India Books

This book has changed the way I looked at the issues of development, modernisation & morals. An amazing read, beautifully written and with great insights.

I have just returned from a trip to Ladakh and I could really relate to what Ms.Norberg talks about in the book.

Just a couple of side issues. It'd be good to know what exactly went wrong in Ladakh. Here are a people who for 2000 years had lived successfully by the rules of Buddhism. How & why did Buddhism fail these people in the face of global/western economic & cultural imperialism? Does the blame lie with Buddhism- it being too 'compassionate' and allowing a religion? Does the blame lie with the Ladakhis who probably were not as sincere Buddhists as they are made out to be?

After all if they really were such devout Buddhists, how come they fell to the greed that capitalism breeds?

Anyway, these are issues which could have been addressed in the book. Regardless, the book is excellent! A must read.

How does life in a non-industrial society compare to life in our own? In which society are people happier? If life in non-industrial societies compares favorably to life in our own, then why are the barrios of the third world filling up with migrants from remote villages? This book provides surprising insights into these questions. It also provokes reflections on our own society and its influence on the rest of the world. After reading a used copy I picked up for free, I bought seven copies of this book for friends and family!

Rarely have I felt more dispair about the direction of what we know as civilization as I felt halfway through this book. The Ladakh people are described as happy, healthy, and self-reliant. Suddenly, the "real world" happens to them, and they come to see themselves as poor, when before they had no need of money.

The authors do a nice job of weaving a story of hope at the end but I have concern for the future of these people. It helps me understand the decision the government of Bhutan has made to isolate themselves from western-style civilization.

After reading this book, I suddenly realized the root problem of Western Civilization: We have no culture. Where there was once culture, we now have an expanding economic order threatening all life on the planet. Through its mechanism of growth and expansion, the global economy is conquering and converting life's diversity into an ecological and social monoculture of cash crops, Levis, soda pop and movie theatres. Perhaps moonscape would be a better word. Of course, it doesn't have to be this way. Our fast-paced, increasingly technological, capital-intensive, fossil fuel-centered, centralized, highly specialized, travel and commercial-oriented, often stressful society is by no means the end-all-be-all of human history. Murder, child abuse, drug abuse, theft, poverty, hunger, and every other problem that plagues the West are not products of human nature. The pathology of civilization is not natural or inevitable, and the Ladakhi are proof of this. Read this book and rediscover ancient, profound, life-affirmating alternatives to the modern humdrum. Discover another way of living, thinking and feeling. Important, necessary, engaging and masterfully written - this book was a treasure to read. Indeed, it was an awaking.

A MUST READ

The first half of *Ancient Futures* will delight and amaze you; the second half will break your heart.

In the 1970s, the Ladakhis of Little Tibet were a happy people. They had a sustainable traditional economy based on trade and cooperation - not money. One person's gain was not another person's loss. There was plenty of leisure, no hunger or poverty, very little sickness or disease, everyone was valued, there was no pollution and nothing was wasted. They got along fine with their Muslim neighbors and they kept their population stable through marriage customs based on land use. Almost every family had a celibate monk or nun. Buddhist monasteries and people had a mutually beneficial economic, social and spiritual relationship. Ladakhis are a naturally contemplative people with a great deal of spiritual awareness. "Schon chan" (one who angers easily) is about the only insult in the Ladakhi lnaguage. "Lack of pride is a virtue, for pride, born of ego, has nothing to do with self-respect among these Buddhist people." The author says that it took her two years of living among them to realize that the people were genuinely and joyfully HAPPY. Then the world beat a path to their door and all that changed - in fewer than two decades.

It's like a little piece of cultural time-lapse photography. What took western culture more than four centuries to do to the Native-Americans took only twenty years here. Ladakh has become a cautionary tale and a monument to western greed and stupidity.

Now there is poverty and unemployment, stress-related disease, women are devalued, the people are ashamed of their "backward" culture, there is little leisure but a great deal of pollution and waste as well as dispute between Muslims and Buddhists and the population had increased markedly. ("Interestingly, a number of Ladakhis have linked the rise of birth rates to the advent of modern democracy. "Power is a question of votes" is a current slogan, meaning that, in the modern sector, the larger your group, the greater your access to power. Competition for jobs and political representation within the new centralized structures is increasingly dividing Ladakhis.")

Chiildren are trained to become specialists in a technological rather than an ecological society. They no longer have time to learn the superb survival techniques of their families. Western culture is creating artificial scarsity and inducing competition.

Now I understand the mechanism better. A culture that has a heavily subsidized infrastructure invades a traditional self-sustaining culture and creates artificial "needs." So they go to the city to earn money which they never needed before, leaving their farms and women, who are immediately devalued because they're not wage earners. The people are no longer planting, irrigating, spinning wool, gathering seeds, harvesting, playing music and singing and telling stories, having seasonal parties, marriage parties or funeral watches - together.

Time has become a commodity. It has become uneconomical to grow one's own food, make one's own clothes and build one's own house. You have to pay your neighbors for the work that the whole community used to do for free.

The men are in the cities earning money and the women are producing tourist commodities with the wool they used to spin for their own use and the food they used to grow for their own families. Now they grow cash crops for strangers so they can make enough money to buy polyester clothes and walkmans and jeans for their kids and food grown hundreds of miles away and fuel trucked in from afar.

The Yak and the Dzo, uniquely suited for high altitudes of Ladakh gave rich milk but not as much as western cattle. So what did the conquering culture do? They imported cattle that can't make it at such altitudes, so more land has to be relegated to planting crops to feed the cattle, thereby upsetting the balance. And they call this progress.

Why can't we just leave people alone - especially when they're doing FINE without us?

"When one-third of the world's population consumes two-thirds of the world's resources," says Norberg-Hodge, "and then in effect turns around and tells the others to do as they do, it is little short of a hoax. Development is all too often a euphemism for exploitation, a new colonialism."

All this would be a dismal tragedy comparable to Columbus's complete genocide of the Tainos if not for a "counter development" movement generated in part by this author. Since the Ladakhis can't go back, they can at least go forward. Instead of importing expensive fossil fuels (previously they had used yak dung and kept warm) they can have solar houses and greenhouses, which have worked very well and given them one benefit that they have previously not had. That's something. Information is another plus. The people are being made aware that westerners pay more for whole grains, organic vegetables, pure water, natural fibers, and natural building materials - things these people have had for a thousand years without money. This is something so-called third-world people are generally not told about.

Once in a while a book comes along that changes one's perspective forever. *Ancient Futures* is such a book. I haven't been the same since.

One of the reviewers on this site said he ended up buy copies for his friends. So have I. This book is a must-read for every person who is concerned about the preservation of our planet and our species.

pamhan99@aol.com

RUSS and BLYTH CARPENTER.
The Blessings of Bhutan
Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 2002. v, 186 pp. Colour plates, notes, glossary, index. US$24.95, paper.

It is rare that one has the chance to review a book so inadequate that one is hard-pushed to find a positive word to write about it.

The Blessings of Bhutan is, most unfortunately, such a book. One cannot imagine why University of Hawai'i Press, an otherwise reputable press that previously released the charming Painter's Year in the Forests of Bhutan by A. K. Hellum, has now published the Carpenters' recycled clichés and Orientalist imaginings. The authors start out on a hapless tack "... visitors often feel altered by Bhutan ... their inner selves are stirred ... [and] many come home with a nagging feeling that they
were at the edge of learning something important, something primary" (p. 1). With this Conradesque backdrop in place, Russ and Blyth Carpenter enter the Heart of Lightness with their readers in tow. Their account of travelling and working in Bhutan is so personalised that those of us who have never visited their home in the USA wonder why they so frequently refer to it: "Bhutan reminds us of Vida, Oregon. Our hometown has a store ..." (p. 7).

Their rambling anecdotes come across as impressionistic accounts from a journal, and are surely more suited to family archives or a Christmas letter home to friends than to publication as a monograph by an academic press. The authors trade in stereotype and are partial to a disparaging kind of anti-intellectualism, embodied by the statements:

"only a masochist would want to know the names of all the languages spoken in
Central and Eastern Bhutan" and "Bhutan's geography changes from challenging to
nearly hopeless" (p. 8). As if this were not disturbing enough, their hagiography of the kings of Bhutan as embodying "wisdom, strength, vision, and selfless behaviour" which they "daydream about the United States borrowing" (p. 9) is surely at odds with the sentence handed down by a previous king who had a citizen "whipped with peach branches until he convulsed and fell unconscious" (p. 18).

