The book jacket of Eat, Pray, Love carries a quote by Julia Roberts saying it is the book she’s presenting all her girlfriends. Like women everywhere, Roberts, currently shooting for the much anticipated film adaptation in India, relates to this 2006 bestseller by Elizabeth Gilbert, about her year-long travelogue of self-discovery and spiritual seeking in Italy, India and Indonesia.

Ever since the Beatles discovered Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, India has been a destination for Westerners seeking alternative routes to peace and fulfilment. Richard Gere is a regular in Himachal Pradesh after he discovered Buddhism and the Dalai Lama. The Osho Commune in Pune has many more foreign visitors than Indian. Madonna and Sting are famous converts to Ashtanga Yoga and age-old Indian techniques in meditation. A stay at an Indian ashram is a must for international backpackers even if finding themselves may not be a top priority. Considering the nation’s expertise in self-healing and our revered spiritual philosophy, we must be a very happy country if we have in corporated any of our own legendary wisdom. Interestingly, a study by the World Values Survey suggests that nations do not necessarily get happier as they get richer.

Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love is self-deprecatingly witty and effortlessly readable while documenting details of her allegedly traumatic life. She is brutally honest about her bitter divorce and bouts of suicidal depression. Her constant state of emotional flux keeps the reader’s interest even though her shrill musings on why she’s a wreck could appear to have more to do with her utter self-absorption and inherent narcissism than anything else. Still, problems real or imaginary remain problems if they’re in your head and the excellent logic of how bad other people’s lives are doesn’t always work.

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