In the Indian literary landscape, legal thrillers are a rare breed. In this environment, Manini Brar’s The Figure in the Fog delivers a refreshing courtroom drama rooted in grassroots reality.
Like many Indians, I keep my distance from courts and the legal system. Yet some stories manage to make them seem more human, even less intimidating. That’s exactly what I felt after reading Manini Brar’s debut novel The Figure in the Fog.
Legal fiction by Indian authors is not aplenty, which made this book refreshing. I let Brar guide me into the world of Malti Jakhar — city-bred, smart, feminine, and determined to carve her own path as a struggling young lawyer. Instead of joining the expected route of a law firm, she sets up her own practice, sharing office space to save costs. Her “two-man army”, a weaselly clerk and an assistant in love, adds both humour and heart.
The plot follows the familiar rhythm of a legal thriller: a crime, a criminal, and a courtroom battle. But Brar’s presentation sets it apart. The humour, everyday banter, and regional dialect make the story pacy and relatable. Malti’s sparring with condescending male lawyers, her sharp observations, and her pragmatic acceptance of reality give her the charm of a schoolgirl pulling mental punches. She is endearing, flawed, and resilient. She loves to drink beer and focuses on the rulebook, without getting into the activist side of law. She leads without flaunting, struggling yet alert.
At the centre of the case is Gola, a young man from the remote Pittha tribe in Uttar Pradesh. Uneducated and bound by old norms, he believes he has killed a djinn, only to discover it was a human. Hell breaks loose when the police land at their village, searching for the killer. An NGO steps in to help, but no lawyer wants the case. Malti, with her clerk Chandan Pal and assistant Charu, takes it on, after much scepticism and lack of funds.
Brar’s characters are real people, who live all around us. Malti Jakhar, a woman lawyer written by a woman, embodies resilience and vulnerability. Yet it is Chandan Pal, the clerk, who emerges as the novel’s most grounded character, walking through the fog of politics, prejudice, and power unscathed. His earthy insights and dialect remind us that much of India still lives in rural belts, where life follows its own rules. His practicality and humour make readers reflect on the gap between elite education and grassroots wisdom, grounding the narrative in lived experience.
Brar weaves courtroom drama with parallel threads of romance and friendship, never preachy but always insightful. She touches on hate crimes, brainwashing, and the age-old political strategy of divide and rule, where friendships dissolve into enmity and generations pay the price of boundaries drawn in anger. Her prose sees through these divisions yet accepts the layers of reality with pragmatism.
Brar’s assured handling of courtroom procedure is no surprise. A lawyer herself, she holds an LLM from the University of Cambridge and writes a column, The Orbiter Truth, for Bar & Bench journal. That professional grounding lends authenticity to the novel, while her wit and eye for human detail ensure it never reads like a dry manual.
The Figure in the Fog entices with its feminist approach without becoming social activism and compelling the reader to see the talent instead of the gender.
Book Details
Publisher: Juggernaut Books
Language: English
Format: Paperback
Pages: 256
Price: INR 499
Ambica Gulati is a journalist and editor whose work explores global affairs, travel, environment, and the intuitive arts. From short stories to wellness mantras, she focuses on meaningful experiences in a complex world. She has authored books for children, a series of six books on Monuments of the World published by Om Books International.
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