Spunk, swagger and perhaps even sex—Susan’s debut collection is mainly about feisty women. In the title story, the sentences are short, repetitive and draw the reader into the world of Vicky’s, with its mix of bi and heterosexual collisions and unlikely encounters that span different countries all woven by the wonder of a teetotaling bartender. Or perhaps it is drawn together by the quick encounters, the hot and not-so-hot men who one expects to live forever.
Having set the tone with a sassy cover image, Susan takes up the tales without dropping a stitch. The Handkerchief Kumaris in The Trinity are to be expected from someone part of the Pink Chaddi initiative. Much of A Trinity is filled with whip-sharp, witty comments on local communities as the girls tour the youth festival circuit, bringing the house down with their talent or lack of it, but ending grounded in reality after wild oats are sown. Life in college seems full of possibilities until life and marriage happens. And there’s Teresa which, for good reason, evokes Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca with its first sentence, as the protagonist explores the life of her husband’s ex-wife, along with Mumbai newsrooms and the outsider-ness of Malayalis in cities outside Kerala.