The author explains Ayurveda together with Vedic astrology to illuminate a deeper perspective on Ayurvedic therapy. The emphasis is on the fundamental importance of the Seven Disease Tendencies over Constitution, an approach that achieves simpler and more effective healing.

As an Ayurveda practitioner for the last nine years I highly recommend this book which offers a new slant on this ancient system of healing. This book changed my thinking about Ayurveda, and truly "revolutionized" the way I work with clients. In it, the author claims to have rediscovered a more ancient system of Ayurveda that goes back to a time when Ayurveda and a True Science Of The Stars were one system. This system focuses less on Constitution, and instead places emphasis on the way the body goes out of balance, which he calls the Seven Disease Tendencies. This is a controversial book because it challenges our assumptions about Ayurveda, but if approached with an open mind it could yield great riches for you.

This book not only gives one of the best summaries of modern day Ayurveda I have ever read, but also shows how modern Ayurveda must be complimented by a more ancient Ayurvedic model to be truly effective. It's thesis is a radical one so, if you are attached to traditional Ayurveda, be forewarned.

I am passionate for non-fiction books about India so this book was on my personal reading list. I will mention this: Something about Mr. Dimock's writing reminds me of that "lost" writing style of the 19th century. This is an absolutely fabulous book that unfortunately will probably be overlooked time and time again by readers. This is a book I will buy and always keep because it is so perfect in every way!

The great strength of this book lies in its brevity. Two-hundred pages divided by twenty chapters makes for fast reading, covering a wide variety of subjects. Edward Dimock is a man of the world; his depth of experience allows him to write with both fondness and irreverence. Early on he confesses himself to be an old fuddy-duddy, guided by the ancient Manu (like Dante and Vergil), yet is not above numerous and much-appreciated pop references to anything from Mel Brooks to Star Trek. For those of us who know choice little of India (let alone been there) Mysteries of the East is both didactic and hilarious. Dimock's a wonderful writer, quickly establishing a humorous tone while discussing otherwise weighty matters. The rhythm he works himself into had me anticipating his editorializing, even in the midst of the more luxurious description. He's always "on", always has a little something to say about his travels and discoveries, be they an American movie star in Agra or the island of Diu where Dimock "communes with the spirits" (my realization of what he meant by this caused me to laugh out loud; I was finally hooked). Dimock is a witty observer of detail, with a well-educated sense of comparison and contrast. The similarity between Santa Claus and Ganesha is nicely drawn, while the author is careful to distinguish between Sir Richard Burton and just plain Richard Burton. The Indians and Sahibs are allowed to speak for themselves either charmingly or boisterously, quick character sketches that add flavor to the cultural mix. Dimock also knows his Vishvamitra and Herodotus and lets these old-timers have their say. But as he himself writes, "It is no news to anybody that language is more than words", and some very fine study is put into his silent characters as well, everyone from Yusuf the waiter to Nikki the German shepherd. Dimock takes an obvious delight in the menagerie that is India, from thieving monkeys to a charging water buffalo, and a most striking non-speaking role is played by Gopal the elephant, whose astuteness and venerability Dimock compares favorably to his own father. He's correct in describing the glance of the polite pachyderm as sagacious: some animals--say, cows,--look right through you, but elephants look right at you . . . appraisingly. The change of scene in Part III of the book caught me somewhat off-guard as Dimock leaves India and travels to Aden and then back to New England. I thought the whole book was supposed to be about India, but I got to thinking about the title; the East. After all, Aden is in the Middle East, and Massachusetts is on the east coast, and both are plenty mysterious to me as well. The most memorable advice Dimock provides if one is to truly see India is that one must: 1. Meet a maharaja, whether he be sober or inebriated, 2. Ride an elephant to see an outdoor drama without trampling any of the locals, 3. See a ruby-eyed idol deep in a rain-forest straight out of The Jungle Book, 4.Take in a live performance by a cobra and its handler in the street, or at least stumble upon one of the great snakes out in the bush, or (Shiva willing) in one's own bathtub.

