I’ve read four books in the last three days. We met friends of ours, a couple, and they both not only urged that I must read The White Tiger, but gave me two copies, one paperback, one hardcover, to choose from. (I went for the hardcover.)
I loved the book, but oh God, was it depressing. To get over the feeling of wanting to take a hammer to my head, I started another book almost immediately– Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake. It was so lyrical, so poetic, so much about the weird and wonderful Indian ways, that I had to pick up a similar book about Indians that I could identify with. Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni, who has now become one of my favorite authors, was a lifesaver with the gripping and emotional read Sister of My Heart, and because by now, the Indian in me was seeking something different, I finished off with Dave Egger’s very entertaining A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius.
Clearly, I didn’t get much work done.
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