For me a perfect book is a book in which reader starts living the story. While reading Shantaram – I not only lived the story it kept haunting my mind long after I had put the book down.
I had read “The Inheritance of Loss” just before Shantaram and I was quite disappointed with it. In fact I almost slept thru it. It just didn’t appeal to me. I guess it was too depressing, dark and there seem to be no start, middle and end…it just went on and on about misery of a few people and the life all of them were stuck.
But Shantaram was just the opposite; It grips you from page 1 and just grows on u. It’s a tome, 900 pages plus. After reading it…you literally give out a sigh and say…. Man! Did he actually go thru it?
Lin Baba, who lived his life on instinct, simple goodness in his heart is one of the most interesting characters I have read about in a long time. Lin Baba’s life almost looked like he put himself in a conveyor belt called Life and certain incidents kept happening to him. He just had his body / mind & consciousness to deal with it. No money, No education, No MBA placement program…and all this happened in a country called India (he is from Australia) where he didn’t know the language / people / culture but he made it his home and outlived many people
Many times you love the book because you relate to the character very strongly and Lin baba was one such guy - Independence, living alone, life on my own terms is not a romantic notion but a belief which I still have and live by it although in a different shade.
It also showcases Mumbai in a manner only some one who has stayed in Mumbai can relate to.
I stayed in Mumbai for 3+ yrs (just after my MBA) and those were probably the best years of life – Yes I waded thru knee deep waters, got stuck in churchgate when I missed the last local, hated the sweaty arm pits in front of my mouth in the local trains and the sight of the people shitting on the railway track but in the end when I left Mumbai and shifted to Delhi I really missed it and everything was pardoned.
It’s very difficult to capture the Mumbai spirit (and everyone have there own shade) but when I look back at my Mumbai Days it’s so nostalgic that I almost feel like someone who loved a girl very deeply but made a decision to let go because his mind asked him to.
Lost love is lost forever but Mumbai, it always waits with her open arms. I will be back very soon.