Mr. Dimock possesses a perspective on India that, few if any, Westerners will ever have. He is probably the only Western author who has been able to notice and accept the chaos of India. Mr. Dimock aslo has the unique insight of perceiving the order that arises from this choas. In his book he presents India to us as a place of constant comedy the humor of which is best understood by someone who is fimilar with the region and it's people. India comes across as a place of extremes where even the animals have a personality and express it in their own right. The book was funny and nostalgic at the same time. The ideas would have been best expressed in an Indian language but the limiations of English as a language used to recount India is also very amusing. The book is very highly recommended especially to those who live in mortal fear and awe of the place. Thanks! B

In a crowning achievement to a long and illustrious career, Prof. Dimock has provided us with a wonderful new version of this essential text. For a long time the most available version of CC has been the Hare Krsna (ISKCON) 17 volume set. It is a relief to have this careful, brilliantly done and very readable version in one volume without the eccentric "purports" of the Hare Krsna version. Although a hefty academic text, this book is quite an easy read. Cannot be too highly recommended.

Dimock and Stewart's translation of the Caitanya Caritamrta (The Nectar of the Acts of Caitanya) is a readable and extremely well-researched edition of the biography of Sri Caitanya, a 16th century Bengali ascetic who is believed by Gaudiya Vaisnavas to have been the androgynous dual incarnation of Krsna and Radha. The lengthy introduction and notes on translation provide readers unfamiliar with the tradition with all the background they need to appreciate the layers of meaning hidden in the text and the narrative strategies of Krsnadasa that come across so well in this translation. For more background, read Dimock's 1966 book, "The Place of the Hidden Moon". a true classic in the literature of South Asian studies. Highly recommended.

I loved it. I love Dubois' fatherly spirit, his international wisdom, and the strength he has in showing this side of himself, inspite of threats that this kind of writing could end his writing career . I have read many of DuBois books, however, this is the very first time that I have even heard (1997) about a romance book. And told that it's the only one. Still, from Dubois-WOW!! And to hear him say that he really likes this kind of writing, that it's his favorite book, but others discouraged him, both Black and White. I feel very special and priviledged (though its public) to know this romantic side of Dubios, compared to his other more well-known writings. I'm glad this side of him didn't get lost.

His words of encouragement still speaks volumes to me today. Its been awhile since I read the book, and I know this posting is old. Anyway, I happen to have a book here with me that has a quote from Dubios that I believe is from Dark Princess. "I have known the women of many lands and nations, I have known, seen, and lived beside them, but none have I known more sweetly feminine, more unansweringly loyal, more desperately earnest, and more instinctively pure in body and soul than the daughters of my African-American mothers. This then-a little thing-to their memory and inspiration."

How insightful and sensitive to write such encouraging words for all the world to read. Still, I'd like to know more on what Dubois did to combat sexism in his time. I've read only small pieces of Dubios' feelings on how African American females were being slighted, I think. Did he ever speak directly to the sexism within the African-American community?

Although Mr. Corbett was an Englishman living in India, he recounted and related the daily, ordinary life, with ordinary people of India in 1930 - 60. It is unusual in that it is not about the British Raj in India, quite different in fact. This book is very hard to locate but well worth trying to find it to read, as it describes how the ordinary people lived in India at that time, in villages, and jungles as well. This book is dedicated to "my friends the poor of India" for which it is a best seller in India. Mr. Corbett was a "big game hunter" but later became a true conservationist - which is more common now but not so back then. A truly remarkable chronicle.

The name Jim Corbett conjures up images of a trigger-happy hunter out to wipe out man-eating tigers from the face of the earth. One picks up a Corbett book anticipating the thrill and the attendant suspense associated with the confrontation between two deadly opponents: the man and the beast. "My India" however, is a deviation from the usual pattern as Corbett makes the common and poor men of India his subject, although the pleasant sensation and suspense of the hunting books do not subside a bit here.