While this book has no scholarly pretensions, and readers would do better to travel to Bhutan with the Lonely Planet guidebook, the lack of engagement with issues that affect contemporary Bhutan, such as the activities of Indian rebels along the southern border or the plight of the Lhotsampa refugees (Bhutanese Hindus of Nepali origin) is simply negligent.

In only one place are these issues touched upon, and then shrouded in euphemism and dodged in an amateurish and unconvincing way: "Many of the things we could say here about the southern problem would be out-of-date by the time this book is published" (p. 168).

In short, this book fails to deliver at all levels. The obvious delight the authors have in Bhutan is marred by their thinly disguised condescension: "in our view, the Bhutanese do not understand the insidious and destructive consequences of television" (p. 174) and platitudinous generalisations such as "we have no hesitations about the essential intellectual capability of the Bhutanese people" (p. 169). At best, perhaps the Carpenters could recycle their text for an in-flight magazine on Bhutan's national airline.

MARK TURIN
University of Cambridge

This meaty little book is informed by the experience of the authors'numerous visits (including working trips) to Bhutan, extensive research, and the wisdom of many lively but respectful conversations with Bhutanese friends. Gorgeous color photographs by the authors supplement the vivid, lucid writing. There is intrigue in seeimg how these two self-described linear thinkers are gradually changed by confronting an intuitive culture with a Tantric lifestyle and a heritage of both Tibetan Buddhism and the remnants of the pre-Buddhist Bon religion. What will be the effect of television, which has only now entered the culture, on this relatively isolated culture? What do monks do all day? What does it mean to measure a culture by its Gross National Happiness? Why is Bhutan known as Little Switzerland? These are among the many questions the Carpenters answer. One could not have better guides to this intriguing country.

"The Blessings of Bhutan" is a personal and fascinating compilation of very short, and very readable, essays (or "sketches") about authors Russ and Blyth Carpenter's experiences and understanding of Bhutanese life. The book is separated into eight parts covering Bhutanese culture and geography; ancient Bhutanese religion and its relationship to Buddhism and Bhutanese archery; Tantric Buddhism; Bhutanese art and medicine; reincarnation (especially as it applies to the environment); sexuality in Bhutanese culture; women in Bhutan; and the Carpenter's reflections on Bhutan's policy of "Gross National Happiness" and on Bhutan's future. The book also has a very useful glossary of terms that makes reading much easier as well as a recommending reading list.

The authors' love and admiration of Bhutan and Bhutanese people is very apparent in their sketches. While many things about Bhutan can easily baffle a tourist (like the almost contradictory sexual attitude of the Bhutanese or the concept of "Gross National Happiness"), they explain these things in terms of the Bhutanese culture. I found the book extremely easy to read and engaging, and appreciated the experiences the Carpenters shared as well as the facts. You can read the book back to front or just skip around and read about which aspects of the culture you're interested in.

This is the first book I have read about Bhutan, and I'm glad I got it!

The Carpenters' book is not the first one that I have read on this magical Asian kingdom but it is definitely one of the best summaries out there. The authors succeeded in bringing the abstract closer to us; they offer an easily digestable, very interesting and engaging reading about Bhutan. What is even better they bring up further topics of interest and discussion that may make you look for more reading on the country itself, some of the characters from Bhutanese history or Buddhism in general. However, if you would like to find out more about tourist destinations in Bhutan I recommend that you get Pommaret's book or the Lonely Planet guide, as this book is more about the spiritual side, the soul of Bhutanese people and its manifestations in everyday life, religion and culture.

Absolutely one of the best books that I have read on the country of Bhutan. After reading several chapters, I was ready to travel on one of the tours to Bhutan, which are led by authors Russ and Blyth Carpenter.

I shared the book with my mother(Usha) and my daughter(Arathi). All three of us found the plot very engaging and could not put the book down till we finished it. Each of us could identify with Vidya in different ways. The author's narration is so vivid and spontaneous that the characters come to life. The experience of growing up in a 'joint family' is described most realistically. It brought back memories, good and not-so-good, of summer vacations when a whole host of cousins, uncles, aunts would descend on us. The covert hierarchy that exists in extended Indian families is also portrayed very well. In my own family, the more 'successful' and prosperous members were accorded more respect and treated better than the others. They also tended to be about as nasty as Vidya's periamma.
I look forward to reading more books by Padma.

A family tragedy gives Climbing the Stairs its running start. Vidya is a thoughtful and intelligent fifteen-year-old girl growing up in colonial India who dreams of a college education until her father is so badly beaten by British soldiers during a peaceful demonstration that he is brain damaged. She and her mother and brother must then go live in her grandfather's home, where she has to play the Cinderella to her nasty, domineering aunt. Only by "climbing the stairs" from the first floor, the women's quarters, to the library in the second floor, the men's quarters, can Vidya find sanctuary and the books she craves.

Venkatraman writes vividly and with great authenticity about the mood of the times. Indian life, with this Brahmin family's practice of Hinduism, its holidays, prescribed customs and rigid class structure, is portrayed particularly well and she highlights the spiritual struggles of her characters in a way not usually featured in young adult novels. The account of young Vidya's time spent in isolation from the rest of the family in the "outhouse" set aside for menstruating women is worth the price of the book.

The author has based this serious novel on the life of her mother, who grew up in India during that period. Her writing is clear and elegant, and perhaps her story might have been a little more illuminating if she had been able to tell it outside the box of her mother's voice. Nonetheless, there is enough household drama in the lives of Brahmins living on the brink of an India about to change forever to rush the plot forward to Vidya's double happy ending.

Padma Venkatraman artfully weaves the large issues of freedom (and the vigilence it requires), monotheism, gender, self-possession, pacifism, and the deep well of literacy into a charged narrative of a young woman's coming to terms with her changing world and her distinct inner laws. The novel takes place in the early years of WWII when Japan was pressing India. A terrific book for anyone interested in the domestic Indian landscape; for anyone interested in a young woman's rise to self-possession. Hopefully this is the first of others!

In this multi-layered novel, Padma Venkatraman weaves together the themes of colonialism, feminism and pacifism without sacrificing story or character. Young adults will read it and understand it; adults will find the story line entertaining as well as thought-provoking. This would be a great book club selection and is sure to inspire spirited discussion.

Climbing the Stairs by Padma Venkatraman is a YA historical fiction about a fifteen-year-old girl named Vidya that takes place in India during the struggle for Indian independence and WWII. Outspoken and willful Vidya is excited about her future, but when her father is injured in a freedom rally, Vidya's hopes of entering college are shattered when her family is forced to move in with her grandfather and his straight-laced, traditional household. Her only way to escape is to climb the stairs to her grandfather's library where she is forbidden to go.

Vidya is a delightful protagonist, but at first she seems a little naïve and immature for her age. For example, in a strange scene in the first chapter, she is unable to identify a stain on her father's shirt as blood, despite the fact that she is fifteen years old and the daughter of a physician. However, after witnessing a British officer brutally beat her father, she becomes a much more believable character as she struggles with guilt about her role in her father's injury and shame about her father's resulting brain damage. I also thought that a few of the interactions Vidya has with her love interest, Raman, are sometimes very awkward and her uncle's family comes across as a little too mean to be realistic.

Despite these shortcomings, I would highly recommend this novel to anyone who is interested in in Indian history. The setting and time-period covered by this book are not often covered in American literature and especially not in such a truthful, open way. Sometimes I find that Indian-American authors tend to romanticize India and their novels read as odes to a perfect country where problems such as caste-based discrimination and sexism don't seem to exist. However, through Vidya's eyes, the author unflinchingly shows us her view of what it was like to live in a male-dominated society and where oppression was a fact of life. We see shocking events and difficult social problems portrayed honestly, and this important time in India's history comes to life in a believable and interesting way.

