If I had to sum up Uma Subedi’s new novel ‘Paridhi’ in one word, I think the word would be ‘trippy’. The novel has many all too realistic aspects, and yet, almost throughout the whole story, the reader is left wondering about what exactly is going on.

The story centres around ‘Arya’, who is herself a writer, a playwright to be exact. She has, however, grown tired of playwriting. Not playwriting exactly, but everything surrounding it – the casting, the direction, and the stage setting – has tired Arya. 'Paridhi', she says to her closest friend, Sambhavi, will be her last.

From the get-go, the novel establishes a sort of non-realism. In the very opening scene of the first half of the book, titled ‘Arya’, readers learn that Arya likes to watch the sun come up every morning. As she does, a voice tells her that it is time for her to 'realise her life’ and that just like how the sun comes up every morning, ‘life is not always dark. If one patiently waits, light comes back again.’

The reader is left to think about how best to understand this voice, but the story moves quickly and gives much more to be thought about.

In the very next scene, Arya is on her scooter trying to get somewhere important (we will return to where) as soon as she can, all the while being followed by a car. 'Followed' is not exactly correct; it would imply the car was behind her, but the car is, in fact, right next to her, intruding into the other lane and keeping pace with her scooter. If she slows down, so does the car, and if she speeds up, the car does too. And in the car are three people, all masked; the masks portraying some nature of sad and distressed faces.

Soon after, the car then crashes, in a bizarre way at that. Instead of the injured or perhaps even dead passengers bleeding dark red blood, they bleed the seven colours of the rainbow – at least as Arya sees it, and that is an important theme in the book: the theme of perception.

It is hard for readers to say what really has transpired in the real world, the world of the five senses, and what has simply occurred in someone’s head. Readers learn that Arya was orphaned at a young age, and yet she narrates some memories of her parents, memories that end in them apparently disappearing into thin air or being accused by bystanders of being ghosts, images of dead people.

Subedi’s writing creates a sense of thrill, of almost impending disaster, and the readers are promised this possible disaster from the start. The novel is set on ‘Bhadra 19’, somewhere in early September. The day is important because it is the day that Arya’s friend ‘Asmita’, after whom the second half of the novel is titled, is set to commit suicide. Asmita’s house is where Arya is rushing to get to in the early morning of Bhadra 19 when the crash occurs.

Despite its deeply philosophical themes of consciousness and perception, Subedi’s writing is plain and easy to follow, even for an out-of-habit reader of Nepali like myself. Also noteworthy is Subedi’s decision to use various loanwords throughout her writing.

For example, in the scene with the car crash, Arya is said to ‘notice’ the masked passengers in the car next to her, which itself is said to be driving in the other ‘lane’. The language is quite contemporary. This type of language adds a sense of realism to an otherwise fantastic story. The characters use social media and mobile apps, and they meet up at cafes to catch up. Again, quite contemporary.

And yet, it is difficult to visualise the story as occurring in the same world as the one readers occupy. The colours feel a little grey, the words feel dreamy, and the story hazy. That is the beauty of Subedi’s writing. The readers are seamlessly transported into the mind of the character, who seems to live in their own words.

Arya is shadow writing Asmita’s autobiography. Sudebi first says she is 'ghostwriting' the autobiography; she then translates it to ‘pret-writing’ in the next sentence. A pret is a type of ghost in Nepali folklore. The decision to describe Arya as Ashmita’s pret-writer feels intentional on the writer’s part – foreshadowing of sorts.

The last part of the book, three short chapters, is titled 'Shadow Realm'. At the end of the dreamlike story, Subedi begins to tie her knots together. In the shadow realm chapter, Arya begins to find answers for many questions and occurrences. At the end, readers learn from the horse’s mouth itself (the wonderful author Uma Subedi) what they would have definitely come to suspect in reading: that something is definitely off with Arya.

Paridhi

Author: Uma Subedi

Publisher: Sangri-La Books

Year: 2025