Jim Corbett, whose forefathers had come to India from Britain to serve the empire, worked in the railways. For 21 years he handled transshipment of goods at Mokameh Ghat on river Ganga, in North Bihar, on a contract from railways. This period coincided with the most formative years of Jim's life. The humanist, the adventurer and the artist in him found the best nourishing ground at this picturesque and busy place. Jim also lived at Kaladhungi village near Nainital with his sister Maggie. Their cottage, nestling 'at a cross-roads at the foot of the hills and on the border line between the cultivated land and the forest' provided Jim with another vantage point to observe human nature closely. The autobiographical "My India" weaves together many anecdotes involving Corbett's fellow workers, his living quarters in Mokameh Ghat and Kaladhungi and his adventures into the wild. These personal accounts are awash with his deep understanding of and sympathy for the poor men of India, to whom the book has been dedicated.

'In my India', Corbett writes in his dedication, 'there are four hundred million people, ninety per cent of whom are simple, honest, brave, loyal, hard-working souls whose daily prayer to God, and to whatever Government is in power, is to give them security of life and property to enable them to enjoy the fruits of their labours.' These qualities, most of which he himself possessed, attracted Corbett to the multitude.

The keen observer that Corbett was never fails to see a single act of bravery or honesty among his people. In 'The Brothers' he recounts a tale of great human courage and compassion, which characterizes the people he loved. A young man pulls his severely mauled brother from the clutch of an attacking tiger and drags and carries him miles together in hilly terrain for safety and medical attention.

If you are looking for the heart-stopping suspense of the hunting stories, "My Story" has plenty to offer. In the last piece, 'Life at Mokameh Ghat' one reads with bated breath, Corbett's description of an encounter with an angry cobra in his small bathroom in complete darkness. 'So here I was shut in a small dark room with one of the most deadly snakes in India.' Corbett survives the ordeal in the end, and runs out of the house to rejoice with the crowd that had gathered, only to realize that he 'had no clothes on.'

"My Story" is full of life's vivid sketches painted with care, sympathy and large-hearted humour: the hallmarks of Carpet Saheb, as Jim was known among his poor Indian admirers. A must-read for anyone interested in north Indian life during the dying years of British Raj.

Ingram, Edward, In Defence of British India (London, 1984), xvii, 236 pp.

Amidst numerous complaints in the preface of In Defence of British India, Edward Ingram protests that he is tired of 'big questions and answers'. Despite this gripe, the 'defence' of British India, as the reader soon discovers, provides some of the biggest answers to history's biggest questions from Napoleon to the Great War. The defence of British India, we learn, was not so much about British India per se as Britain's perceived need to defend its crown jewel by warding off recurring Russian and French threats ' at times real and at times imagined ' by preparing to meet them beyond India's expanding frontiers.

This book is a series of essays, a few of which have been somewhat updated, that together form an at times repetitive explanation of how British foreign entanglements in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries habitually led an ignorant corps of diplomats and officials blundering into the affairs of the undefined region between India and the Middle East. At the heart of this collection is an obsession with the definition, interpretation, and outcome of the 'Great Game' in Asia. By examining the economic, social, tactical, strategic, geographic, and political concerns and manoeuvres of the Britain's government and most famous chartered company, Ingram reinforces his a priori deduction that the 'Great Game' was all about creating a buffer zone around India and, if possible, doing this cheaply and with someone else's army. This need existed not only because India was vulnerable to attack; British India was also vulnerable to internal rebellion and outside attack might provide a catalyst to collapse a house of cards very quickly indeed.

There are two features of Ingram's method that are striking: he has a very impressive faculty with eighteenth- and nineteenth-century sources; and his writing is remarkably disengaged from twentieth-century historiography. For instance, his chapter 'The End of the Spectre of the Overland Trade' draws upon a vast array of correspondence and official memoranda whilst avoiding all twentieth-century scholarship except perhaps the work of PROs and recent editors that have compiled the evidence he brings to his disposal.

