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Chacko, who usually wore a mundu, was wearing a funny tight suit and a shining smile. Ammu straightened his tie, which was odd and sideways. It had had its breakfast and was satisfied. Ammu said, “What‟s happened suddenly to our Man of the Masses?” But she said it with her dimples, because Chacko was so burst. So very happy. Chacko didn‟t slap her. So she didn‟t slap him back. From the Sea Queen florist Chacko had bought two red roses, which he held carefully. Fatly. Fondly. The airport shop, run by the Kerala Tourism Development Corporation, was crammed with Air India Maharajahs (small medium large), sandalwood elephants (small medium large) and papier-mâchâ masks of kathakali dancers (small medium large). The smell of cloying sandalwood and terry-cotton armpits (small medium large) hung in the air. In the Arrivals Lounge, there were four life-sized cement kangaroos with cement pouches that said USE ME. In their pouches, instead of cement joeys, they had cigarette stubs, used matchsticks, bottle caps, peanut shells, crumpled paper cups and cockroaches. Red betel spitstains spattered their kangaroo stomachs like fresh wounds. Red-mouthed smiles the Airport Kangaroos had. And pink-edged ears. They looked as though if you pressed them they might say Mama in empty battery voices. When Sophie Mol‟s plane appeared in the skyblue Bombay-Cochin sky the crowd pushed against the iron railing to see more of everything.
The Arrivals Lounge was a press of love and eagerness, because the Bombay-Cochin flight was the flight that all the Foreign Returnees came home on. Their families had come to meet them. From all over Kerala. On long bus journeys. From Ranni, from Kumili, from Vizhinjam, from Uzhavoor. Some of them had camped at the airport overnight, and had brought their food with them. And tapioca chips and chakka velaichathu for the way back. They were all there–the deaf ammoomas, the cantankerous, arthritic appoopans, the pining wives, scheming uncles, children with the runs. The fiancâes to be reassessed. The teacher‟s husband still waiting for his Saudi visa. The teacher‟s husband‟s sisters waiting for their dowries. The wire-bender‟s pregnant wife. “Mostly sweeper class,” Baby Kochamma said grimly, and looked away while a mother, not wanting to give up her Good Place near the railing, aimed her distracted baby‟s penis into an empty bottle while he smiled and waved at the people around him. “Sssss...” his mother hissed. First persuasively, then savagely. But her baby thought he was the pope. He smiled and waved and smiled and waved. With his penis in a bottle. “Don‟t forget that you are Ambassadors of India,” Baby Kochamma told Rahel and Estha. “You‟re going to form their First Impression of your country.” Two-egg Twin Ambassadors. Their Excellencies Ambassador E(lvis). Pelvis, and Ambassador S(tick). Insect. In her stiff lace dress and her fountain in a Love-in-Tokyo, Rahel looked like an Airport Fairy with appalling taste. She was hemmed in by humid hips (as she would be once again, at a funeral in a yellow church) and grim eagerness. She had her grandfather‟s moth on her heart. She turned away from the screaming steel bird in the skyblue sky that had her cousin in it, and what she saw was this: redmouthed roos with ruby smiles moved cemently across the airport floor.
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Arundhati Roy God of Small Things
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locked. The front verandah bare. Un
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meant for. Free funerals. Of course
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made. Lying broken on the hot churc
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desk and approached Ammu with his b
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still, tea-colored puddles the way
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his life, Khubchand, who had the be
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usiness as the Inevitable Consequen
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sternmouthed nuns seated behind her
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look straight, though it wasn‟t.
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would ask to try on their slippers
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the westernmost verandah of the Kal
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found that the senior sisters monop
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peaked red cap. Baby Kochamma spent
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with a towel). She even locked her
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difficulty that their family had wi
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Still, to say that it all began whe
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RejOice, And again I say rej-Oice.
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money to raise a suitable dowry, no
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She didn‟t notice the single Siam
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welcomed. To Ammu, her twins seemed
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a high-wax shoulder polish. Sometim
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Ammu said that the billboard made t
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told that his moth had finally been
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effeminate pout-the kind that child
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and despise ourselves.” “Marry
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Earth Woman‟s eye. That Worse Thi
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Ammu said. Chacko said, “What‟s
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know what Malayalam was. They told
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Chacko lit a Charminar. He inhaled
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hair. Estha wondered how that could
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percent of Kerala‟s population we
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Kerala was reeling in the aftermath
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A bun. A banana. Another balled fis
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Memory was that woman on the train.
