Of Djinn and Duologies Part Two: Sami Shah's 'Earth Boy' is a nice conclusion to a fun story

I can honestly say that I’m really disappointed I didn’t review this book sooner. I read it ages ago and I took my sweet time procrastinating, which means I don’t remember any of the notes I made – mentally, of course – while I read it. Which now means I don’t remember all of the completely valid, very relevant things I had to say about this.

The reason this is a shame is because there’s lots and lots of stuff to talk about in this book. With its status as a rare fantasy entry in a country which primarily deals in contemporary fiction about religion and terrorism and global politics, it’s inevitable that Sami Shah’s work would produce ample material for me to pour over. Not only that, but this is a fascinating title, full of very interesting creatures that Shah has taken the time to research and incorporate.

Wahid and Iblis walked through the hole in the wall, and into another world.

I mean, take Iblis, for example. In Islamic theology, Iblis is just another name for the devil, which means we start off our second part of this duology with the hero setting off on a journey into an unknown world with the devil by his side. Imagining a set-up as cool as this and then delivering is something that Shah does well, pulling in multiple other creatures into his story. However, the fact that most of the story line is largely episodic is also one of this book’s major flaws, with Wahid moving from an encounter with one creature to another completely different one. While this means that the world building itself is interesting, the narrative arc gets somewhat affected, making it weak and not holding as much interest as a single, fluid story line would have.

‘I’m scared, if that makes you feel any better.’
‘Thank you, I suppose it will have to do.’


The female characters also continue to serve absolutely no purpose, with Maheen, the girl whose soul Wahid has set out to save, existing only as a reward for the hero to attain at the end of this journey. Wahid’s mother is equally pointless, which is a sad turn of affairs, because unlike the usual clichéd formula of orphaned heroes in famous ‘Hero Journey’ stories Joseph Campbell-style (Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker, etc.), our protagonist actually has a living, breathing parent who could provide solace and comfort. Conveniently, Wahid is gallivanting around looking for a lost soul for pretty much the entirety of this story, while his mother must (one guesses) run around looking for her lost son worried to death.

What also doesn’t help move our story along is the fact that Wahid is a singularly pointless character, unable to save himself in any situation whatsoever without help. Quite late in the story does the Dues ex machina kick in, with Wahid’s hitherto undiscovered powers suddenly appearing from nowhere, at the right time in conveniently the right place. In fact, a lot of times it is Wahid getting saved by either another creature, or by his suddenly discovered powers that enable him to get away unscathed. Funnily enough, for a book that fits best in the genre of bildungsroman, there is very little growth in the main character. At best, the only thing that improves in the book is the unending variety in the creatures we meet.

‘That’s why most people probably think djinns live in lamps and grant wishes dressed in turbans. It certainly stops them fearing us. Not like they used to in the old days.’

I said it in my review for the first part of this duology and I feel like I should say it again: major props are due to Sami Shah for attempting to incorporate most of what desis understand about supernatural creatures, which is an overlapping of religion and culture and history into one messy, amalgamated sort of folklore we all hear about in late night story-telling sessions. Even more importantly, he doesn’t get scared of referencing what one can argue is a very major proponent of all the stories Pakistanis grow up hearing: the belief that jinns are real, based on the teachings of the Quran. Given that there is a whole surah in that holy book about the creatures and how they most definitely exist, lots of Pakistani kids grow up being told that jinn aren’t a figment of an over-imaginative imagination, but rather creatures who choose to remain invisible, but who might be lurking at the very next corner. Given how huge a part the Quran plays in our beliefs in supernatural creatures, I’m glad Sami Shah has incorporated it into the dialogue as well.

‘Religion is a changing thing. It evolves, if you will. The core belief may be the same. The Quran is unchanging after all. But the interpretations? Those shift and morph according to the moods of the time.’

I really, truly can’t talk about this book anymore given that I barely remember it. But what I do remember is enjoying it, and wanting to tell my best friend to read it, if only so we could discuss it the next time we met. For that, I’m going to give this book a ‘recommended’ rating, and hope that Sami Shah continues to churn out more of the same, maybe with a slightly better protagonist. Maybe even a female one?