to actors, directors, technicians, publicists, producers, and Indian media. The police report stated that most of the guests on the fifteenth floor, where Sharma’s room was located, said they returned to their rooms either late that night or early the next morning after the gala party in the ballroom downstairs. Most said they didn’t see anything unusual. Six or seven claimed they saw the director go to bed early. At 10 PM.
That many people on exactly the same page?
It seemed suspicious.
I called Ms. Gill back and she confirmed my doubts.
She told me that she’d seen one of the supposed witnesses at the party, and not upstairs at 10 PM. His name was Gary Dhami. But, she added, most things he said were questionable anyway, because he was just a chamcha.
I didn’t know much Hindi, but I knew that word meant a ‘spoon.’
Author Website
http://www.dhoomadakalakadhoomdhoom.com/
Best place to buy your book
http://www.amazon.ca/Bollywood-Storm-Elanna-Forsythe-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00VZPK1BM/
