Publication Date: 01st March 2024
Genre: Family Drama, Contemporary
3.5 Stars
One Liner: Introspective but a bit biased
Thirty-two-year-old Nikhil has never sat, spoken, or moved. His mother, Jaya, spent the past three decades nursing and caring for him. After her sixtieth birthday, Jaya’s anxiety began to overwhelm her. What will happen to her son after she’s gone?
Her health issues and mounting concerns lead Jaya on a search for alternative care options or any solution she can find. As she plunges deep into it, her estranged husband and daughter are forced to reconsider their decisions and perceptions.
The story comes in omnipresent third-person POV.
My Thoughts:
Before I begin, let me say I am not a mother. I am a daughter.
The book starts with a poem of couplets. While it introduces the conflict in brief, a few rhymes feel forced. A free verse would have worked better.
The perspective of death is interesting. Initially, it acts as the omnipresent narrator establishing the plot for the readers. There are a few snippets by Death scattered throughout. Over time, these lose the philosophical element.
The characters are flawed, which makes the story feel realistic to a point. No one is perfect. They made decisions based on what they think is right. Factors like ego, irritation, stress, anger, etc., make their presence felt more than once.
In a way, they are quite typical. People who cannot and will not communicate. People who make decisions for others. People who want things done their way. People holding grudges. All this works well to sustain the conflict.
However, the biggest drawback was the constant reminder that Jaya was right. Somehow, the book’s tone overemphasizes Jaya. She is supposed to be this strong single mother of a specially-abled child who does nothing wrong. All her mistakes are justified because she made them out of her love for her son.
As a reader, I do not prefer being told which character to support. That’s a decision I make. When the narration insists I need to root for Jaya, my mind invariably does the opposite. Sure, I can see nothing has been easy for her. But I can also see she is responsible for some of it.
Most importantly, I cannot not see Divya. I started the review by stating I’m a daughter. My heart bleeds for Divya. She is collateral damage that cannot be fixed because Jaya suddenly decides she wants to.
Moreover, the repetitive omnipresent statements about how Divya misunderstood her mother or had a wrong perspective got on my nerves. Let’s be honest, Jaya made her choice and it wasn’t Divya. This story belongs to Jaya and Nikhil, and the dear boy can’t even speak for himself, so it belongs to Jaya. It tried hard to establish Jaya as ‘the mother’. I understand but I don’t agree.
I appreciate the focus on the emotional, social, familial, and monetary pressure of being a parent to a specially-abled child. I would have liked it better if we got a little more focus on the lack of proper care facilities and the anxiety parents constantly face.
There are quite a few side characters that seem to blink in and out of the narrative as necessary. Maybe giving them a more meaningful presence would have enhanced the impact. There’s only one central male character, Suraj. As it happens with this genre, he is the weaker person, leaving everything on Jaya. But… yet again, being told that he is supposed to be so-and-so makes me look at things from a different perspective. Not that I elevate his character (nope) but I can see him better than I’m supposed to.
Frankly, I thought the book would end differently. I would have preferred if it stayed with the track it began. Of course, the idea provided has merit and is necessary. But so is the other one. Maybe it would have hit harder that way.
To summarize, Not Before You is a melancholic story of a woman doing her best to ensure the dignity of her child with special needs and how her choices affect her and others’ lives over the years.
My thanks to the author for a complimentary copy of the book. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion.
