This book had been sitting on my shelves for years, and as I slowly make my way through my unread books I don't know why this wasn't one of the first I picked up.

I don't read books (or watch movies) to relate to them; if something isn't 'realistic' I have no qualms with it - this is fiction. I don't entirely understand why some people feel a need to relate to every song, novel, or movie they take in. I enjoy the worlds I escape into. However, I was surprised to be reading this novel about an Indian couple who raised their children in the USA, and find myself relating to it. There are things about myself I saw in the main character, Gogol, because my mother was born and lived in Panama until she married my father and moved to the USA. There were certain aspects about his story that rang true for me, though I thought perhaps these truths were only evident to me and not something others encountered as well.

Jhumpa Lahiri wrote a story that spoke to me personally in a way no other book before it has, and therefore, I do believe it's been welcomed into my favorite books of all time. I understood these characters and I loved them; I rejoiced with them and I wept with them. I loved this book.