Shantaram and Eat, Pray, Love are not the only books about India: Here are 10 of my favouritesThere are two types of people in the world: those who think Shantaram is a great book; and those who think it is a spew of virulent air, driven by the criminal mind and maniacal ego of its Australian pseudo-writer. I guess you can tell which type of person I am. This post is 10 suggestions for books about India that are better than Shantaram.
I tried to read Shantaram when I was living in Delhi, but ended up literally throwing it across the room. I thought it was poorly written and more about the fevered imagination of its writer than about India. In fact, it offers very little insight into India, if you ask me; and the longer I spend in India getting to know it, the more true this statement becomes.
Since that time, however, I’ve read lots and lots of book about India, by Indians and foreigners, and almost all of them are much, much better. Except Eat, Pray, Love. If you actually want to know something about India — rather than about an ego-driven writer — I suggest the following 10 books, in no particular order. (more…)

Deepa Mehta at the University of Toronto, photo by Katie Billo
There was a moment during acclaimed Indo-Canadian director Deepa Mehta’s talk recently at the University of Toronto — about the making of her new film Midnight’s Children — when I felt the jolt of inspiration. It came near the end. Someone asked if “it’s easier to break into film today, or when you got started.” Deepa replied very thoughtfully in a deeply felt, lyrical voice: “I think it’s really difficult making films. The challenge has not diminished or increased. Whenever you want to write a book, whenever you want to make a film, whenever you want to make a painting — whenever you do something that isn’t about going to an office, whenever your future is not secured by a paycheque, it’s a risky thing. Whenever you take a risk it’s going to be tough.” (more…)

Author Shelley Seale and children
Guest post by Shelley Seale, author of Weight of Silence: The Invisible Children of India
I never expected to be in India. And without a doubt, I never thought once I had been I would return, again and again.
It wasn’t the exotic beauty that drew me back. It wasn’t the warmth of the people, their gentle and inquisitive nature, their open hospitality. It wasn’t the storied, ancient history of the country or its rich and varied culture. It was not the colors or the spices or the sounds or the spirituality of the place. India is all of these things, to be sure, and I have grown to love them all. But they were not what seeped into my being and pulled me close, becoming a part of me that I missed with a strange emptiness when I left.
It was the children.
They are everywhere. They fill the railway stations, the cities, the shanty villages. Some scrounge through trash for newspapers, rags or anything they can sell at traffic intersections. Others, often as young as two or three years old, beg. Many are homeless, overflowing the orphanages and other institutional homes to live on the streets. I had no way of knowing just how much they would change my life. (more…)