This is an amazing book, by a wonderful author. I would highly recommend reading it.

What a find! I'm amazed Dervla Murphy is not much better known. She has such an appealing vigor and zeal for adventure, combined with an acute eye for cultural observation and a rich capacity for description. Dervla takes one of the most audacious trips I've ever heard of, and undergoes some of the most harrowing and arduous of trials with non-showoff-y courage, such as when three heavy objects that turn out to be wolves fling themselves at her on a dark deserted road in the Balkans, or she is awakened in the middle of the night to find a "scantily dressed Kurd" standing over her bed. (In both instances her pocket pistol dispatched the dilemma without further ado.) Not only are these accounts riproaring, but she so warmly and affectionately describes the so-called "undeveloped" cultures she grows to know as she passes through remote stretches of Afganistan and Pakistan, that she quite awakens a First World reader to the narrowness of our outlook.

It was by accident I discovered this book, but how fortunate it was! Murphy did not just ride a bicycle from Ireland to India, impressive in itself, but she lived and laughed and played with the Prince's and Peasants she met through out her journey. Her descriptions of the people she meets and the ancient lands she cross are simple and magical.

Some of her experiences seem to belong to fairy tales, other's remind's one of Arabian Nights, and at other times, it seemed Murphy was whisked into Tolkien's land of Middle Earth with fierce and gallant warriors on horseback.

I will quote a couple of passages which highlight her sense of humor and observation.

"...But it was worth it all to rise gradually from that fertile, warm valley to the still, cold splendour of the snow-line, where the highest peaks of the Hindu Kush crowd the horizon in every direction and one begins to understand why some people believe that gods live on mountain tops."

"...when suddenly I came on the most unexpected sight-a playing field complete with twenty-two youths and a soccer ball. I know very little about soccer, but enough to know this is how it is not played. No one ever moved about trotting speed, no one ever tried to tackle anyone else, the referee never used his whistle, the ball was never headed and the two goalies sat crosslegged between the posts most of the time, looking abstracted. The real excitement from a spectator's point of view was caused by the fact that one side of the field had a sheer drop of 200 feet, so that the main object of all the players was to keep the ball from going into the ravine rather than to kick it between the posts."

I first read this book in the sixties in grade school. I bought the reissued edition, rediscovering it by coincidence. Ms. Murphy's journey in the early sixties is, if anything, more fascinating to read today in light of the changes in the Middle East since she travelled there. Her independence and cheerful acceptance of different cultures is refreshing. This book was written prior to the 'me' decade, and while intensely personal, lacks the self-preoccupation that more recent writers practice.

Additionally, unlike so many bicycle travelogues, this book doesn't focus on the author's bicycle! The focus remains on the journey, which renders it excellent reading for all, not just bicyclists.

This is a timeless read and one that can be revisited with pleasure.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Murphy's humor, tenacity and bravery are awe inspiring. She's attacked by wolves (or possibly wild dogs), wakes up in a tent after going to sleep out in the open, fends off an attempted rapist and has many other thrilling adventures. In one instance, when there are nefarious characters about, she is advised to booby trap her inn bedroom's doorway with empty bottles. In her journal, she calmly notes that emptying bottles is the one thing she's really good at.

I couldn't help feeling sad while reading this book. In 1965, when this book was published, most people were probably unfamiliar places like Kabul and Jalalabad. Now, of course, in the wake of the post-9/11 bombing of Afghanistan, Kabul is a household word. Turns out, that city was once breathtakingly beautiful, as well as the country around it. Murphy's trek takes her through Afghanistan at a time when the USSR and the US were vying for control of this country. The Russians were busy providing electricity and importing goods, while the Americans seemed to approach this ancient country with the intent to raze the traditional culture to the ground and replace it with a modern one. One wonders if, if both countries had never meddled with Afghanistan, there might never have been the Taliban? In any event, this book takes the reader back to a truly relevant experience of the not-so distant past.

This personal and readable memoir of Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948) is very inspiring. Young newspaperman William L. Shirer (1904-1993) covered Gandhi and Indian nationalism in the early 1930's. That was at the time of Gandhi's salt march to the sea, which protested economic restrictions against Indians. Gandhi desired independence from Britain, and by 1930 his peaceful protests had disturbed the British Raj and won the hearts of many Indians (and non-Indians). Readers see how Gandhi's tactics of peaceful non-cooperation eventually led to independence in 1947 - the tough British countermeasures never extending to inhumane. We also see the Mahatma up close; a courageous, humane, brillant, energetic, yet flawed human being. Like Albert Einstein and Lord Mountbatten, the author considered Gandhi the greatest man of the Century, one who's example inspired Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Aung San Suu Kyi, and countless others.

Shirer wrote these readable pages a half century later, but this superb memoir is worth your time. Also worth reading are Shirer's bestsellers on Nazi Germany (Berlin Diary, Rise and Fall of Third Reich, Nightmare Years).

This book is an American journalist's recollection of memories of his days with Gandhi in India from February to June of 1930 and later in England in September and October of 1931 during the first round table conference when working as a reporter for Chicago tribune. Shirer was then just turning twenty-seven. He wrote this beautiful memoir after nearly 50 years from his untainted memories of Mahatma.

One could read his beautifully worded, mellifluent memoir as if reading a story and one would feel as if traveling with him and was part of the drama that was played out between Gandhi and the British in the early part of the 20th century.

When I started reading this book, in spite of its title, I had the same qualms that I had when I started reading other Gandhi books. Most of the Gandhi books follow a chronological order of events of his life; his childhood in Gujarat, England studies, law career, his struggles in south Africa, encounters with General Smuts, home struggle, Kaira and Champaran struggles, round table conferences, Rowlatt act, his fasting and assassination, a monotonous repetition unless accompanied by new interpretations and historical evidences. But Shirer's book on Gandhi, unique in its genre and subject, remains as a true memoir from the beginning to the end. I finished the whole book in one sitting.

Shirer has given many first hand accounts of his acquaintance with Gandhi in his memoir. Shirer beautifully sketches Gandhi from his memories detailing it with even small incidents, relevant or irrelevant to the political struggle in which Gandhi was part of, thus drawing a broader picture of Mahatma, and for readers it is a great treat. This is a definitely a great advantage; for knowing Gandhi better, books written by people who spent times with him have an edge over those written by people who have never seen or was with Gandhi.

You will get to know some of the amazing qualities of Gandhi from Shirer who spent months with him in India and London. Irrespective of age, Gandhi listened to people, engaged in active conversations, shared ideas and even had banters. Gandhi was sixty-one when 27-year-old Shirer was meeting with him. But that age difference did not cause any uneasiness among them and the relation that started at Gandhi's ashram lasted till Gandhi's death nearly 20 years later. Gandhi continued to influence him for the rest of his life. There were many others (Horace Alexander, Charles F Andrews and Madeline Slade are only some of them) like Shirer who came to India to know who this man the world called Mahatma and succumbed to the `magic spell' of his individuality and principles.

In India, Shirer experienced Gandhi at work. Shirer had been in Delhi all the time when Gandhi was meeting with Viceroy Lord Irwin to iron out the specifics of the famous Delhi pact. One gets a sample of the hectic life that Gandhi lead in his life whose days start at 4 in the morning no matter what time he goes to sleep. Readers get glimpses of many of Gandhi's qualities from Shirer's memoir; Gandhi's boundless optimism even when things are in the dire straits (when asked by a reporter about the efficacy of his forthcoming trip to London on the eve of departing for round table conference on a very unfavorable atmosphere for discussing the possibilities of political concessions, Gandhi said, "I don't know. I am just going to ask them freedom".), his unlimited energy (Shirer was so amazed at seeing Gandhi who came back at 1'o clock in the morning from a meeting with Irwin after walking four miles from viceroy palace to his ashram, the distance he always walked except a few times when viceroy sent his car, spending another one hour at spinning before waking up at 4'o clock for his usual morning prayers), punctuality (he has seldom broke or delayed his morning and evening prayer meetings. Even while he was meeting with viceroy conversing matters pertaining to nation building, Gandhi took leave from viceroy and went back by walk four miles to his ashram to conduct his prayer meeting and then came back and continued where they left off. One another occasion during roundtable conference, he took off during the middle of an important negotiation to have his daily prayer on the corridors of House of Commons since going back to his ashram was an impossibility!). Shirer agrees that even at his younger age, he could not keep up with Gandhi's pace when he used to go with him during his morning walk.

