HABITATIONS

In the aftermath of her only sibling’s death, an Indian woman builds a life of purpose and connection.

Vega Gopalan was just a teenager when her younger sister succumbed to an illness their family was assured she would overcome. Somehow Vega’s life continues even as her sister’s has ended. She finishes college and pursues graduate work first in her native South India, then in New York. What becomes clear as she moves through her studies and finds friends and lovers is that the grief she carries impacts her ability to form relationships and engage with the world around her. It’s not as simple as grief imbuing her with a fear of abandonment. The loss acts as a film, a barrier between her and the people who wish to know her fully, even as she too longs for life’s intimacies. Over the next decade, she achieves professional success, marries, has a child, divorces, all the while excavating a yearning for kinship that too often eludes her. The story unfolds episodically, in a good way; in Sundar’s hands, the scenes tumble together hypnotically. The book captures a moment in time—before smartphones and social media as we know them today—among a particular set of people who cross international borders for higher education and enticing opportunities. The catch is that their lives can be as circumscribed by capricious visa policies and systemic prejudices as by any personal limitations. This yields a sense of transience; Sundar captures the cascades of smaller griefs as Vega and the people in her universe develop close ties when they overlap in cities and on campuses, then move on for coursework, jobs, fellowships, and family. Several stirring stretches of the novel eclipse the few plodding ones. As the book illustrates, there are always trade-offs.

A debut novel that explores the contours of grief and globalization with conviction.