His canvas is big, his strokes are bold and his style, though a bit reminiscent of Rushdie, is essentially Indian epic story-telling at its best. There are loud battles and heroic deeds interspersed with quiet historical commentaries. Rajput warriors conceived from magic ladoos stride the landscape along with Brahmin intellectuals and foreign mercenaries . Hindu priests quoting the Gita and English missionaries armed with Bibles view each other across a chasm of mutual incomprehension. Printers in Calcutta quote Shakespeare, monkeys weave tales on the typewriter and reincarnation and death are everywhere.
Gods appear framed in myth and color.
Ganesha and Hanuman enjoy a sporting bet while Yama the god of death, like the chorus to a song stuck in one's head, appears and reappears at regular intervals. From Europe come adventurers attracted to India's wealth and mystery and before they know it are forever captured in the history of this fascinating country. If there is indeed a main tale, it told by Sandeep, a wandering mendicant who in turn learns it from a female ascetic who had seen an eternity pass in the few drops of water cupped in her palm. It is also the story of Sanjay or Parashar, an Avadhi Brahmin, and his journey towards immortality. Reincarnated as a monkey in the present lifetime, he is shot by Abhay Misra, newly returned from attending college in the United States.