To Shirer Gandhi once said that he will live up to see India winning its freedom and asked Shirer to bet on it. Gandhi was neither in a fool's paradise nor brimming with an unrealistic optimism when he made this prediction. The year was 1930. Gandhi was very well aware that British can't hold on to India for long owing to their increasing unpopularity, crumbling financial situations back in England, looming war prospects in Europe etc. The slowing pace of the freedom struggle after the failure of the first round table conference and the deteriorating health of Gandhi proved at times that Shirer was going to win the bet, but history had something else in its stock that Shirer `happily came to know' later though he lost his bet.

He watched Gandhi's composed countenance during their conversations, during Gandhi's conversation with others and during prayer meetings with astonishment even when things were going against him. Only time when Shirer thought Gandhi's composure was shaken was when the handpicked delegates of viceroy stood in the way of a unified India proposal during the round table conference.

Shirer also shares with readers his few meetings with Jinnah, in whom he saw a rebel and an impatient aristocratic politician. Jinnah's western upbringings and sole-politics approach without any commitments to the communal issues of the people were directly opposite to Gandhi's background and his involvement with the masses. Jinnah, a western minded, who enjoyed liquor and posh life and clean-cut beef had never been a match to the pious saint-clad politician Gandhi. If it was not for his contempt for Gandhi and Nehru, he would had never staged a come back into active politics in 1931 after having left for London to continue his law practice upon the non-acceptance of his 14-points-proposal to safeguard the interests of Muslims in a Hindu majority self-governed India by the delegates of Indian national congress three years before.

Shirer has given yet more accounts of Gandhi's unlimited enthusiasm and energy during his meetings with Viceroy in India's summer capital Simla. Unlike Irwin, the new viceroy Willingdon was more hard-lined and he took a sterner stance with Gandhi. Gandhi had to either opt for human-rickshaws or walk twelve miles to meet with viceroy since the viceroy denied Gandhi access to his personal car, a convenience that Gandhi sometimes availed from the previous viceroy. Gandhi in his usual manner, without even a slightest objection but with heavy enthusiasm walked all the twelve miles from where he is staying to the viceroy bunglove through cross country roads that were filled with puddles from heavy rains often arriving at viceroy palace fully drenched instead of choosing to become a burden to his own countrymen. However, the rain did not dampen down his political demands to the viceroy.

When Gandhi was in London, he had been invited by none other than the King George V to his palace, Buckingham and he went to see him in his loincloth! When asked by a reporter whether seeing the King in a loin-cloth was a good idea, he quipped: "the king was wearing enough for us both". Shirer gives Gandhi's stay in London in details; his desperate moments in London round table conference, his meetings with prominent political leaders, deans of colleges, mill workers and owners, school students, even passers by and all but Winston Churchill who refused to see Gandhi. It was during this time that Gandhi had given his only speech addressed for American audience, which was broadcasted live.

Gandhi always believed that propaganda was must to win freedom for India. His agitation of masses of India, his abundance writings, his reliance on reporters, his excessive travel and speeches, and above all his image, a figure in loin-cloth, were all designed by him as part of this propaganda theme for one ultimate objective, freedom for India. When British did not permit any foreign journalists to come to London to report the proceedings of round table conference, Gandhi arranged a ticket for Shirer to travel from Paris to London with him to report the same.

By taking the readers through his memoir by postponing the most controversial chapter of Gandhi's life, his `Brahmacharical' experiments with girls, towards the end, Shirer was clearly delineating Gandhi's true greatness from a few controversies that cast a shadow on his later life. Gandhi had given elaborate explanations on these `controversial' experiments, which were never done in secrecy, to the readers of his journals. For Gandhi these experiments were all part of his `experiments with the truth' like many others that he had been experimenting all through his life with no malicious intentions whatsoever. However, Nirmal Kumar Bose (who was once his secretary and left Gandhi when he came to know about his experiments) and others that was enough for stirring much of controversy, whereas the girls with whom he shared his bed never spoke ill of Gandhi and only considered him as their own `mother'. I would say that the propensity of human beings is to search for filth and in the life of Gandhi also, what Bose and others did is searching that filth which was never existed. In his memoir, Shirer, perplexed by the extent to which Gandhi had taken his experiments, was trying to find some answers that had always eluded his mental capacity and reasoning abilities as had happened to many of the west.

Shirer was not to blame. Gandhi is no an easy man of intelligence and not many in west can clearly understand many connotations of his life political, spiritual or religious unless the significance of many spiritual and religious practices of the East can properly be understood (check out Richard Grenier's `Gandhi nobody knows' for a shining example). Even many in east really have no deeper understanding of some of these practices such as Brahmacharya, religious fasting, kundalini, higher consciousness, enlightenment etc., and without such knowledge a proper understanding of Gandhi is ever going to remain as a distant dream.

Gandhi once told that he is a politician masquerading as a saint, but the history shows the other way. For millions of people in India he was a saint and messenger sent by god down to earth for the welfare of millions of half-naked, ill-nourished millions of poor people of India who soil and toil in the hot sun to make a living. Gandhi miserably failed wherever he mixed religion and politics. For congress members, he was a political poplar without whom they knew the congress body would cease to work as a political mouthpiece of India. Shirer's book gives many accounts of incidents and events supporting this very fact while he was in India. In many ways Gandhi could only be seen as a saint than as a astute political, by his principles and teachings, way of life and his adherence to the teachings of Geetha and Ramayana. But what makes Gandhi different from other saints was his novel idea of putting the working mind of a saint into practice (not without failures) instead of letting it rot by the carefree life in the hermits. For his mixing of politics and religion, he has given this statement, "But though by disclaiming sainthood I disappoint the critic's expectations. I would have him given up his regrets by answering him that the politician in me has never dominated a single decision of mine, and if I seem to take part in politics, it is only because politics encircle us today like the coil of a snake from which one cannot get out, no matter how much one tries...Quite selfishly, as I wish to live in peace in the midst of a bellowing howling around me, I have been experimenting with myself and my friends by introducing religion into politics". His intention was never to establish a theocratic nation though he often spoke about `Rama Rajyam'. A more detailed discussion of this topic is beyond the scope of this review.

Though Shirer could not agree, or rather not understood Gandhi on many topics, he learned from him among many other things that a man can be a man even when he disagree and love has a prominent place in all kinds of relations including in politics. One could surprise how a few months of acquaintance with Gandhi could create such a lasting impression on Shirer. He later said, that was the power of love and truth. Even when mesmerized by the powerful character of Gandhi, Shirer was able to keep the very delicate balance between admiration and adoration, may be that was demanded of him by his job. Years later, when in America, hearing the news of the assassination, Shirer seemed to have lost that balance and only then he started seeing the real meaning of `Gandhi'. In the later years of his life, while writing this memoir, he was pondering over how helpful were his teachings for him at his life's many precarious moments. What attracted people towards Gandhi, as Shirer correctly pointed out, was his warmth in relations, his genuine openness and simplicity.

Not knowing much about Gandhi, I decided that this brief book would be a good place to start to learn about this great man. I was not disappointed. I was very moved by Gandhi's story. I was shocked by the brutality of the British administration (such as the infamous crawling order). Gandhi's philosophy of non-violence, his acts of disobedience (such as the Salt March), and his speeches and negotiations in defense of complete independence and Indian unity inspired and excited me.

Of course, there is a lot in the story that is sad. I must be naive because I was quite disappointed to learn about Gandhi's personal limitations (such as his sometimes disrespectful treatment of his wife, his issues with sex, and his dismissal of the Hebrew scriptures - all minor in the scheme of things.) Of course, the strife between Hindu and Muslim is tragic and continues to plague India and Pakistan.

A moving reading experience. Highly recommmended.

