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The God of Small Things - Get a Free Blog

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daughter‟s body laid out on the chaise longue in the drawing room<br />

<strong>of</strong> the Ayemenem House. Even from a distance, it was obvious that<br />

she was dead. Not ill or asleep. It was something to do with the<br />

way she lay. <strong>The</strong> angle <strong>of</strong> her limbs. Something to do with Death‟s<br />

authority. Its terrible stillness.<br />

Green weed and river grime was woven into her beautiful<br />

redbrown hair. Her sunken eyelids were raw, nibbled at by fish. (O<br />

yes they do, the deepswimming fish. <strong>The</strong>y sample everything.) Her<br />

mauve corduroy pinafore said Holiday! in a tilting, happy font.<br />

She was as wrinkled as a dhobi‟s thumb from being in water for<br />

too long.<br />

A spongy mermaid who had forgotten how to swim.<br />

A silver thimble clenched, for luck, in her little fist.<br />

Thimbe-drinker.<br />

C<strong>of</strong>fin-cartwheeler.<br />

Margaret Kochamma never forgave herself for taking Sophie<br />

Mol to Ayemenem. For leaving her there alone over the weekend<br />

while she and Chacko went to Cochin to confirm their return<br />

tickets.<br />

It was about nine in the morning when Mammachi and Baby<br />

Kochamma got news <strong>of</strong> a white child‟s body found floating<br />

downriver where the Meenachal broadens as it approaches the<br />

backwaters. Estha and Rahel were still missing. Earlier that<br />

morning the children–all three <strong>of</strong> them–hadn‟t appeared for their<br />

morning glass <strong>of</strong> milk. Baby Kochamma and Mammachi thought<br />

that they might have gone down to the river for a swim, which was<br />

worrying because it had rained heavily the previous day and a<br />

good part <strong>of</strong> the night. <strong>The</strong>y knew that the river could be<br />

dangerous. Baby Kochamma sent Kochu Maria to look for them<br />

but she returned without them. In the chaos that ensued after<br />

Vellya Paapen‟s visit, nobody could remember when they had<br />

actually last seen the children. <strong>The</strong>y hadn‟t been uppermost on<br />

anybody‟s mind. <strong>The</strong>y could have been missing all night.<br />

Ammu was still locked into her bedroom. Baby Kochamma

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