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Entomology who first noticed little
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Vellya Paapen‟s good intentions q
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emember Velutha when he left. But i
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though they had successfully conclu
Page 80 and 81: eyelids the light was bright and ho
Page 82 and 83: and Rahel thought it was a nice pho
Page 84 and 85: Anabs-urd Litt-le Bird Is popping o
Page 86 and 87: them with the boys‟ luggage, his
Page 88 and 89: white-tiled bathroom, with sea-secr
Page 90 and 91: “Will you be okay?” Ammu said,
Page 92 and 93: grandmother‟s cans, Estha Alone o
Page 94 and 95: eathing people and hairoil. And old
Page 96 and 97: In the lobby, the orangedrinks were
Page 98 and 99: Estha went behind the Refreshments
Page 100 and 101: and pointy shoes. “You mustn‟t
Page 102 and 103: the question. I cannot love them. I
Page 104 and 105: “No. Thank you.” Estha looked a
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Page 108 and 109: window. He could taste the hot, sal
Page 110 and 111: “Goodnight,” Estha said, too si
Page 112 and 113: Those last few tortured nights befo
Page 114 and 115: wondered idly if it had indeed been
Page 116 and 117: He stayed in constant touch with th
Page 118 and 119: no more than a swollen drain now. A
Page 120 and 121: labeled with edifying placards that
Page 122 and 123: Rahel tried to walk past unnoticed.
Page 124 and 125: “That is most unfortunate,” he
Page 126 and 127: efore the doctor saw him, and to co
Page 128 and 129: pressed together, smiles frozen on
Page 132 and 133: Heel and Toe Heel and Toe Long flat
Page 134 and 135: Ammu said, “Can you see her, Rahe
Page 136 and 137: eeze. Adoor Basi, the most popular,
Page 138 and 139: And Later became a horrible, menaci
Page 140 and 141: It would bea. “All right,” Ammu
Page 142 and 143: Ambassador Estha and Ambassador Rah
Page 144 and 145: “I‟m not,” Rahel said. “You
Page 146 and 147: Baby Kochamma suggested a car song.
Page 148 and 149: with spit, and taken half the paper
Page 150 and 151: and I was Little Nehru. Ammu had co
Page 152 and 153: white, it means it isn‟t ripe. Wh
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Page 156 and 157: Nine steep steps led from the drive
Page 158 and 159: despised her anyway. Shopkeeper‟s
Page 160 and 161: on her behind. Kochu Maria‟s fan
Page 162 and 163: were let down. The gauze doors of t
Page 164 and 165: Even after her cornea transplant, M
Page 166 and 167: The man or her own child. Or just t
Page 168 and 169: “Where‟s Estha Mon?” Velutha
Page 170 and 171: And truth be told, it was no small
Page 172 and 173: “Oower Kochamma,” the Blue Army
Page 174 and 175: Kochamma, who didn‟t answer. “V
Page 176 and 177: Little Girls Playing. Sweet. One be
Page 178 and 179: spent a whole day saying. She and E
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Gloom swallowed the garden. Whole.
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performed in the front verandah and
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fire till fruit is soft. Sqweeze ou
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Love-in-Tokyo. She heard a nun‟s
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eceipt for the dues that Velutha pa
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What was Estha sitting on? On what
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Here they learned to Wait. To Watch
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The boat-on-legs approached the hut
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sudden silence from inside. Kuttapp
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“Has Chacko Saar‟s Mol come?”
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Hey Mr Monkey Man Why‟s your BUM
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He squeezed the water out of it (sa
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His skin was salty. Hers too. He le
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“I was happy,” Ammu said, and r
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mentioning his name, she sensed tha
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was taut and smooth. Under her hand
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The bedroom with blue curtains and
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his name on it) that lay open on th
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up-like a bubble. He wrestles it to
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soft and womanly, a man with breast
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mother. The air grew warmer. Less d
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Comrade Pillai. Ayemenem‟s egg-br
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side of her face, making her cheekb
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out on either side of his head like
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hooting, helpless laughter. Meanwhi
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friend he had ever had. Not just th
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Margaret Kochamma was physically at
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comfortable, committed friendship.
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had the keys. She called through th
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“It‟s his eye,” Kochu Maria s
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thoughts with unctuous oils. She bl
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makes fishermen pray. At the Kottay
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could not possibly be, unconnected.
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When Margaret Kochamma saw her litt
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still asleep. Chacko, on his way to
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cupboard stood next to the table. I
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they hung down on either side of he
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snacks. Comrade Pillai, grateful fo
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the house, or perhaps from the mome
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“Yes. He is good worker,” he sa
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completely. “That may be,” he s
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People‟s War joined the racks of
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een flattened into a neat illustrat
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appreciation, and went to the door.
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silver. It took him only a few minu
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expeditions across the river and th
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had gone) to divest his sister-in-l
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to a change of faith. Fifteen years
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A nagging sound started up in his h
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But this time, for Ammu and her two
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The Kottayam Police. A cartoonplato
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slow death of dancers. The toy hist
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history‟s henchmen. Sent to squar
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Still they brought out the handcuff
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“ssenetiloP,” he said. “ssene
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The sight of Baby Kochamma made the
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policeman‟s desk. Estha could see
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mangled genie invoked by a modern l
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erths green. The floor green. The c
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“And Real Teachers teaching.”
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irds go to die? Why don‟t dead on
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chair below the moldy, button-eyed
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She didn‟t see the knob of his he
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with an equal measure of pain. As t
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what seemed like an eternity, but w
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He died of natural causes. That fir
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