It is with great sadness that I see that this tour de force memoir is out of print and has limited availablity. I had purchased my copy on the street never even imagining that it was hard to find.
It is impossible to do justice to this remarkable book in such a short space, but the author, the famous William Shirer, wrote this memoir some 50 years after he had met Gandhi as a young American reporter in India. Looking back over a lifetime, this book is his attempt to understand Gandhi in a larger context as a great yet humble man whose radiance, powerful intellect, and superhuman courage not only changed the world but also redefined the power inherent in the human spirit. I found the account intensely moving especially in its tragic ending. Not just because Gandhi's life came to an end at the hand of an assasin, but because his victory itself was bittersweet. His dream of a united India ended in the creation of two seperate states - something Gandhi had bitterly opposed. And although independence had been won through nonviolent means, that same independence engendered an unbelievable bloodbath. In finishing this book, one can not help but be struck with a sense of wonder that the human soul is capable of the greatness of a Gandhi and that, despite the greatness of the players, history itself must go its own way.
In short, I found this book to be both riveting and emotionally powerful. It was an absolute joy to read and I hope some day it once again becomes widely available.

It is one of the most amazing historical ironies that the one of the most non-violent independence movements in history became one of the greatest bloodbaths when the colonial power left. Once Britain relinquished power over the Indian subcontinent, hundreds of thousands of people were killed by their fellow citizens of the former colony. Ultimately, three different countries emerged from the British colony of India, and two of them, India and Pakistan, remain enemies and may go to war at any time. Mohandas Gandhi was the leader of the independence movement, and he lived non-violent civil disobedience with his every breath. In many ways, it seems inevitable that he too would also be a victim of the violent birth of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.
William L. Shirer was a correspondent who spent a great deal of time in India in the early 1930's, and this is an account of that time. He spoke extensively with Gandhi and had a great deal of interaction with the other principals of the Indian independence movement. Clearly, Gandhi was a great man, and the circumstances happened to be right for a non-violent movement to be successful. Even though the British could be brutal, they were ultimately civilized enough to allow it to work. If Gandhi-like tactics would have been used against people like Hitler and Stalin the results would have been different.
Shirer clearly was impressed by Gandhi, his political astuteness and his understanding of the people of India. Fortunately, this does not blind Shirer to Gandhi's weaknesses. While Shirer does give an accurate, interesting and journalistic account of Gandhi's actions, he also explains some of the problems and how people in the independence movement like Jawaharlal Nehru at times grew very frustrated at Gandhi's ideas. With the advantage of historical perspective, some now argue that Gandhi was also bad for India, in that he never seemed to grasp the underlying religious and ethnic hatreds among the people. That is very clear in this book. He also did not grasp the need for a modern infrastructure, as his daily spinning of cloth really did not do anyone any good.
After reading the book, I did come away with some new perspectives on Gandhi and what kind of man he was. Humble, yet well aware of his significance in world history, he can be admired for the principles that he held so strongly. Some say that he died for them. I respectfully disagree, as I believe that he would have been assassinated no matter what philosophy he had expounded. Such was the violent nature of the birth of the nations that arose from the British colony of India.
William Shirer was one of the best journalists of the twentieth century. He was present at many of the greatest historical events and his descriptions of them are some of the best journalism the world has ever seen. This is another in his list of literary accomplishments.

The first and best of a family saga during the mid 1800s in England, when industry changes everyone's lives.

I can think of few better authors to take along on a long plane ride than Delderfield. God Is an Englishman is the first of a trilogy that runs a little out of gas by the end of the third book, but not in the first. To Serve Them All My Days got me hooked on Delderfield, and this series continued it. I can also recommend his book Diana. Alot of his works are out of print, although you can find them at liabraries, or Amazon's auction site -- or bookfinder.com

I am 15 and I loved God is an Englishman. Historical fiction is my favorite genre and the hours I spent on the 816 pages flew by. I found myself trying to finish my homework as early as possible so that I could get to the book before bed. It was also wonderful because it gave me so much to relate to in my Modern European History Class, where we are studying the same time period. I understand the events that we are learning about much more clearly because of Adam and Henrietta Swann. Everyone should read this book, I can't wait to read the other two!

This book has apparently stood the test of time. While I read it, I had no idea that it had been written 30 years ago. The historic details are magnificent, as is Delderfield's sense of English geography. The story is rather simple and predictable however. And the characters are too perfect. No character is this book is ever in danger of knowing failure, and to me, that detracts from their depth.

This book is a must read for any Anglophile. The story traces the development of a haulage firm that serves all of Enland and Wales and part of Scotland. While that is the major focus, the family life of the founder of "Swan on Wheels" is very much a part of it. In fact, all the characters involved are well presented with divergent and believable personalities.

This is a great read for people interested in Bollywood. It not only tells the tale of one of the most popular actors in the film industry, ShahRukh Khan, but it also puts his history in the context of Bollywood's history. It is a great combination of in-depth information and socio-cultural analysis of Bollywood and ShahRukh Khan's life. It is extremely well written-interesting, poignant, and funny. For those who already know a lot about Bollywood or for those who are completely new to it, this is a great book for both kinds of people. I loved it and I highly recommend it. :)

If you are starting to get interested in Bollywood cinema and/or Shah Rukh Khan then this book will not dissapoint you.

I fell in love with the Bollywood cinema in August 2005. After watching hundreds of movies I felt a hunger to know more, to understand what makes it tick, what lies behind the colour, drama, music and obsession with Indian movie stars. I was looking forward to "King of Bollywood: Shah Rukh Khan and the seductive world of Indian cinema"-it sounded most promising. When I got hold of the book (thanks to Amazon)I couldn't put it down. I devoured every page, every bit of information-loved everything about it. I recommend the book to anyone who is interested in Indian Cinema, you will find it to be a fascinating insight into what makes the industry so alluring and powerful.

Bollywoodmania is an addiction. For Westners that will discover and appreciate it in the next years (and be sure they will!) it is the disclosure of a fairytale world of moviemaking that was there all the time but that we simply didn't know. Well, when this will happen the first and probably most important gateway will be the actor and the movies interpreted by Shahrukh Khan. And after having seen some of these, no one will be able to resist curiosity on this great actor.

Anuparma Chopra is a member of the Chopra family that makes up the establisment of Bollywood and is also an estimated journalist. From her priviledged point of view she has written this biography of the still young King Khan integrating his personality with the history of Bollywood cinema in the last 20-30 years. Naturally, the biography is authorized and as such may not contain episodes that are not consistent with the image modern Bollywood and Shahrukh Khan want to convey. All the less, there is a sincerity that transpires throughout the book and allows the reader to connect with the actor and his environment.

The first part on the youth of the actor is full of episodes and sometimes takes on a mythical aspect, but that is a common feature of all biographies. The chapters on the later years are a little sketchy and skip many well known facts. But we must not forget that this book has and will have a different impact on Indians or the Indian-culture public and "Westner's". The Author wanted to write about something new or at least not well known to her main public, that practically reads at least two or three articles a day on Shahrukh Khan. Reading the Indian reviews of the book that criticize the small amount of new information this aspect is very evident.

The book's point of force is the analysis of the reasons for Shahrukh Khan's success, that trascend the actor's talent and are deeply rooted in the transformation of Indian society and how modern Indians envision themselves in these years. An important weight is correctly given to the directors (Chopra and Johar) that have created Shahrukh's winning image and cinema personality, while some movies and directors he also worked with are only mentioned.

The bibliography is quite extensive for a short biography such as this and cites many interesting books on Bollywood cinema. A filmography of the actor is missing and I would have appreciated a brief comment on his less well known movies.

I suggest to read this book even if you are not a Shahrukh fan just to be updated on modern entertainment and on the reasons and pulsions that contribute to create our "collective imagination".

Title: King of Bollywood
Author: Anupama Chopra
ISBN: 978-0-446-57858-5
Publisher: Warner Books
Review By: Diana Rohini LaVigne, Indian Life & Style Magazine

Packed with scrumptious lesser known facts of one of, if not the top Bollywood actor of modern day, Shah Rukh Khan, King of Bollywood is a fun book to read and fun book to share. Being one of the most talked about personalities in the world today, SRK is a legend already but King of Bollywood feeds the hunger of his fans globally on what is the man like behind the mask of superstar.

