The sacred, profane, and the psychedelic

The story of ganja is the story of humanity.

- AMRITESH MUKHERJEE

It's a story of survival, rebellion, and reinvention. The cannabis plant has seen it all: Crossed mountains and empires, persisted across millennia, flourished in uncharted and unfamiliar terrains, both geographical and cultural. In Ananda, Karan Madhok captures this journey in all its layered glory. It's part pilgrimage, part inquiry, and part celebration—a history, a science, a lawbook, and a love letter all rolled into one.

Starting in the Himalayan hush of Himachal, winding through the coastal dreams of Kerala, Ananda floats from region to region. Each stop brings a new strain, a new state of mind, and, yes, a new high—both literal and metaphorical. Like the plant it follows, the book's journey is layered, tangled, and wonderfully complex.

Take, for instance, the most commonly used Indian argument for the legalization of cannabis: The harking back to our ancient culture—to temples, myths, and centuries-old habits. One only needs to visit the ghats of Varanasi to find hordes of sages smoking day in and out, chillams passed from one hand to the next, with government-approved bhang shops scattered through the city. But reverence often mingles with misinformation. It's a country as packed with humans as with superstitions and untested treatments, particularly under the guise of systems such as Ayurveda and Homoeopathy.