The title was a fair warning, I must say. However, Durjoy Datta is one of the most popular writers in India today, and I decided to read on. It was a bad decision indeed. A difficult-to-digest, strange, love-hate story between an angry young man (who, of course, has a legitimate reason to be angry) and a girl with a skin disease, that doesn’t make any sense at all. This extreme love-hate thing doesn’t work for me. How can you be so hateful one minute that you ruin reputations and careers and realize you are in love the next? Even though Bollywood has done its best to tell us it’s possible, I still can’t buy it. Any saving grace? Two actually. I liked Sanchit’s (our hero’s friend) dialogs that have a touch of humor. And the moment in the book when the heroine meets Raghuvir (the requisite third angle to the story) and for the first time starts to feel good about herself.
Don’t even think about it.