Although it shies away from some of the less flattering aspects of the actor's life and lifestyle, it does deliver some notions of challenges faced, failures along the way and allows readers to travel from his days as a penniless boy traveling to Bombay on a whim to the grand master of marketing and box office smashes. His story is so extraordinary and almost bigger than life, but Anupama Chopra tells the story in a way that allows fans to follow along and relate their own personal struggles to those of the actor's. Expertly written, King of Bollywood puts SRK's life into chronological order while recalling old memories into current day stories for insight into his physiological make up. Chopra really works on getting the actor's words into the book and calls on friends and family to help build the story from outside his prospective.

There is no doubt that Shah Rukh Khan is a master at the game of Bollywood and the art of persistence. King of Bollywood tells the tale of a boy, turned into a husband, who becomes the actor he always dreamed of being and then remaining the man he always was at heart. This wonderfully written book will provide entertainment to Bollywood lovers around the world and for ages to come.

India has always been famous for her amazing jewels, be it structures like the Taj Mahal or amazing Maharajas stones. This book is exquisite, the images are vivid and crisp and the text scholarly. It is just amazing to see these jewels, you just cannot imagine this sort of wealth. When I think of jewels of India I always think of Louis XIV's French Blue, that came from a Maharaja and now is known as the Hope Diamond, it is simply spectacular, it's a shame it was recut after it was stolen during the French Revolution, but it is still one of the most beautiful diamond's in the world. If you have any interest in beautiful jewelery or Indian history in general then you will love this book.

Forget those diamonds that are supposed to be a girl's best friend - they're mere baubles compared to the opulent jewels that covered India's maharajas from turban tips to beringed fingers. Their palaces needed no artificial light as rooms shone with the brilliance of thousands of precious gems.

"Too much" was not in the vocabulary of these rulers as to many possessing and adorning themselves with fabulous jewelry was their raison d'etre. "The Maharaja of Baroda owned five long strands of perfectly matched, pigeon-sized, cream-colored pearls," which he wore in a bib-like drape. Rubies from Burma, emeralds from Brazil, Golconda diamonds and Kashmir sapphires were the decorations of the day.

Some 300 eye-popping photos in this sumptuous folio-size volume attest to princely extravagance, and to the artistry of great jewelers such as Cartier and Boucheron whom the royals commissioned to set their gems. The accompanying text is rich with insights for all who are fascinated by once princely India and enjoy jewels of unparalleled beauty.

This epoch of luxury came to an end in 1947 with India's independence. The maharajahs resigned and their treasures were either exported or hidden. Fortunately, they're gathered once more in this stunning volume.

I had bought the book "Maharaja's Jewels" by Katherine Prior and John Adamson and I must say that it was truly a wonderful book. For those who have interest in Jewels, Indian history, Royalty, Photography and I think for any one it will be a great experience to read it.

The Authors have brought out the richness of the land in an excellent presentation. The quality of the book in terms of the content, pictures, presentation, the collection of the jewels shown and the history behind them is very well presented.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and certainly recommend to any one with interest in such a book. it should be in any interested person's collection.

Amazing. I spent outside my budget to get this book and it's worth every cent.

Maharajahs' Jewels provides an oversized, lavish examination of maharaja jewelry, considering the history behind royal jewelry making in India and the conditions under which some of the most famous jewelry pieces were manufactured. The stories of the Indian princes and their jewelry will appeal to any interested in Indian history in general and jewelry-making in particular.

I am so impressed with Badshah Khan to the point of being overwhelmed with admiration. One reason is his breadth of vision and his tolerance. At one point Gandhi asked Khan if his English sister-in-law had become a Muslim, and Abdul Ghaffar Khan replied that he did not know: "Why should not a husband and wife adhere each to their respective faiths?" (p.145) I long for this kind of tolerance in the world!

The book is an amazing story of success and failure. Khan and Gandhi succeeded nonviolently in bringing independence to India. The failure lies in the facts that: 1) Neither one of them wanted to see the partitioning in to two nations, 2) their dreams of a united Hindu-Islamic nation turned into a nightmare, 3) they both envisioned a nonviolent nation and that has turned out to be a far-fetched notion. Yet, Khan & Gandhi proved that non-violence can work, as proven again by Martin Luther King, Jr., and Nelson Mandela.

As the author notes, probably no other leader suffered so much for the cause of peace and nonviolence as did Khan. No, not even Gandhi or even Mandela. I think we have in this book the profile of THE most amazing man in world history!! And the fact is that he is probably known by far less than one percent of the world's population.

I love everything Eknath Easwaran writes and this book exceeded my expectations. The stories and information are priceless - buy this book if you want to know about the life of Badshah Khan.

I request customers and other visitors to read the article by Arif H. Akhunzada titled "Bacha Khan legacy is Questionable" with caution because in Pakistan objective interpretation and description of history is mostly marred by the official stand on history enshrined in the so-called "Pakistan Ideology".

Pakistan Ideology i.e. the Idea that sparked the struggle for Pakistan is a highly communal, theocratic, and Pan-Islamist view of history that considers the people of the Subcontinent to be divided into two religious communities-Hindus and Muslims-with entirely different ways of life and very little in common to live in a single state or society. According to this ideology, the Idea of Pakistan was born when the first Arab Muslim invader i.e. Mohammad Bin Qasim invaded India (Sindh) and converted some of its inhabitants to Islam.

This divisive and jingoistic philosophy very well serves the interests of the military bureaucracy that has been ruling Pakistan since inception and the allied religious and fudal classess.

As Abdul Ghaffar Khan aka Bacha Khan espoused a non-communal approach to life in which the highest spiritual act and worship was the "service of humanity" irrespective of religious affiliation and practically upheld what he thought as the true purpose of life ( evident from his personal life and joint struggle with Hindus, Sikhs, etc. for freedom), he, therefore, is an anathema to Pakistani national elite. This elite, through a systematic campaign, has tried its best to malign Abdul Ghaffar Khan, mispresent him to the world and his own people i.e. Pashtuns, make him controversial, and permanently erase him from history and the memories of the successive generation of Pashtuns. These elite want Pashtun society to evolve the Taleban way.

There is also another dimension to all this. The political, bureaucratic, economic, and intellectual elite of Pakistan predominently comes from two communities; Punjabis and Muhajirs. The other three communities of Pakistan i.e. Sindhis, Baluchis, and Pashtuns have only peripheral rule in Pakistan. The Punjabi-Muhajir elite wants to build a Pakistani nation based on Islam and Hindustani Muslim Culture. Therefore, any thing that gives these marginalized communities (i.e. Baluchis, Pashtuns, and Sindhis) a sense of identity, pride, self-esteem, and confidence is virtually unbearable for the Punjabi-Muhajir elite that dominate Pakistan.

I will request the world not to forget Bacha Khan. The values and the view of life he upheld are eternal and humanistic. His legacy belongs to the entire humanity rather than a specific community. As a Pashtun, I believe that my people i.e. Pashtuns can achieve spiritual and material success only if they follow Bacha Khan's philosophy of non-voilence and peaceful struggle for personal and collective development. Unfortunately, initially British and later Pakistani state ruthlessly suppressed his movement and philosophy. The politics of the Cold War, in which radical Islam and Jehad were used as counter to communism, also have its share in weakening Bacha Khan's "Khudayi Khidmatgar Movement".

I will further request that readers should read anthropological studies on Pashtuns than relying on superficial views about them here and there.

This is a sweeping portrait of Badshah Khan, a courageous Muslim figure. I felt inspired as I read this touching work, though I wanted more.
I wish that Khan's autobiography, My Life and Struggles would be more readily available. Also, a more detailed biography would be helpful. This book is wonderful as an overview but one who wants to dive deeper should investigate further.
This book is an excellent introduction to Badshah Khan. It shows how one can use the bismillah (in the name of God the infinitly compassionate and merciful) as a means to internalize compassion and mercy in ourselves. This is the core of Islam and of the utmost importance today.

