Shantaram

I ordered a copy of Shantaram online for $4.39 as I attempted to put off my workday.

I was going to order it from Amazon and utilize my prime free two-day shipping but the $5 price hike didn’t seem worth it. Plus, shopping around served my larger goal of putting my workday off.

I was proud when I found a copy in “good” condition on a used book site for $5 less than the Amazon copy. In India, that price difference converts to a few hundred rupees which is a very notable difference. And Shantaram does detail an Indian world of struggle so it seemed only fitting to shop for the deal.

I remember when I first heard about the book. I had just finished having dinner in a Sri Lankan beach town with a couple I had got to know. Over after a dinner conversation, one of the duo told me she hoped to get through her copy of Shantaram before leaving Sri Lanka so she could pass it on to me.

I remember feeling flattered by the connection she saw between us, why else would she want to pass this book on to me? She was cool and all of the worldly things I wanted to be. I felt cool having dinner with her and her spouse and would feel even cooler reading a book she had previously thumbed through.

And since she wanted to tether herself to me with this Sister Hood of the Traveling Pants style book offering she must have thought I was cool too.

Was it truly possible that this artist who traveled the world for a living viewed me as not on the outsiderr? Was I an insider among the coolest people I had ever met?