It is therefore not surprising that 'In Defence of British India' is a double entendre that works both historically and historiographically. The former usage constitutes Ingram's ostensible thesis: defending India was the most important aspect of Empire and underlay all other foreign affairs; the latter showcases his purpose, namely that this simple but overlooked feature of historiography has been sadly neglected and led to all sorts of frivolous deductions. It is not until his final chapter that one sees how his historiographical agenda coincides conveniently with a career spent in diplomatic history, and how his obsession with the history of Russian expansion coincides with the renewal of Cold War anxieties prevalent at the time this collection went to print.

After providing a series of entertaining narratives focused mostly around the turn of the nineteenth century that surely miss out on little of Britain's diplomatic failings Ingram reconnects with the world of late twentieth-century scholarship. Here he takes aim at what he feels is being neglected: the need to understand how the British in India thought and worked as opposed to the British in London and Westminster; and the need to avoided second-guessing the ostensible claims of British diplomats and colonial officials when searching for explanations for their at times bizarre behaviour.

Indeed, one of the strongest points of this book is Ingram's keen understanding of how colonial government and administrators worked and thought. Their vision on the ground in India ' typically selfish and pecuniary - ultimately superseded that of any visionaries in Whitehall or even the company's London office. Unfortunately, Ingram's articulation of the needs and aims of the Indian peoples themselves is somewhat less lavish in texture.

Ingram's prose is both enchanting and at times annoying. He describes such a rich historical setting that one need not have a vast knowledge of the historiography of his field to appreciate the significance of the narrative he so vividly lays out as well as his untypical insights. On the other hand, his political quips and aphoristic generalisations pester the reader who is looking only to accumulate survey knowledge. At times the reader feels drawn into a compelling narrative filled with arcane but meaningful insights; at other times he feels treated to the fixations and maxims of a pompous Oxonian trying too hard to be witty. At all times, however, it is a very entertaining read.

Amidst numerous complaints in the preface of In Defence of British India, Edward Ingram protests that he is tired of 'big questions and answers'. Despite this gripe, the 'defence' of British India, as the reader soon discovers, provides some of the biggest answers to history's biggest questions from Napoleon to the Great War. The defence of British India, we learn, was not so much about British India per se as Britain's perceived need to defend its crown jewel by warding off recurring Russian and French threats - at times real and at times imagined - by preparing to meet them beyond India's expanding frontiers.

This book is a series of previously published essays, a few of which have been somewhat updated, that together form an at times repetitive explanation of how British foreign entanglements in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries habitually led an ignorant corps of diplomats and officials blundering into the affairs of the undefined region between India and the Middle East. At the heart of this collection is an obsession with the definition, interpretation, and outcome of the 'Great Game' in Asia. By examining the economic, social, tactical, strategic, geographic, and political concerns and manoeuvres of the Britain's government and most famous chartered company, Ingram reinforces his a priori deduction that the 'Great Game' was all about creating a buffer zone around India and, if possible, doing this cheaply and with someone else's army. This need existed not only because India was vulnerable to attack; British India was also vulnerable to internal rebellion and outside attack might provide a catalyst to collapse a house of cards very quickly indeed.

There are two features of Ingram's method that are striking: he has a very impressive faculty with eighteenth- and nineteenth-century sources; and his writing is remarkably disengaged from twentieth-century historiography. For instance, his chapter 'The End of the Spectre of the Overland Trade' draws upon a vast array of correspondence and official memoranda whilst avoiding all twentieth-century scholarship except perhaps the work of PROs and recent editors that have compiled the evidence he brings to his disposal.

It is therefore not surprising that 'In Defence of British India' is a double entendre that works both historically and historiographically. The former usage constitutes Ingram's ostensible thesis: defending India was the most important aspect of Empire and underlay all other foreign affairs; the latter showcases his purpose, namely that this simple but overlooked feature of historiography has been sadly neglected and led to all sorts of frivolous deductions. It is not until his final chapter that one sees how his historiographical agenda coincides conveniently with a career spent in diplomatic history, and how his obsession with the history of Russian expansion coincides with the renewal of Cold War anxieties prevalent at the time this collection went to print.

