Avtar Singh's 'The Pretenders': A Mirror to Our Pandemic Selves

Remember those first few weeks of lockdown? The surreal quiet, the gnawing uncertainty, the way the world seemed to shrink to the four walls of our homes? Avtar Singh's novel, 'The Pretenders,' plunges us right back into that peculiar, unsettling atmosphere, but it does so with a piercing gaze that goes far beyond just recounting events. This isn't just another pandemic novel; it’s a shrewd social commentary, a mirror held up to our collective anxieties and, let’s be honest, our hypocrisies, when the world outside truly stopped.

Set within the polished yet confining walls of an affluent Delhi apartment complex, the story centers around two couples: Renu and Sunil, and Shobha and Anup. Sunil, a software engineer, finds himself navigating the new normal of working from home, while Renu, his wife, grapples with the sudden, overwhelming domesticity. Their neighbours, Shobha and Anup, a businessman, present a facade of success and stability that, like so many things during that period, begins to crack under pressure. Singh expertly crafts a narrative where the forced proximity of the lockdown acts as a potent catalyst, stripping away the social niceties and exposing the raw, often unglamorous, truths of their lives.

What truly stands out in 'The Pretenders' is Singh's uncanny ability to capture the zeitgeist of that specific time. He doesn't just describe the lockdown; he evokes the palpable sense of unease, the subtle shifts in power dynamics within families, and the peculiar ways people reacted – from hoarding essentials to inventing elaborate rituals. It’s almost as if the virus, in its cruel irony, peeled back layers of varnish, revealing the insecurities, class divisions, and moral compromises that often lie just beneath the surface of our well-constructed lives. The title, 'The Pretenders,' couldn't be more apt, really, as each character, in their own way, struggles to maintain an illusion, whether it’s of control, contentment, or moral superiority.

The book’s strength lies in its observational humor and its unflinching honesty. Singh doesn't shy away from portraying the less flattering aspects of human behavior – the selfishness, the paranoia, the subtle cruelties that can emerge when people are pushed to their limits. Yet, amidst the cynicism, there's also a thread of something deeply relatable, a recognition of our shared vulnerability. You might find yourself cringing at a character's actions one moment, and then feeling a pang of understanding the next, perhaps even seeing a tiny reflection of a past self.

'The Pretenders' is a compelling read, not just as a historical snapshot of a challenging time, but as a timeless exploration of human nature itself. Avtar Singh reminds us that even when the world outside grinds to a halt, the intricate, often messy, drama of human relationships continues, perhaps even more intensely. It's a novel that lingers, making you ponder long after you’ve turned the last page, about the masks we wear and what happens when they’re suddenly, unexpectedly, torn away.