The culmination of Ravi Kalia's trilogy on the formation of capital cities in postcolonial India, Gandhinagar joins the historian's other two volumes, on Chandigarh and Bhubaneswar, in tracing India's efforts to establish its twentieth-century architectural identity. In following the development of these cities, Kalia recounts India's progression through precolonial, British, modern, and postmodern theory and practice, particularly the architectural ideology propagated by Western a rchitects Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn. Kalia explains that Gandhinagar, the capital of Gujarat in western India, became a battleground for the competing ideals that had surfaced during the building of Chandigarh and Bhubaneswar. The mill owners of the neighboring city of Ahmedabad, backed by Indian architect and planner Balkrishna Doshi, wanted the American Louis Kahn to build Gandhinagar as a worthy rival to Le Corbusier's Chandigarh. There was, however, tremendous political pressure to make Gandhinagar a purely Indian enterprise, partly because the state of Gujarat was the birthplace of Mahatma Gandhi. Doshi and then by American-trained H. K. Mewada, who had apprenticed with Le Corbusier in Chandigarh Kalia shows that, unlike the other two cities, Gandhinagar would become emblematic of Gandhian ideals of swadeshi (indigenous) goods and swaraj (self-rule). Exploring the impact of modernist architecture on India as a whole, Kalia suggests that the style gained acceptance because its parsimonious designs and unadorned spaces never represented a threat to a religiously pluralist country anxious to create a secular identity. He explains how two competing versions of Indian history and ideology - Ganhdi's and Jawaharlal Nehru's - employed modemism's ideals for their own separate ends. Serving two masters, as Kalia illustrates, created constrictions and tensions evident in the building of Gandhinagar and in the careers of many Indian architects, including Doshi, Charles Correa, and Achyut Kanvinde.

Narendra Modi, the BJP's prime ministerial candidate, is powerful, popular and controversial. With the general elections due to conclude in May 2014, Modi's campaign rallies have drawn unprecedented crowds. Yet, the man remains an enigma. His supporters regard him as the visionary, decisive leader India needs today. His detractors see him as a polarizing fi gure. Is Modi authoritative or authoritarian? Decisive or divisive? A team player or a loner? Andy Marino recorded interviews with Narendra Modi during more than half-a-dozen exclusive meetings - unprecedented access to a very private man. What emerged is this riveting, objective biography of a man who could be India's prime minister. Not shying away from the controversies that have dogged Narendra Modi, including the Gujarat riots and questions about the Gujarat model of governance and development, this political biography provides an unbiased account of possibly the most important figure in Indian politics today. Marino records hour-by-hour details of the 2002 Gujarat riots, presenting a balanced analysis of that raw wound on India's polity. It also reveals hitherto unpublished, authenticated documents, which makes this one of the most important books of 2014. The author analyses Narendra Modi's values, the people who shaped his thinking and the sort of national leader he will make. Personal details of Modi's early life, his wanderings in the Himalayas between the ages of seventeen and nineteen, his rise through the political ranks, his vision for India and his personal philosophy on religion and politics are revealed in a book that is lucid, fast-paced and readable. Narendra Modi: A Political Biography is an insightful, exhaustive and impeccably researched account of the ascent of a political leader.

Europe's place in history is re-assessed in this first comprehensive history of the ancient world, centering on the Indian Ocean and its role in pre-modern globalization. Philippe Beaujard presents an ambitious and comprehensive global history of the Indian Ocean world, from the earliest state formations to 1500 CE. Supported by a wealth of empirical data, full color maps, plates, and figures, he shows how Asia and Africa dominated the economic and cultural landscape and the flow of ideas in the pre-modern world. This led to a trans-regional division of labor and an Afro-Eurasian world economy. Beaujard questions the origins of capitalism and hints at how this world-system may evolve in the future. The result is a reorienting of world history, taking the Indian Ocean, rather than Europe, as the point of departure. Volume I provides in-depth coverage of the period from the fourth millennium BCE to the sixth century CE.

Journeys are different; destination is the same. Perspectives are different; purpose is the same. Words are different; vision is the same. truths are different; Truth is the same.

This book explores the understudied and often overlooked subject of African presence in India. It focuses on the so-called Sidis, Siddis or Habshis who occupy a unique place in Indian history. The Sidis comprise scattered communities of people of African descent who travelled and settled along the western coast of India, mainly in Gujarat, but also in Goa, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, Sri Lanka and in Sindh (Pakistan) as a result of the Indian Ocean trade from the thirteenth to nineteenth centuries. The work draws from extant scholarly research and documentary sources to provide a comprehensive study of people of African descent in India and sheds new light on their experiences. By employing an interdisciplinary approach across fields of history, art, anthropology, religion, literature and oral history, it provides an analysis of their negotiations with cultural resistance, survivals and collective memory. The author examines how the Sidi communities strived to construct a distinct identity in a new homeland in a polyglot Indian society, their present status, as well as their future prospects. The book will interest those working in the fields of history, sociology and social anthropology, cultural studies, international relations, and migration and diaspora studies.

For eleven-year-old Gopal and his family, life in their rural Indian village is over: We stay, we starve, his baba has warned. With the darkness of night as cover, they flee to the big city of Mumbai in hopes of finding work and a brighter future. Gopal is eager to help support his struggling family until school starts, so when a stranger approaches him with the promise of a factory job, he jumps at the offer. But Gopal has been deceived. There is no factory, just a small, stuffy sweatshop where he and five other boys are forced to make beaded frames for no money and little food. The boys are forbidden to talk or even to call one another by their real names. In this atmosphere of distrust and isolation, locked in a rundown building in an unknown part of the city, Gopal despairs of ever seeing his family again. But late one night, when Gopal decides to share kahanis, or stories, he realizes that storytelling might be the boys' key to holding on to their sense of self and their hope for any kind of future. If he can make them feel more like brothers than enemies, their lives will be more bearable in the shop—and they might even find a way to escape.

When debating the need for prophets, Muslim theologians frequently cited an objection from a group called the Barāhima – either a prophet conveys what is in accordance with reason, so they would be superfluous, or a prophet conveys what is contrary to reason, so they would be rejected. The Barāhima did not recognise prophecy or revelation, because they claimed that reason alone could guide them on the right path. But who were these Barāhima exactly? Were they Brahmans, as their title would suggest? And how did they become associated with this highly incisive objection to prophecy? This book traces the genealogy of the Barāhima and explores their profound impact on the evolution of Islamic theology. It also charts the pivotal role that the Kitāb al-Zumurrud played in disseminating the Barāhima’s critiques and in facilitating an epistemological turn in the wider discourse on prophecy (nubuwwa). When faced with the Barāhima, theologians were not only pressed to explain why rational agents required the input of revelation, but to also identify an epistemic gap that only a prophet could fill. A debate about whether humans required prophets thus evolved into a debate about what humans could and could not know by their own means.