After providing a series of entertaining narratives focused mostly around the turn of the nineteenth century that surely miss out on little of Britain's diplomatic failings, Ingram reconnects with the world of late twentieth-century scholarship. Here he takes aim at what he feels is being neglected: the need to understand how the British in India thought and worked as opposed to the British in London and Westminster; and the need to avoided second-guessing the ostensible claims of British diplomats and colonial officials when searching for explanations for their at times bizarre behaviour.

Indeed, one of the strongest points of this book is Ingram's keen understanding of how colonial government and administrators worked and thought. Their vision on the ground in India - typically selfish and pecuniary - ultimately superseded that of any visionaries in Whitehall or even the company's London office. Unfortunately, Ingram's articulation of the needs and aims of the Indian peoples themselves is somewhat less lavish in texture.

Ingram's prose is both enchanting and at times annoying. He describes such a rich historical setting that one need not have a vast knowledge of the historiography of his field to appreciate the significance of the narrative he so vividly lays out as well as his untypical insights. On the other hand, his political quips and aphoristic generalisations pester the reader who is looking only to accumulate survey knowledge. At times the reader feels drawn into a compelling narrative filled with arcane but meaningful insights; at other times he feels treated to the fixations and maxims of a pompous Oxonian trying too hard to be witty. At all times, however, it is a very entertaining read.

One seldom encounters the stories of the many thousands of individuals in the "tail" units which backed up the "teeth" units. Yet many in these so-called "rear-echelon" units faced just as much danger and hardship as any other serviceman in WWII. Remember the tail is always much longer than the teeth. Remember that many of the "tailers" were right up there in the front lines or flying over the enemy. When one considers the risks taken by combat cameramen at Stalingrad on both sides, on bombing runs, and on the targets below, in order to make the photo record that we marvel at today and without which we would have no History Channel with World at War and other series. Consider the clumsy cameras of the time, and the fact that one couldn't fight and take photos at the same time. It's a mighty wonder that the ground photographers did not get the combat badges that other front-liners got. At least the Army Air Forces airmen got the Air Medal for flight in combat.(QMC "kickers" who flew over the Japanese held areas in Burma also earned well-deserved Air Medals) As these brave individuals, all of whom are well into their seventies now, continue to pass on, we must hope they record their experiences in print as well as they did on film. In the case of CBI there was a mighty small head and a very long (and slim) body and tail Thanks for making the record you did, fellows. Carter Rila

I wasn't particularly looking forward to reading A Passage to India. Forster, in my mind, seemed to suggest implausible romance, pretty scenery, and Helena Bonham Carter, and I'd never actually bothered to read one of his books.
Now I can hardly wait to read another. I absolutely loved this book, without quite knowing why it was so magical. I do know that I found the first chapter absolutely perfect, as it allows the reader to go into a "descriptive section" daze, and then jerks are attention suddenly back to the Marabar caves. And with the exception of one or two patches that dragged a little but were soon over, I found the rest of the book equally magnetic.
I enjoyed Fortster's deftness in portraying all the characters, not so much as individuals, but in terms of how they felt about each other. In particular I loved the relationship between Fielding and Aziz, while understanding completely the dislike each had for aspects of the others character.
The ending is marvelous. So often books that hold your interest like this just peter out, but it's refreshing to find an author like Forster who understands that what makes for an ideal conclusion is to give the readers a taste of what they want, and then hold back the last little bit.

Forster writes about the ruling British and their tentative relationship with India in the early part of the 20th Century. While Kipling wrote of an India of intrigue and adventure, Forster's India is one of mistrust and racism between the British and the natives.

The main charcter is a Moslem Indian, Dr. Aziz,who is abused by his British superior and learns to mistrust all British. Aziz meets Mrs. Moore , a new arrival, by chance at a mosque. After first ridiculing her, Aziz develops a deep respect for Mrs. Moore who he believes possesses more Oriental qualities than European qualities. Through Mrs. Moore, Aziz develops a frienship with Fielding, an educator, very interested in discovering what India is all about.

