Shantaram... By Gregory David Roberts.

For all those people who have heard about Mumbai, the spirit of Mumbai, the resilience of Mumbai, the life of Mumbai – this is THE book for all of you. The story is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s - a convicted Australian bank robber and heroin addict who escaped from Pentridge Prison and fled to India where he lived for 10 years – life and experiences.

The beauty of this book lies in its simplicity. From the roads of Mumbai to remote villages of India, the life and the lives in India, the day to day celebrations, the great Indian marriages, the author’s deep involvement with the slum dwellers - all of it touch a chord with the reader at some level or the other.

You laugh with Prabhakar. Karla’s quotes make your sit up and reflect on the profundity of the words. As much as Abdullah seems like the wrong guy, the “bear” incident does leave you with goosebumps. The mere thought of such selfless act of affection for the sake of a so-called brother, that too coming from a thug… It just leaves you with a feeling that stays long after the book is done with and shelved. Kaderbhai – the don scares you just as much as his philosophical “World is always moving towards complexity” talks amazes you. Madame Zhou and her shroud of secrecy adds to the intrigue factor of the book. [Till the end, I had half suspected Karla and Madame Zhou to be the same person.]

As much as the poverty of the people in the slum depresses you, the sheer spirit and glee with which the people seem to go on with their lives teaches you the most important thing. Happiness is what you have within you. Much as you search for it, you will never find it externally. It’s not the riches that guarantee you happiness, its serenity and simplicity that does. In spite of the language (or maybe because the language adds that touch of authencity to the darker life in Mumbai) this books still manages to stand out in the scores of other reads.

And then there is Lin. A runway convict, a drugs peddler on the streets of Mumbai, protégée to the most feared mafia don in Mumbai, a godsend doctor to the slum dwellers… Seems like a series of lives and men in a single body. His hatred for Madame Zhou, his yearning for Karla, his blind devotion to Kaderbhai who in turn fills the fathervoid in his life, his affection for Abdullah and his love for Prabhaker. Even his experiences with Kano(?!?!) the bear make you want to hug him. If a man is known by the company he keeps is Lin a saint a philosopher a thief? Beats me.

Although this book talks of a life which had many a wrong turns, many wrong deeds, it will still teach you something about life and love and the world. Long time ago, I had read a blog/article that said, “The most prized books come into one’s life unsought. They arrive to answer a question.” That article made a reference to The Roots by Alex Haley. What The Roots did to her, Shantaram did to me. To again paraphrase the previous author,” This book, truly, made me a person. If my literary life can be divided into two parts, it would be before reading that book and after reading it. That, as far as books go, would be my absolute soul mate.”

Funnily, when I laid my hands on this book, the first thought that struck me was, “Is this heavy or is this what?” But once I started reading it, there was no looking back. Midnight after midnight, this book made me forego sleep. And I have enjoyed every moment of it. And ever since then, each night is incomplete until I have turned over a few pages again. Re-read a few sentence, relived a few experiences.

I don’t wish to spoil the plot or the reading experience by giving out any more details but just that… This is book which is NOT to be missed under any circumstances.