“Go to Old Delhi, and look at the way they keep chickens in the market. Hundreds of pale hens and brightly coloured roosters, stuffed tightly into wire mesh cages. They see the organs of the brothers around them. They know they are next, yet they cannot rebel. They do not try to get out of the coop. The very same thing is done with humans in this country.”
“We came to an enclosure with tall bamboo bars, and there… Was a tiger. Not any kind of tiger. The creature that gets born only once every generation in the jungle.”
A novel about urban India and the hidden stories behind the millions of nameless faces on the streets. In a country where being born into poverty is the norm rather than the exception, Balram’s voice paints us a picture of life in the cities of India. What determines whether a person will fight his fate, or accept it, as part of the chicken coop? What will make a person realise he is a White Tiger? Potential hidden but present?
This novel was so captivating that I finished it within a span of a few days, reading at every possible lunch break and train ride. It certainly opened my eyes to the less glamorous aspect of life for the millions of common people in one of the most populous countries on earth. What we see as tourists and visitors definitely do not give us the full picture. Novels like these, although possibly criticised for being “disloyal” and “harsh”, certainly gives us much needed alternative and honest perspectives.
Along Life's Path 