All the Amazon reviews for this book below perceive Abdul Ghaffar Khan superficially, only from the angle of the non-violent doctrine and rural Islamic philosophy he preached, rather than any practical political accomplishments and impact on history and his society that may have been made by him - or the lack thereof. High ideals are fine, except that they are a little ephemeral as far as practical reality is concerned - unless they help achieve something effective and concrete. And sadly this is what this otherwise good and simple man failed to do. Living in the same society as he did, I will focus on him from the angle of Pashtun social realities and issues, unlike the other foreign reviewers who are just content with the usual wishy-washy praise of his non-violent Islamic ideals. It must also be kept in mind that Eknath Easwaran is a pacifist Hindu thinker, and so has written this book mainly from the viewpoint of highlighting his pacifist aspect above all else. Which is true, since Ghaffar Khan's pacifism was largely Hindu inspired, but for Pashtuns he is basically a politician and cultural figure, and pacifism is just a facet of his character, albeit a key one. 20th century Pashtun political history is an obscure issue but still crucially important, inspite of its failed and forlorn character. I consider this book as perhaps the most useful introduction so far for the foreign reader, of the man at the centre of it - and I rate it at five stars because there are only a handful of books worth the name on the international level that deal with his doings, and this one is about the story of the man himself. Ghaffar Khan aka Badshah (or Bacha) Khan was a towering figure mainly because of his personal qualities of head and heart - infinite patience, steely determination and simplicity. He himself belonged to the Hunnish origin "Khan" Pashtun landowning class. He is acclaimed by most Pathans (Pashtuns) as being the father of their "nationalism". He founded a simple rural political-cum-cultural-cum-religious movement in the countryside to "dignify" Pashtuns and their culture and language and free them from first British and then Pakistani rule. They were known as "Red Shirts", the name being derived from their uniformed cadres and were first affiliated politically with the All India National Congress of M.K.Gandhi and later merged into and then broke with many other Pakistani groupings (when they couldn't dominate them). They were finally turned into a formal political structure of their own by 1986, which came to be dominated by his late son and daughter-in-law, and is now very much their family concern, a "lucrative" political party in the hands of his grandchildren and their in-laws and other cronies. They now use his image and "philosophy" to keep their fortunes alive. He was the key regional ally of Gandhi in his non-violent independence struggle for India. His position on Pakistan was varied and inconsistent. He had earlier tried vainly to oppose the dissolution of the Turkish Caliphate in the 1920s. All these activities earned him long spells in jail. But his anti-British stance didn't stop him from getting his sons elitist British educations and properties in Britain, as well as good political positions and alliances in later Pakistani governments.

Let us now review Badshah Khan's accomplishments - and those of his successors - for those are what really count in the historical long run. What is there visible to us that he has achieved for his people through his struggle and philosophy? Nothing but a vague demand for some sort of a "Pashtun nation" of sorts that even its proponents very conveniently refrain from defining exactly - and some sort of "unity" for the Pashtun ethnicity divided between Afghanistan and Pakistan. That was never really elaborated upon either. First of all, he desired Pashtun political union with India, after it became independent; later, he toned that down and would give the impression of wanting total Pashtun independence; otherwise, he would only demand Pashtun provincial autonomy within Pakistan; and many a time, he swore fealty to Pakistan's integrity! He is also known for his advocacy of Afghanistan as the "real" Pashtun state, and that is where he now lies buried. In the end, he merely wanted to change Pakistan's Pashtun province's name from NWFP to the more realistic "Pakhtunkhwa". That was the nature of his ever efflusive politics. No doubt he talked about some vague Pashtun independence and national self-determination, but avoided really important issues like improving and reforming their cultural quality. Otherwise he was just a popular rustic social figure, wearing the rude homespun cotton garb of a village simpleton who gave his society nothing of particular merit other than going around from village to village drinking green tea with the men and extolling the virtues of rustic Pashtun goodness and their good old rough Red Shirt camaraderie. Now let us see what effect this influence of his has had. When we look at the Pashtun society in 2006 and compare it to what it was in 1930 - at the height of his movement - we see no real changes in it at all: their dirty mud caked village roads and stinking ramshackle bazaars are the same, their rich, exploitative landowning upper and noveau riche classes, who use their educational skills and government jobs to enable their legendary corruption, plunder and pelf (and who are the local comprador dependents of US global imperialism) - are the same; the great masses of the Pathan populace are boorish vicious tribesmen and illiterate peasant artisans, cultivators and daily wagers, little better than animals in any respect, going around swathed in their rough stone age felt sheets and caps and turbans, working with much the same equipment in their fields as they did 3000 years ago in the days of their Gandhara predecessors, and living likewise: the open drains by the roadside and walls serve as the men's public urinals. The only notable differences between Gandhara and now are that there are some dilapidated roads, vehicles, electricity and various other trappings of modernity that were introduced here by British influence; and lately Pashtuns have been inundated with cell phones, in an unnatural and despicable mix that I call "neolithic globalism" - and Badshah Khan or his marvellous legacy are certainly not responsible for that. (It is because of the folly and misdemeanours of the modern world that we see the likes of backward Bedouin sheikhs sporting chunky Rolex watches and Rolls Royces, and medieval Pathan ruffians of all hues - and other such "natives" - having undeserved free access to the latest electronic gadgets and vehicles, and taking them for granted. Sad paradoxes indeed). The modern state institutions that exist in the Pashtun areas under Pakistani rule are those bequeathed by former British rule, and they exist merely as a modern verneer beneath which things go on here as they have been doing for thousands of years. With these institutions existing just as rubberstamps, the real decision making power lies with informally constituted tribal councils made up of "elders" and "influentials" and "notables" at the local level, extending all the way up. Bribery, patronage and coercion and are considered normal business procedure. Nobody pays taxes, and smuggling constitutes trade. Gun running, narcotics and counterfeiting are traditional lucrative sources of income here. Merit doesn't exist. People tend to settle all disputes personally owing to police and government ineffectiveness in such a society, and given the extreme and proud Pashtun temperament - often end up using guns whatever the nature of the problem. Grasping, greed, jealousy and lawless behaviour are customarily extolled as being "manly". "Insults" have to be avenged - often by death - and so many things are regarded as insults, that normal people elsewhere can't even imagine: for instance, asking someone to remove his car parked wrongly behind yours can be regarded by him as insulting, and among most Pashtuns in general such incidents are the norm because of their lack of adherence to and cynical disregard for proper procedure and manners is so universal as they haughtily dismiss all such procedural "fuss" as being beneath strong, clever men. Even someone overtaking another person's car is often regarded by the one being overtaken as an insult... Pashtun fracticide, treachery and tribal disunity are unparalleled and legendary. Extreme religious fervour has always been the norm in this claustrophobic society. Its conventions are extolled and enforced ruthlessly. Marriages are all arranged. Women are still bought and sold in marriage deals. Polygamy is considered normal and even a prestigious aspiration. Pashtun society is infamous for its sub-human and extreme cultural attitudes regarding its women and their rights. Afghan tribesmen use the Pashto word "kaddah" for wife which literally means "baggage" or "belongings". Women are made the cornerstone of a twisted all-pervasive male "code" of feudal-tribal "honour" that rules day to day Pashtun living, involving senseless butchery, blood feuds, duels and land and money grabbing. What is more, the women willingly and "proudly" accept their place in all this too, may I inform those shocked western and other liberals who read this! (After all, it is they who make sure to pass on these noxious traditions to their sons).

In short, Pashtun society is a lowlife jungle society in every sense of the word, at a time in history when all should know and do better. It is stuck in a time warp. All this is what Badshah Khan (and now his brood) endorsed and glorified as the "Pashtun nation's precious cultural identity", a situation to protect and be proud of. His non-violence was mostly a tactic for political activities against the British, and later the Pakistani administrations. And not all of this was non-violent either, if one cares to read about the Qissa Khwani Bazaar massacre of 1930 and the Baburra massacre of 1948, where he got hundreds of his uniformed cadres slaughtered as they were preparing for confrontations. No doubt the reader will come across gushing, over-reverent Pashtun views regarding him. (An example is a Pashtun's Amazon review for the 1998 edition of this book, on a separate webpage). But these are worthless tinsel, the bombastic rigmarole typical of the blustery and exaggerated Pathan mentality and "public morality" that they show to others, especially foreigners. You can ask me instead about what Badshah Khan & Co. accomplished. I belong to the same provincial district as the Badshah Khan family, called Charsadda, and my family is even distantly related to theirs.

