Miss Timmins' School for Girls by Nayana Currimbhoy is the kind of book that you stumble upon in a discarded shelf in a library. It does not hold great promise, the library doesn't want it, it is written by an author whom you have never heard of, and for all these right reasons, you pick it up. After all, it is summer, you have nothing better to do and, at the age of 30, you are living by yourself for the first time in your life.
The book is a murder mystery set in a residential school in Panchgani, India - a combination where Agatha Christie's suspense meets the lively boarding school world of Enid Blyton. Based in the 1970s transitional era marked by a strong colonial hangover, the boarding school is one of the last bastions of British influence, slowly losing its hold due to the onset of the 'rock 'n roll, hippie culture' in the little hill station. The novel features rambunctious teenage girls, taught by dour convent school teachers, and everything and everyone is perpetually drenched in the relentless rain and mist of the hills. While the book can certainly do with another round of editing, the story and writing more than make up for any editorial oversights.
Written primarily as a whodunnit, surprisingly, the best part of the story is the delicately-told coming-of-age of its Maharashtrian protagonist, the aptly-named Charulata Apte, newly-employed as a teacher at the eponymous Miss Timmins' School. Miss Apte from Indore finds herself divided between two dramatically different worlds at Panchgani: one occupied by the Christian missionaries running the boarding school, under whose wings the meek Charu finds herself, her Maharashtrian moderation perfectly matching their repressed sensibilities and another, a forbidden world, inhabited by the young, perpetually-high hippies of the hills, towards whom the reticent Charu strangely but naturally gravitates.
Currimbhoy is able to portray both worlds remarkably well, with an understanding that, I suspect, can only come from personal experience. She finely captures that heady phase right after college, a time of increased freedom and burgeoning responsibilities, neither of the imports of which are fully grasped by her hapless, twenty-something protagonist.
She also has remarkable insight on the ambiguous nature of relationships shared between women at a boarding school, relationships, that ever-so-slightly cross the border from platonic to sensual, and back again.
In this regard, the book reads almost like a sociological survey into the secret world of women, revealing the crushes that the young girls develop on their female teachers, the forbidden, fleeting flirtations that take place during class hours while detailing the silent, but turbulent impact that these encounters have on the lives of the young girls.
The book also has its lighter moments as it describes the antics of Charu and her friends on their all-weekend-long festivities. "Hey bug" is one of the phrases that the clever bunch comes up with, which means "Look here" in Marathi while still making sense in English (albeit only slightly). The crime-drama nature of the book also gives the story a galloping pace, and I found myself reading the book late into a short, summery night, stopping only when the warm light of the early morning sun distracted my literary reverie.
The atmospheric thriller had me on the edge, alert to every creak and groan I heard into the night, desperately wishing for company to save me from the ominous threat that seemed to linger over every character.
On the whole, Miss Timmins' School for Girls is an unexpected little gem, which will have you thinking about Charu and her life, long after you have put the book down. The book comes specially recommended for insomniacs and connoisseurs of crime-dramas.