Late at night, Kumarasurar'sphone rings shrilly. His teenage son is calling. What could he want?

A seemingly simple demand torments Kumarasurar, who fears it might put his finances - and perhaps his son's life - in jeopardy. As a father's anxieties unravel, his memories undermine his self-worth, and imaginary scenes of damnation taunt him.

Estuary brings alive the different ways - absurd and endearing by turns - in which a man and his young son navigate the contemporary world. In the process, it peels back the layers of Kumarasurar's loneliness: the hurt of a married man whose wife cares only for the happiness of their child, the endless monotony of an office job, and the struggle of the salaried middle class to give their children the best chance of success.

Perumal Murugan's latest novel, his first in an urban setting, is also a razor-sharp parody of everything from e-commerce to the fitness industry, art appreciation to political manipulation, cram schools to social networks. Through a meditative exploration of a father's emotional landscape, Murugan tells of a world wrecked by unchecked consumerism and an obsession with growth, where technology overrides common sense and degrees don't guarantee education. And, with characteristic tenderness, he also weaves in a way to redemption.