Abhinandan Mishra’s debut novel, Ikhtitam, is a riveting political thriller that merges the high-stakes drama of Indian elections with the chilling specter of terrorism. A journalist with over fifteen years covering elections, intelligence, and diplomacy, Abhinandan crafts a narrative rooted in real-world events, with names changed and timelines condensed for protection. The result is a story that feels like a covert dispatch from the frontlines of power, blending authenticity with pulse-pounding suspense.
Set in a monsoon-drenched Delhi, Ikhtitam follows Krishna, a former pilot turned prime ministerial contender, as he navigates the Democratic Party of India (DPI) through a turbulent election. The Election Commission’s abrupt announcement of an eight-phase election, starting October 15 and ending December 10, upends Krishna’s strategy, forcing his team into a frenetic campaign. Simultaneously, a sinister plot by Fidayeen-Mohammad (FeM), backed by forces across the border, threatens catastrophe. Krishna’s inner circle—loyal aide Shahil, treasurer Amit, and journalist-turned-operative Mrinal—grapples with political maneuvering and a growing conspiracy involving uranium and a mysterious “Wagon Protocol.”
Abhinandan’s characters are vivid and complex. Krishna, at forty-one, balances idealism with the compromises of politics, his pilot’s precision strained by murky funding deals. Mrinal, haunted by his past, leverages a vast network from Balochistan to London to uncover FeM’s plans, his loyalty to Krishna both a strength and a burden. Supporting figures like Kritika, a tenacious journalist chasing Krishna’s story, and Mishra ji, a retired spymaster with a strategist’s mind, add depth to the narrative. Abhinandan’s sharp prose reveals their motivations without lingering, letting their actions drive the tension.
The novel’s pacing is relentless, weaving the chaos of campaign rallies with the dread of a terrorist threat. The writer’s journalistic eye shines in the details: the logistics of hawala networks, the layout of a Balochistan terror camp, the frenetic energy of Delhi’s newsrooms. Settings like Lajpat Nagar’s cafés, Kabul’s scarred safehouses, and Dubai’s glittering hotels are rendered with precision, grounding the story in a tangible world. The interplay of locations—Delhi’s humid streets to Jaleq’s rugged valleys—amplifies the stakes, making each scene feel like a chess move in a deadly game.
Ikhtitam excels in exploring the cost of power. Krishna’s anti-corruption and anti-terror platform, fueled by dubious funds, raises questions about the price of idealism. The novel probes loyalty—between Krishna and Mrinal, or Mrinal and his sources—highlighting the personal toll of navigating a world where trust is scarce. Abhinandan’s prose, disciplined yet evocative, captures this tension. Lines like “Power attracts ambition, compromise, violence—but rarely understanding” resonate, anchoring the story’s moral complexity without preaching.
The novel’s complexity, with its web of subplots and characters, demands focus, occasionally risking overload. Yet this density mirrors the chaotic reality of intelligence and politics, making the effort rewarding. Abhinandan avoids oversimplification, presenting a world where victories are fragile and motives murky. The narrative builds toward a climax that, without spoiling, challenges readers to question the nature of triumph and the resilience of a nation under siege.
Ikhtitam is not just a thriller; it’s a meditation on the unseen forces shaping power. Abhinandan’s experience as a journalist—breaking stories on corruption and security threats—infuses the novel with a rare authenticity. Readers familiar with India’s political landscape will sense the real-world echoes, even if specific connections remain veiled. For those who relish intricate plots and morally gray characters, Ikhtitam delivers a gripping tale that lingers long after the final page. Abhinandan emerges as a bold new voice, crafting a debut that is both a page-turner and a sobering reflection on the fragility of power.
