Gibberish: How does one write a review on a 933-page book? Well, some would “Throw light”, some may “Shatter more keys”, start with “Cheers”, “Keep penning” and even “Peace Out” doing it! Since all these trademarks have been taken (& famous) on MS, yours truly will “Just Write”!
But frankly, here is a book, giving out confusing vibes right from the moment you hear about it. Shantaram!Who ever would name a book that! Oliver Twist was then. In the age of KBC, KANK, HAHK and MCD (Mun Corpn of Delhi or McDonalds or McDowells, depending on your ‘Delhiism’, ‘Empty stomachism’or ‘Pegism’!), Shantaram is one lousy title! You’d be forgiven for assuming the author was Nathuram Godse, Gopinath Munde or some other! Then, you discover the truth in the form of Gregory David Roberts. No saar, this aint no neo-Christian. Hundred purrcent Australian, saar, but the middle name could well have been ‘Desi’! Then, you see The Book. As thick as the length of a (real) lady’s finger, it takes some thought ere the crimson and blue cover is revealed as a silhouette of the Taj (the Shah Jahan one!) and its reflection in moonlight.
To Read or Not To Read?:Your thoughts turn calculative. “How long to the finish?”. Desperately searching for a straw to hold onto, you find glowing tributes from the usuals – Daily Telegraph, Daily Mail, Guardianblah blah. ‘Time Out’ even does a Shantaram (like the comments of some of us, me included, on MS!), with a tribute covering half the back cover! Gingerely, you open the huge manuscript, ready to flee at first traces of put-downability.
Andar Ki Baat: One paragraph tells you GDR (acr for author) is ‘from Melbourne. After surviving the events in Shantaram,.. captured in Germany…extradited to Australia. Now a full time writer’ (yes, out of prison!) The book was first published in 2003 (ISBN 0 34911754 3), the book/ author boats a neat site https://Shantaram.com. It is now being made into a movie, starring Johnny Depp.
In a Nutshell: For those of you who prefer quickies, here’s your aphrodisiac (thanx Sudipto33!) from the first page, in the author’s own words. After all, Shantaram can say his thingy better than Shyam can, right? Here goes.
‘I was a revolutionary who lost his ideals in heroin, a philosopher who lost his integrity in crime, and a poet who lost his soul in a maximum security prison. When I escaped from that prison, over the front wall, between two gun towers, I became my country’s most wanted man. Luck ran with me and flew with me to India, where I joined the Bombay mafia. I worked as a gunrunner, a smuggler, and a counterfeiter. I was chained on three continents, beaten, stabbed and starved. I went to war. I ran into the enemy guns. And I survived, while other men around me died. They were better men than I am, most of them; better men whose lives were crunched up in mistakes, and thrown away by the wrong second of someone else’s hate, or love, or indifference. And I buried them, too many of those men, and grieved their stories and their lives into my own.’
Alice, Alice, Who the Flick is Shantaram?: SR (Abha, this is my rev and I choose to abbrev it thus! Objection overruled!) is also the ‘given’ name of the author. It was given to him by the mother of Prabhakar, his first Indian pal, who appeared as his guide when he first set foot in Bombay. The bond grew and GDR was invited to a sabbatical in a remote village, where Prabhakar hailed from. GDR had picked up a smattering of street Hindi and Marathi (the right way – gaalifirst, hariyali later!) at Bombay, which he refined in the village. So taken in were the gaon-wale that Prabhakar’s parents made him their foster-son and named him Shantaram. And there lies the genesis of the title. A different matter that everywhere, GDR was known as Linor Lin Baba (I can see Saint & Megs grinning!), a name coined by Prabhakar to ‘Indianise’ the gora!
Deeper, Fuller, Stronger: For appetites not satiated by the quickie, here’s it, the KS way! (And, if you ask me what that acronym is, you ain’t watching your ‘moves’, baby!).
SR is about
a life’s story all gone wrong, from the heart of a survivor
a gora who landed at Bombay, fleeing from the law
the gorawho turned Indian in everything except skin colour
the Indora(gora outside, Indian inside!) who knew more of South Bombay, its parallel life, pubs, slums and pulse way better than any of us ever would in a lifetime.
his stint with the mafia, and even Bollywood, more from emotional bonds than necessity (a man with nowhere to go can’t have too many of ‘em, ya?)
a few girls with whom he shared jokes, hearts, drugs, money and beds (in no such order)
how he lands up with his mafia-mates, running guns to jehadis in Afghan mountains, gets shot, survives and returns
the multiple times and variety in which he was caught, jailed and tortured, with our own Arthur Road prison’s guttural realities standing worse apart from all the rest.
the evolution of a young man to a druggie, robber, convict, outlaw, becoming one among the millions in a foreign land, turning a mafia man, semi-jehadi and more.
how Will survives all odds, and lives to tell the tale, with an Indian name! That too, after the first two versions of the script were lost to boots and lighters of prison guards.
Cons: A few pals on MS have trashed SR. Yes, the author at times goes on, at seemingly tangential paths to the plot, about philosophy, narratives of environs and the works. The author (it seems) has agreed that the persona of the key female character was cooked up. Still, those don’t take away any, from the essence of this wonderful book. When a rookie pens his first book (a huge one at that!), that too on his own struggles, paths and life, you ought to give him some maneuvering space, right? All the more, when the book is all about life and living, in a warped way, though!
Pappu Pass Ho Gaya: I say, Read It! It’s a story that’s racy, thrilling, well told and true. If you like fiction, Shantaram will qualify. If you like autobiographies, it still will. If you like to read about India, from a familiar but different eye of an INDora (more Indian, less gora), go for it. Mumbaikars with an iota of knowledge about the South of their city will be delighted at it. It’s not often that you get an all-in-one, which is also true.
After all,it’s not everyday that you can read about and vividly imagine the likes of the expression on the face of an abusive local when a gora turns around and says “Bhai Saheb, kyon bechara Indian gore ki le raha hai yaar?”
