Shantaram- the end.

I just finished SHANTARAM. For those of you who've seen any of my status messages on Facebook, you know this is a long time coming. It took me over a month to finish this book, reading at regular intervals, and while I freely admit that I'm a terribly slow reader, that trait really only applies when the story is compelling enough for me to stop, fold down the corner of a page, and write or think for a while before moving on. SHANTARAM did that for me.

I'm left feeling a few things. Firstly, I am devastated at the death of one of the story's central, uplifting characters. His death was important, I guess, but it was not necessary, and I feel a bit betrayed by Gregory David Roberts for taking this man's life too soon.

Secondly, I feel a bit conflicted, and it's because at the heart of this complex story is a long list of dichotomies. Love and Hate are central, as are Guilt and Freedom. Peace and War find their places among the pages, and Truth and Shadow do too. Beauty is contrasted with Squalor and Ugliness and Impurity and, again, Hate. And a sense of God mingles with constant Godlessness. It's truly one existential and philosophic hurdle after another, and the journey upon which the narrator-- known primarily as Linbaba-- embarks is fraught with his pain. He lost his life, his family, his soul, his sense of self and his sense of right. He is a criminal with kindness and love for people. He moves from one emotion to the next, riding this internal roller coaster which manifests itself, at times, in the physical realm, allowing him to do things most people can not imagine, much less plan and implement.

In the end, he has Truth and Freedom and Friendship. In the end, he goes back to the slum that served as his home for much of the book, and he drinks chai with his Indian friends, and jokes and laughs and talks with them in Hindi and Marathi and English. In the end, he returns to the one home he has left. There, in the slum, holding the child of his dead friend, surrounded by the destitute but HOPEFUL, he finds Beauty.

When I am less foggy and more astute, I'll pepper this post with quotes, my attempt to capture some of the Beauty and Truth that touched me. For now, I'll leave you with this one:

"Looking at the people, listening to the breathing, heaving, laughing, struggling music of the slum, all around me, I remembered one of Khaderbhai's favourite phrases. Every human heartbeat, he'd said many times, is a universe of possibilities. And it seemed to me that I finally understood exactly what he'd meant. He'd been trying to tell me that every human will has the power to transform its fate." (932)