Mrs. Moore's is accompanied to India by her future daughter-in-law, Adela Quested. Although extremely naive, Adela has the same inquisitiveness as does Fielding. Aziz desperately wants to impress his new British friends and he invites Adela, Mrs. Moore, and Fielding to be his guest as he shows them the Marbar caves, a local landmark.

On the fateful day all parties realize that the tour is not a good idea but each is reluctant to cancel the event. The mystery of what occurred within the caves and the aftermath is the crux of the story.

The incident at the cave does irrevocable harm to each of the main characters but particularly Mrs. Moore whose spirit totally disintegrates and Adeala who is rediculed and villified by the British.

Finally at the end, Aziz and Fielding repair their friendship as best they can, each realizing that Indians and Brits will enjoy a suspicious friendship at best.

What makes A Passage to India so different from other Orientalist works (and Orientalist it is) is that Forster, being a homosexual, understood the oppression that the colonized Indians had to live with. This understanding permeates throughout the book. From his piercing insights into the nature of Anglo-Indian women (why were they more racist? They were threatened to be replaced by Indian men in the minds of the colonizers). The relationship between Fielding and Aziz is startlingly sharp; people from the time must have been delusional not to see the homoerotic message that Forster was trying to portray. It's such a shame that the politics of the book (which Forster really wanted to downplay -- notice that neither Aziz nor Fielding care about them) so often overshadow the message of male-male relationships that Forster cared so much about. It's sad though that he still fell into the trap of thinking that no Englishman or woman could completely remove themselves from the racism that dominated the culture. What does he do the one's who try? Adela has an nervous breakdown, Mrs. Moore dies after realizes the futlity of love, and Fielding is not only a repressed homosexual, and therefore a social outcast, but sacrifices his ideals in the end to marry an English country woman. The ending perfectly sums up how Forster himself must have felt -- remember that when you want to cry at the unfairness of it all.

I don't think it's really necessary for me to comment on the brilliance of the prose, or the entertaining primary narrative since I'm sure that's been done to the upteenth time. However, the book holds so much that I couldn't not share some of my thoughts. Please read A Passage to India as soon as you can.

In all its complexity, this really is a simple book: it is simply an exuberant vision of India.

I wanted a book that would give me an English Colonialist view of India. It is a rather hard thing to find: few English Victorian writers of any consequence wrote about India. It wasn't until later, ie, Orwell and Forster, that it became a popular topic, and they wrote with a vastly different attitude. I just wanted to know what an Englishman thought of the "jewel in the English colonial crown".

What I found is exactly what I wanted: so exactly that it caught me off guard. Kipling offers no politics, neither "problems of England in India" or "The White Man's Burden". Kim is, quite simply, a vision of India. Exuberant, complex, vibrant, full of energy and life and change. This is Kipling's India. It is a beautiful, mysterious, dangerous, amazing place.

There is a hint of mass market fiction here -- the basic structure being a young boy, a prodigy, uniquely equipped to help the adults in important "adult" matters -- reminds me of Ender's Game or Dune (both books I loved, but not exactly "literature". But perhaps this isn't either. Such was the claim of critic after critic. But anyway.) Yet in reality it is only a device -- an excuse for Kipling to take his boy on adventures and to immerse us more fully in the pugnant waters of Indian culture -- or cultures.

As far as the English/Colonialism question goes, perhaps the real reason Kipling drew so much flak is because he deals his English critics the most cruel insult -- worse than calling them evil, or stupid, or wrong, he implies that they just don't matter that much. Kipling's India is a diverse place, with a plethora of people groups in it, divided by caste, religion, ethnicity, whatever. And the English, the "Sahibs"? Another people group. That's all. They don't dominate or corrupt or really change anything in any profound way; they just sort of become part of the broiling swirl of cultures and peoples that is India.
--
williekrischke@hotmail.com

