It is one of finest written book in modern literature, and a heart braking one -- as reviews suggest, though not a love story. I wouldn't tell you name of the book though.
I made this pleasant mistake when I accompanied this book in the same packet with a half full bottle of scotch and kept it by side of my berth before I went to sleep. Some under intoxicating effect of liquor and some in sweet dreams of north-eastern Himalaya - where I was travelling to, I woke up well at 9:00 AM and it gave a good deal of time to mix up the scotch with pages of the book.
On reaching Darjeeling, I dried the book up in Himalayan Winds kept in yard of hotel under sun light that reflected back from white peaks of Kangchenjunga.
On returning back home only I learned, soaked pages smell more great than smell of a fresh book when I started reading that book. Since then, I have tried reading this book many times. But, I am not sure why, I always leave the book in between. And after a couple of months I read it again from beginning. And read till a little further where I had left it last time. Book is so interesting that I almost have to fight out my heart to not to read.
But I think it is either memories of Himalaya, that I want to preserve in my heart for as long I can. Or the heart-breaking end of the novel. Or my own ways to console my heart -- I am unsure but this book is a special treasure to me that I shall cherish.
