‘Seven Days Without You’ is a story of two childhood friends that finds its destiny only when they live seven days away from each other. What the joyous life of years together couldn’t unearth, was dug out by the heart breaking realities of seven days that were no less than a new life for him– one where his childhood friend was not with him.The protagonist, Vishwas is all set for his first job. Enthralled with excitement the small town ‘mummy-papa’ boy leaves for Delhi and would return after seven days. His seven days without Shailja do not happen as he thought they would. His dreams ruined, expectations shattered and fantasies turned into nightmares, he realizes that life isn’t as simple as it looked from the balcony of his room. Fun, joy, excitement, sorrow, disgust, embarrassment, deception and then LOVE… Seven days teach him the perfect definition of every sentiment. The battle of emotions and confessions that lasts for seven days transmutes his years old relationship into something else, and his heart overflows with the love he thought Shailja would never kindle inside him. What happened in those seven days that gouged his love out of friendship? Will Shailja still be waiting for him after these seven days? And will she reciprocate his love…?
I was attracted to this book only for the plot mentioned in the blurb, the concept of seven days of separation and conjugation. After reading the entire book, I found the core idea to be the only interesting ingredient. Rest – gone all wrong again. I’ll give you an example. Would you like to read a book which has the following lines…
The unsullied moist breeze of the jungle and the magnificent expanse of verdure, for a while I forgot the scene beside me. (p. 30)
…coupled with the ones below?
“You told me that you have got a bike. Where it is?” (p. 77)
As I kept reading, I had a very strong feeling that either the author had a split personality while writing or there was a ghost writer involved. There is a distinctive switch from pedestrian ‘Indian English’ to a better choice of words – at irregular intervals. I don’t know if it is humble enough to suggest that the author had MPD while writing, so I’d rather assume that the editors decided to garnish the chapters with their own choice of trail mix.