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This book is an exercise in emotional overload. I had to read it one section at a time, interspersed with breaks to digest and recover. Every moment in this book that is happy or positive is offset with ten sadnesses and cruelties that rip your breath from your body.

The four main characters, Dina, Maneck, Ishvar and Om, are drawn with so much detail and clarity, that I felt by the end that I had traveled a road with them and knew them intimately. They are far from being the only characters to have that effect, however, the book is peppered with them. I do not think I will ever forget the beggar, Shankar, a man without legs or hands, who propels himself happily along on his wheeled board; or the Beggarmaster, an exploiter and yet a protector, who walks such a fine line that it is hard to determine whether he is a menace or a blessing; or Ashfar, a Muslim who takes two Hindi untouchables into his home and teaches them his trade, making them tailors.

When the story opens, India has already endured partition, splitting it into the Indian State and Pakistan:
A foreigner drew a magic line on a map and called it the new border; it became a river of blood upon the earth. And the orchards, fields, factories, businesses, all on the wrong side of that line, vanished with a wave of the pale conjurer's wand.

But now it is the “emergency� that they must endure, a suspension of law which literally converted Indira Gandhi from an elected official to a dictator. If even part of this novel is unexaggerated, this time was bloody, cruel, and unthinkable for the poorer people of India. I can imagine it made British rule look like a picnic.

What we see, through the lives of these four characters, is how the divisions of the past, the idea that one class of society is peopled with better human beings than another, keeps the people themselves in thrall and makes slaves of all but the wealthiest. There is no hope of bettering oneself, and most actually find their situation deteriorating instead of improving. One of the questions I kept asking was “how much can they endure?� and I believe that is a question Mistry wants us to ponder.

One of the minor characters makes the statement , "You see, you cannot draw lines and compartments, and refuse to budge beyond them. Sometimes you have to use your failures as stepping stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair." "Yes,� he repeated, “In the end it's all a question of balance." The advice is good, in fact it is perfect, but how can you balance hope with despair if you are allowed no hope at all? How can you use your failures as stepping stones if you are prohibited from ever succeeding at anything?

As the book progresses, the hope is slowly drained away, like an old-timey bathtub plug that will allow seepage around its edges until all the water is gone. From the desire to find balance, we progress to,

Where humans were concerned, the only emotion that made sense was wonder, at their ability to endure; and sorrow, for the hopelessness of it all.

Mistry seems to tell us that we lose, and lose, and lose, until we finally lose our very selves into the void that has swallowed up everything before us.

In fact, that is the central theme of my life story--loss. But isn’t it the same with all life stories? Loss is essential. Loss is part and parcel of that necessary calamity called life.

I wanted to scream at them, NO..it need not be that...but how can I when I can see that their lives have been robbed of any ability to view life as anything else? When I know that had I lived their stories, I would view my life the same way.

This book is like a weight, it drags at your heart, it pulls at your understanding of what life is and what life should be, it sings, but the song is a dirge. There are moments of humor, moments of love, moments of joy, ah--and moments of great hope, but mostly there is a sense of injustice and human cruelty and desperation.

I will be forever grateful to have read this novel. It has made an impact that I am certain to feel for some time, perhaps forever. On the other hand, I am almost certain my heart could not bear to read it again.