Can math ever be fun? Have you had enough of apples, oranges and chocolates to illustrate confusing arithmetic operations like addition and subtraction? Let’s try bananas with Captain Coconut, the ridiculously clever detective of Coconut Towers, who embarks on his first mystery — the case of the missing bananas. When the Captain breaks into his office one morning, a garbled plea for help awaits him on his answering machine.

At Mrs Y’s, he discovers the distraught missus sobbing over a bowl of fruit. Mrs Y had bought 14 bananas and the family had consumed four the previous night. But, instead of 10 bananas, there were only six in the bowl! And just then, a few more bananas disappear from the room, right from under the Captain’s nose. What cheek! Who was stealing the bananas with such audacity?

Captain Coconut puts on his ‘tough nut’ act, ‘does the coconut’ (that is, when he remembers a really small fact from his elephant-like memory), sings a few songs and awaits a brainwave. The Captain is a bit like Chacha Chaudhary, turbaned, moustachioed and very, very brainy. In Chacha’s fictional town, mysteries are more dhamaakedar — banks are looted, people are robbed, explosives and missiles are fired far too frequently. Crimes are more intricate in Captain Coconut’s world, but in both cases, it involves a lot of brainpower. There’s also a bit of Shikari Shambu in him, as the pot-bellied, khaki-clad Captain bungles his way to an unlikely resolution. Mrs Y is happy (she swoons at the clever detective’s denouement); Captain Coconut can triumphantly return to his ‘Premium-strength coconut water’ on ice; we’ve learnt what is 14 bananas minus four bananas, minus four more, minus one last one, and that too many bananas will give you diarrhoea! In Priya Sundram’s excellent illustrations and Anushka Ravishankar’s peppy dialogues, the setting is tropical, the colours are bright and the Captain, very funny.

More than bananas

Some other mysteries though, are tougher to decipher, as Ranjit Lal writes in his young-adult novel, The Secret of Falcon Heights. Set in the beautiful hill-town Pahadpur, the author’s second novel in this genre plays with all-too-familiar elements — a dysfunctional family, one deceased parent, a frosty relation who thaws later and young love.

Sandeep, Manish and their little sister Chubs arrive at their aunt’s place in the sleepy, internet-less town. They soon discover a desolate mansion called Falcon Heights and the lonely girl who lives there. Mysterious, reserved and oh-so-beautiful, Aranya catches Sandeep’s eye, as she trains her magnificent falcons to fly. Shunned by the people of Pahadpur, where gossip travels fast, Aranya is a young teenager with a dark past. Called the ‘leper of Pahadpur’, everyone avoids her. Curious to discover her secret and keen to befriend her, Sandeep dives into local history, chats up talkative old maids and employs the cute charms of Chubs. One rainy afternoon, he chances upon her diary, where he discovers that she was brutally sexually assaulted by the local politician’s son and his friends, her father died in suspicious circumstances and she became the bad girl of Pahadpur.

The tale moves in Bollywood-esque fashion, when the local goons try the same on Sandeep’s new friend Parul, who is as beautiful as the falcon-keeper. Help comes in the nick of time, the baddies are rounded up and Aranya’s case reopened. The Pahadpur folk ask for her forgiveness, she comes out of her shell and there’s a hint of love blossoming in the air. While Lal’s story ends on an optimistic, everything-will-be-okay note, it is a grim reminder of the times we live in, of extra-judicial killings, rampant sexual abuse and the heady mix of rumour, politics and power. Aranya’s tale could well ring true in the relief camps of Muzaffarnagar or in the streets of Delhi.

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