"Out of Madness" is a psychological thriller that pulls no punches

"It's prom night. I'm four years away from faking my death" — the opening lines grip you by the collar like this one from "Out of Madness" by Rithwik Aryan. It's bold, immediate, and soaked in intense intrigue, a book that seemingly would be hard to put down. 

Even before you flip a page, the cover whispers darkness. Stark black figurines set against a crimson backdrop signal an unsettling feeling nestled right between the pages of the book. The cover of a book, exactly like this one, acts as a visual cue that matches the book’s psychological terrain.

Right in the very beginning, the prologue catapults you into the drama. The author wastes no time setting the tone; he directly demands you sit tight and lose yourself into a world of mysteries. Much of the narrative unfolds within the confines of a mental asylum, revealing a dark, intense yet highly troubled protagonist drowning in a restless bid to make peace with his own chaos.

The next few lines give away the plot, a gut-punch list of charges that would make any reader pause. Read on... 

"I'm five years away from pleading guilty to three counts of slave trading; three counts of human trafficking; two counts of making child pornography; two counts of distributing child pornography among public institutions;...three counts of sodomy; and one count of harbouring a fugitive terrorist in the basement of our mansion." 

As my eyes scanned these lines, terms like “human trafficking” and “harbouring a fugitive terrorist” instantly grounded the story in grim reality. But others — “child pornography”, “sodomy” — struck me harder, not only because of their severity, but because of how rarely Indian authors confront such brutal, uncomfortable themes head-on.

Perhaps that’s the point of the book as Rithwik Aryan does not joke around. He opens the book with a bang that has reader plunging without the comfort of an introduction. The move is sly, yet calculated to ensure readership is intact.

As I digress for a moment, it is worth noting that "Out of Madness" is certainly not a book for the modest or the prim-and-proper old-school reader. The unapologetic use of swear-cuss words and raw language might make traditionalists squirm, but it also hints at an author writing in pure, uninhibited flow. At times, I found myself taken aback by Aryan’s effortless command over certain heavy-hitting terms that would make many writers pause, perhaps even reconsider twice, or maybe several times.

Yet, amid the unfiltered honesty, a particular line stopped me in my tracks, revealing Aryan’s calculated risk-taking and perhaps, his intent to provoke. He writes: "The next afternoon, a worn-out shared taxi took us uphill from the city of New Jalpaiguri-a township famous for its black magic and witches dressed as regular housewives-to the hilltop of Namchi." 

What was he thinking? Slipping in a statement so charged and controversial could easily come off as tone-deaf or, worse, reckless. For many, it might read like a deal breaker. For me, it certainly was.

The book revolves around prime themes of love and lust but what it captures is also a strong storyline - a psychology professor who fakes his death and disappears, courtesy of his cheating wife. Deceit takes a toll on the individual who goes ahead and falls prey to gruelling issues which encapsulate his journey ahead. Professor Mason Moron meets a politician and they take on life together coming face to face with their dark personality; in turn, falling into a web from where escape seems impossible. 

At its core, the book navigates themes of love and lust, but what truly propels the narrative forward is a compelling storyline centered on Professor Mason Moron, a psychology academic who disappears after faking his own death, driven by the betrayal of a cheating wife. What begins as an escape unravels into a descent, as deceit takes a psychological toll, steering him into dark waters. Along the way, he crosses paths with a politician, and the two form an alliance, confronting the wilder sides of their personalities. Together, they spiral into a tangled web of choices and consequences; without an easy way out.

Despite the casual narration, the protagonist emerges as anything but ordinary. Professor Mason Moron is a deeply layered character: wild, wounded, and wildly unpredictable, who drifts through improbable events. Along the way, he encounters various personalities — some mirrors of himself, others stark opposites. Inside the asylum, he finds himself trapped; but with another troubled soul. In her, he sees a reflection, a strange sense of belonging. Ultimately, it is Professor Moron’s raw vulnerability and psychological complexity that shape the soul of this novel.

On a different note, Rithwik Aryan deserves due credit for the striking authenticity of his setting. The debut novelist spent a year-and-a-half inside two of India’s most dangerous mental institutions. This, indeed is an immersive commitment that bleeds into the pages, bringing an unflinching realism to the book’s dark and immersive world.

As I reached a certain point in the book, "almost" fed up of the barrage of daring terms, Aryan's narrative began to feel less like a carefully constructed tapestry of perspectives and more like a casual monologue. The effort to engage the reader was clear, but at times, it bordered on trying too hard—losing some of the finesse that might have elevated the story's depth.