So honestly, what did this man achieve in his society that merits such a fuss? His successors are nowadays typical Pakistani politicians, who run an opportunist business venture of a party devoted to robbery and thuggery. That is what characterises Pakistani politics nowadays. Not only have things not changed in Pashtun society, but they have in fact taken a turn for the worse since America revived and equipped Islamic fundamentalism here to counter the USSR in the 1980s. Whatever little cosmetic good 100 years of British rule did the Pashtuns in Pakistan has now been effectively wiped out by that. Badshah Khan could not give his people what their British "oppressors" had given them, and he merely created a cheap circus troupe, a cheerleading carnival performing in red uniforms for the benefit of bored peasants and later, corrupt politicians. Although he himself definitely had a strong character, with a deep sense of genuine personal committment and he suffered greatly for his rustic nationalist causes, that alone amounts to nothing on the real level as he had nothing significant to offer and improve his society with other than calling for some ephemeral nationalist unity based on a decidedly decrepit culture. If Pathans honestly realise that, then there might be some hope for change in their dark lot. If not, then they should happily keep Badshah Khan as their icon along with their pathological, medieval state of being for as long as they exist. It is indeed sad to see how the exaltation of the lowest common denominator factor pervades all affairs of life globally nowadays - whether that means praising rarified ideals, or eulogising inferior and bad culture among other things. After 9/11, these negative potentials become very clear indeed.

This book which combines the two famous tales of man-eaters in India by Jim Corbett is highly readable and interesting. Jim Corbett has the rare ability (like J.L. Hunter's books on Africa) to put down on words which convey both emotions and atmosphere of persuing these dangerous man-eaters (those tigers and the leopard). Jim Corbetts' hunting of these man-eaters would make your heart pumps faster and cause sweat to form in your palms, so thrilling is his way to describe about these furocious Indian cats! I became acquainted with Jim Corbetts' collection of books in the l950s and still have them to these days, which I still read from time to time. I have no hesitation in recommending his work to those who want to enter the period British Raj in India, where the local population survive under the threats of these big cats. The notorious leopard that ate more than a hundred human beings should have earned reknown in the silver cinematic screen as compared to THE GHOST AND DARKNESS about Tsavo man-eating lions. Like me, once you open a book by Jim Corbett, you will find it hard to put it down until it is entirely read....

If (like me)you've read about the adventures of Jim Corbett in the works of Capstick or other writers and wanted to get a real taste of the man-eater hunter in his own words... then this book is an absolute MUST HAVE.

Corbett was the premier rogue cat exterminator in the first quarter of last century and highly regarded as the best ever. This collection contains his most challenging hunts including The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag, The Chowgarh Tigers, and The Thak Man-eater. Corbett personally had over a dozen real life assignments against known man-killers and these stories are the best of the best. His targets were reportedly responsible for over 1500 human deaths and countless injuries. Given the remote locations and the fact that deaths resulting from infection, etc. were not counted, that total can probably be doubled or even tripled.

Corbett, in his writings, takes you right into the jungles of 1920s India and you'll be hard pressed to find an author who knows more about his surroundings. His success as a hunter results from his ability to get into the minds of these man-eaters and predict their next moves. Corbett does an excellent job of explaining his thoughts as to the reasons these animals have turned to killing humans and remains very objective. Though his job was to destroy these dangerous creatures, it is clear in his writings that he had a profound respect and admiration for them.

If you are a fan of hunting stories and legends, you will love this collection of tales. Each one is an ongoing cat and mouse game between man and beast. Corbett was the best at beating the world's most dangerous animals on their own terms and Man-eaters will be a book you can't put down. Guaranteed!

This book was read nearly 15 years ago.It was one of the most exciting and unforgettable books I have come across and I am still searching for a copy.After reading some reviews of Jim Corbetts other books I am reminded of the same qualities of the man that come through in "Tiger Hunter". His humanity and regard for nature in the twenties was ahead of its time. I recall one part of his book where he uses his small dog held under his arm while walking through a bamboo thicket in search of a tiger,his rifle ready for use in the other arm.His dog would then indicate the position of the tiger by picking up its scent. This book may have been published under a different title in recent years.If any one recognises this perhaps they could let me know.

If (like me)you've read about the adventures of Jim Corbett in the works of Capstick or other writers and wanted to get a real taste of the man-eater hunter in his own words... then this book is an absolute MUST HAVE.

Corbett was the premier rogue cat exterminator in the first quarter of last century and highly regarded as the best ever. This collection contains his most challenging hunts including The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag, The Chowgarh Tigers, and The Thak Man-eater. Corbett personally had over a dozen real life assignments against known man-killers and these stories are the best of the best. His targets were reportedly responsible for over 1500 human deaths and countless injuries. Given the remote locations and the fact that deaths resulting from infection, etc. were not counted, that total can probably be doubled or even tripled.

Corbett, in his writings, takes you right into the jungles of 1920s India and you'd be hard pressed to find a man more familiar with his environment. In reading these stories, you will find that Jim Corbett is not a man out for fame, trophies, or money. In fact, his respect and admiration for the great cats that he hunts goes without question. You find no hatred for these maneaters and in his first words discusses typical reasons these cats turn to human flesh. Its refreshing to see a man in his position with such an objective point of view.

At any rate, these tales are the stuff of legend and should be savored by any person interested in hunting, adventure, or the true history of early 1900s India bush life. If you fall into any of these categories, you will love this collection. Guaranteed!

First, I must say this is a beautifully published book in every respect, as are all the books in the Adventure Library - the binding is actually sewn, the endpapers are very nice, the type is clear and easy on the eyes, and the illustrations throughout are magnificent. It is just a pleasure to hold and read this book. In an age where hardcover bindings are glued in and crack after one reading and the average book is rushed to press before the typos are weeded out, this book reminds us that a book itself can be an object of art.

This book contains the writings of Jim Corbett, a civil servant in British India who happened to be a crack shot and game tracker. Mr. Corbett was hired by the Government on several occasions to dispose of man eating leopards and tigers. What makes Jim Corbett's writings so noteworthy is their direct honesty and utter sense of humanity. Let me say upfront that I love tales of big game hunting, and I bought this book because, among big-game hunting literature, Jim Corbett's books are considered classics, along with the writings of more traditional hunters like Walter Bell and Frederick Courteney Selous. Among these big game hunting classics, Corbett's writings are unique in that, unlike most big game hunters, Corbett didn't seem to derive any "thrill of the hunt." He was doing a job he was very good at to save innocent lives, pure and simple. He had love and sympathy for the animals he was killing, and he became committed to killing them reluctantly. This feeling of respect for the animal and reluctance in its destruction is most evident in The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag.

Once committed, however, Corbett seemed to take personal responsibility for every individual the man-eating leopard killed, and his sense of depression and guilt over each fresh kill done on his watch is palpable in these pages. This particular leopard stalked travelers and towns along the pilgrim's road that led to the shrines in Kedernath and Badrinath, often selecting children or the aged. Reading Corbett's plain, effective prose, the deadly situation takes on a religious significance. Corbett is defeated several times, each failure resulting in more pilgrims killed, and the pilgrims and people in the towns came to believe that the leopard was an evil spirit that had taken on material form.

Let me wrap up by saying that Corbett was a man to be admired for his basic, down-to-earth humanity and his complete lack of self-congratulation. He was simply a man of high character and wrote plainly about being exhausted, disgusted with his failings, and just flat scared. He was also a very humble man and always seemed embarrassed by the extreme expressions of gratitude given him upon his ultimate success in bagging the man-eater.

The final scene, where villagers come to the bazaar where the leopard is on display, is extremely moving. The people came in droves and one-by-one showered Corbett's feet with flowers while reciting tales of their children or loved ones that had been killed by the man-eater. Suffice to say this is one of the most simple and beautifully rendered scenes I have read in any book.

Of all the big game hunting books I have read, Corbett's writings hold a special place for me. His skill as a hunter saved hundreds of lives, ending the suffering of more hundreds, perhaps thousands. Yet he never thought himself a hero.

Perhaps that was the very quality that made him heroic.