if you've taken remedial english classes all through school (or the parts of which you finished, at least), then you shouldnt be surprised when you're confused by words longer than 6 letters or those which havent been used for a couple hundred years or so. The plot's only boring if you don't pay attention, and hey- don't get mad 'cause kim went to school in the middle of the book- it's supposed to be somewhat like kiplings life ( read the short story Baa Baa Black sheep, you'll see ). it's not about a little british boy overcoming India either. there's nothing british about kim but his blood, and if you can't see past that, you're more racist than you accuse kipling of being. I loved the book. I found the plot adventurous, the protagonist easily likeable, and the vernacular not too confusing- for what it was (and I read it in my junior year of public high school). I also thought the characters weren't just stereotypes. (by the way, you shouldn't presume to know more about a culture you've never experienced than a writer who had spent his life immersed in it.) in short, if you have any sense of adventure, you'll be in love with this book. if, however, your eyes rarely leave the confines of this computer screen, the entire book may be a wholly foreign and confusing thing to you.

I first read this book-or tied to-when I was 10. Having already read "Nicholas Nickleby" and enjoyed it I hadn't expected "Kim" to be too hard. Halfway through the book I had to give up in disgust- it was too deep for me. Later on I came to love the book.It flung me into colonial India with all its native intrigue and wonder. We follow the journeys of an eleven year old boy,Kim or "Friend of all the World", a white brought up among the natives. We watch him travel around India with an old lama who becomes something like a fatherto KIm. The book is jam-packed with characters that will dazle you but that are still believable. People complain of the jargon Kipling uses; to me it was an added beauty, it made the atmosphere more tangible. Another thing I loved was the habit Kipling has of inserting verses before some chapters.At first you might not understand the relevance of the verse but the time you've finished the chapter you'll get it. This is a book that deserves to be respected, but also to be actally thought about, too.You have to have a certain amount of patience. Once you get over that, this book will enthrall you.

I would like to say this book has a pretty good overview of tourist attractions, accommadations and travellers tips. It is however at times just rude to India and Hinduism in particular. It always mentions Buddhism first such as "Buddhist and Hindu temples" and the like. It also has the nerve to say of Varanasi, "before it was the most sacred place in the world for Hindu, the Buddha preached his first sermon near here". Besides this and incorporating the bogus Aryan Invasion Theory in the history section, I would recommend this book to readers but beware of some of its facts

I took this book on my first trip to India and once there didn't even use it. We didn't go to the tourist-y places so didn't need the book, and the places we went weren't in the book. The history and culture sections were useful in pre-trip preparation. We found clean and inexpensive hotels and restaurants on our own; it wasn't difficult. While in India I did find a book called Culture Shock: India. This is the book I wish I would have found and purchased before my trip and it's the one I've been recommending to everyone (even if they don't ask me!). Go to India without a guidebook!

I have a different perspective on this book than a "regular tourist". I was looking for the following -
a) a reasonably clear overview of each city or historical site, when it was built, and by whom, and why it is of importance to tourists and to India
b) reasonable detail for cities, outside of the usual tourist attractions
c) some attractions/ towns not listed in most tourist books.

I was checking the sections on West Bengal and Orissa in particular (having lived and travelled in both states). I used those sections to compare between this guide (the 1999 edition) and Lonely Planet etc. For my purposes, Rough Guide was the most helpful - in describing places, in offering different ways to get around (with notes on how safe it is for women etc), in evaluating the historical and/or tourist appeal of places, and so forth. I think I fell for this guide when I noticed the level of detail it had on eating places and places of worship in a residential area in South Calcutta (not to mention a critique of the Pipli handicraft industry).

The little vignettes on getting around in a Hindu holy site (and in temples, where allowed in) were also quite interesting. I have never been one to make pilgrimages, but if I wanted to do so, this would be useful to have along. The history section was surprisingly thorough and balanced - and I learned new things not covered in Indian history textbooks in school.

Is this book perfect? Of course not. But a guidebook generally cannot cater to all tastes equally. For me (a non-tourist but an NRI returning home), it did quite well (even though Jammu & Kashmir were omitted but Ladakh was included). It sparked in me the determination to visit Madhya Pradesh (one of the few states I have never visited) and parts of the Northeast. I would love to see a Rough Guide or the equivalent that focuses more on Eastern and North-eastern India, but until this, this works fine.