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This isn't a novel of place so much as family, class, nation, and all the different crazy ways they get mashed together over a generation. The relationships between the people sharing a backyard, a marriage, a room, a war, are described keenly and compassionately. But it's not really description that's at the bottom of this, it's storytelling. Sure, there's craft aplenty, but not the kind of control-freaky stuff that says: Just wait -- something important is happening but I'm not ready to tell you yet. Or there's the other kind that gets all tripped up listening to its beautiful mind. Author Vachani has enough confidence in herself to just tell the story -- or let the story tell itself. And the result a wonderful novel -- the best kind of novel. A novel that takes you someplace new and allows you to discover yourself there.

Don't be daunted by the language, which to me was something of a challenge to get into because of the passages in Hindi, the strange names (for me), and the unidentifiable food items. You won't have to give it more than a dozen pages and the challenge will feel worth it.