According to enough, Quakerite Bradford Smith, life in India pulses and throbs as in the world. So too does the author's Jumbo-sized junke, . Traversing an Asian mammo filled with the solid, the squalid and the saintly. Fortrait of India overflown with data and dramatics: in Mother India the family is often the world, sexual differentiation gets blurred: men are soft, women aggressive; char is personal, not institutional; many peasants have never heard of Nehru; social emancipation is relatively stagnant, the caste system still reigns; rows wander the Delhi streets, 50 million monkeys freely eat house and lot; non is the highest but bloody hell breaks out both personally in civil conflicts and as a policy , Kashmir etc.; the Congress Party's pragmatic rationalism is at with the Gandhian Idea of village self-sufficiency sans industrial development; Red Influence is on the wane, thanks to Russian shifts, China gobblings and the Kerala failure; fear of pollution underlies everything; holy men and places are everywhere. Best moments: author's meeting with Vinoba who successfully demanded land from the haves for the have-nots, and with Radhakrishnan who attacks K's Lotus and Robot bias against Zen and Yoga. A loving and lively report of a highly contradictory land, genuinely informative.