When I first heard of the title, I wasn't the least bit interested in reading a self-obsessed woman's spiritual journey across three countries which each coincidentally began with the all too selfish letter "I". Then again, that's exactly what the book's description read out - can you blame me? Still, I went ahead and picked up Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love"; let's just say I became her in less than half a page.

The entire book has no climax (or has infinite climaxes), no shady characters or seemingly exciting edge-of-the-seat moments - it's quite simply penned by the charismatic Gilbert, who has used nothing but her very own endearing nature as the foundation for her story. The chapters are nicely laid out as prayer beads - 108 in total, each representing her getting a step closer to reaching her destination. It's appeal is truly universal (confined to the female gender, needless to say). The trick behind it is no doubt its simplicity - the ability of the author to make any reader believe s/he is capable of feeling weak at times and completely spiritually cleansed and in control at others - just as Gilbert narrates:  Of course, if you're looking to travel to either Italy, India or Indonesia, her witty anecdotes give a solid glimpse into the vastly different culture of each country.

The backdrop of "Eat, Pray, Love' was Gilbert's nasty divorce, which left her wailing on the cold, unwelcoming tiles of her bathroom floor, emotionally drained and in desperate need of change. And so, after being prompted by her inner-self to "Go back to bed, Liz",  the author decided to embark on a year long journey: to Italy for pure indulgence and sheer pleasure; to India for sacred guidance and religious tolerance and lastly, to Indonesia for the grand finale: a balancing act to culminate her travels. In terms of plot, there's really nothing more to it. We all know where she is at every point, and exactly where she will be a few pages down the line. Yet, Gilbert captivates every unexpected incident, every passing mood swing, and each emotional upheaval with such ease and humour that even her nasty urine infection makes you grin. 

Again, Gilbert's charm and wit glow through the whole book. Be it the description of her highest high or lowest low, I have yet to see such a bold writer who is just as willing to defend herself as she is to use her worrisome, unstable personality as the butt of the universe's jokes. Need I mention she's on the path to self discovery? Despite her wit and comic analysis of every situation that unfolds during her 4 month trip : "I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delirium that my pizza might actually love me, in return. I am having a relationship with this pizza..." , Gilbert knows how to portray her serious side by so vividly describing her near-God meditation experiences : "The search for contentment is, therefore, not merely a self-preserving and self-benefiting act, but also a generous gift to the world."

Be it the kind Luca Spaghetti who wallowed in pizzas and gelato with her in Rome, the holy Ashram that taught her silence and liberated her soul, or Ketut Liyer, the tiny little Balinese medicine man who sits on his porch to meditate daily, each location and character in the book helped craft this wonderful memoir just as well as I imagine they helped guide Gilbert to her true calling, to her spiritual destination.

One may criticize Gilbert's fairy-tale like eventuality of every issue that arises during her journey; I say just take it all in with a pinch of salt. "Liss" has crafted out a fairly decent read dispersed with a spectrum of moods, colours and flavours, each in fathomable moderation, and certainly cashing in everytime.