Nagarajan Vasudeva Rao

The most stupid book. Does not make any meaning, head or tails. The author Raja Rao must have had good bouts of punch with whiskey and ganja to write this bunch of words filling almost 200 pages. And all book reviews in the net including Google or amazon to this one are alike- simply reprinting the back cover stuff that was once drafted during print. Ha haa...'wonderfully engaging', stimulating...., metaphysical backdrop and what not. The book has a liberal spray of sanskrit lines and sprinklings of French, then suddenly the mention of Gandhi, Nehru, André Malraux pop up, keeping the reader confused and wading through the litter of words (if one cared to endure the most boring reading, guessing what he is trying to say, then suddenly taken somewhere else). None would have read it fully or substantially to get a hang of what is conveyed. Perhaps, that is the Meaning of India. The author Raja Rao somehow managed throughout his career bluffing around like this with his other books and earned himself a respectable name as a philosophical writer, erudite thinker, 'auteur' to put it in French. He kept his currency with passerby intellectuals and professors in the universities of America and France. It is astonishing that he gathered notable awards for his works that have actually perpetuated India un-understood (to use a peculiar phrase like him) The joke is, to sell the book the back cover says, 'written in rythmic, sparkling style which Raja Rao made his own'. A sheer worthless book. Waste of time and money.