'A Literary Masterpiece'

Shantaram 

by Gregory David Roberts (born Gregory John Peter Smith, 1952-) was first published in 2004. Born in Melbourne in 1952 and living in Australia in the 1980’s, “Gregory David Roberts, an armed robber and a heroin addict, escaped from an Australian prison to India, where he lived in a Bombay slum. There he established a free health clinic and also joined the mafia, working as a money launderer, forger and street soldier. He found time to learn Hindi and Marathi, fall in love, and spend time worked over in an Indian Jail.” (Time Out) 

Gregory David Roberts

He also went on to be in a Bollywood film and fought with the Mujahedeen in Afghanistan against Russia. This is the third time Roberts wrote Shantaram, having the first two copies destroyed by the prison he was in.

HM Prison Pentridge in Coburg, Victoria, Australia. The prison Roberts escaped from.

Mumbai

Personally I couldn’t’ find the right words to describe Shantaram or give it the tribute it deserves so I found a review which best suits my judgement. “Shantaram is a novel of the first order, a work of extraordinary art, a thing of exceptional beauty. If someone asked me what the book was about I would have to say everything, everything in the world.” (Pat Conroy) 

Mumbai slums - boats like these are probably washed up from the monsoon season

After surviving the events dealt with in Shantaram, he was captured in Germany in 1990 and eventually extradited to Australia. On completing his prison sentence, he established a small multi-media company and is now a full-time writer. He lives in Melbourne.

The slums in Mumbai 

Quotes

“My heart moved through deep and silent water.  No-one, and nothing, could really hurt me.  No-one, and nothing, could make me very happy.  I was tough, which is probably the saddest thing you can say about a man.” 

“Heroin is a sensory deprivation tank for the soul.

Floating on the dead sea of the drug stone, there's no sense of pain, no regret or shame, no feelings of guilt or grief, no depression and no desire. The sleeping universe enters and envelops every atom of existence. Insensible stillness and peace disperse fear and suffering. Thoughts drift like ocean weeds and vanish into distant, grey somnolency, unperceived and indeterminable. The body succumbs to cryogenic slumber: the listless heart beats faintly, and breathing slowly fades to random whispers. Thick nirvanic numbness clogs the limbs, and downward, deeper, the sleeper slides and glides towards oblivion, the perfect and eternal stone.”

The Chillum Pipe (used of smoking marajuana). Roberts mentions the use of this many times.

“If fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke.”

“Her heart beating its secrets so furiously that she feared he would hear it.”

“Our breathing was like the whole world chanting prayers.”

“Cruel laughter is the way cowards cry when they’re not alone, and causing pain is how they grieve.”

“Sometimes we love with nothing more then hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that’s all we have — to hold on tight until dawn.”

Michael Kiwanuka - Winner of BBC's sound of 2012 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-16424437

Mumbai - the gateway of India at dusk