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The God of Small Things - Get a Free Blog

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People‟s War joined the racks <strong>of</strong> broken airplanes in his<br />

glass-paned cupboard. After Paradise Pickles closed down, some<br />

rice fields were sold (along with their mortgages) to pay <strong>of</strong>f the<br />

bank loans. More were sold to keep the family in food and clothes.<br />

By the time Chacko emigrated to Canada, the family‟s only<br />

income came from the rubber estate that adjoined the Ayemenem<br />

House and the few coconut trees in the compound. This was what<br />

Baby Kochamma and Kochu Maria lived <strong>of</strong>f after everybody else<br />

had died, left, or been Returned.<br />

To be fair to Comrade Pillai, he did not plan the course <strong>of</strong><br />

events that followed. He merely slipped his ready fingers into<br />

History‟s waiting glove.<br />

It was not entirely his fault that he lived in a society where a<br />

man‟s death could be more pr<strong>of</strong>itable than his life had ever been.<br />

Velutha‟s last visit to Comrade Pillai–after his confrontation<br />

with Mammachi and Baby Kochamma–and what had passed<br />

between them, remained a secret. <strong>The</strong> last betrayal that sent<br />

Velutha across the river, swimming against the current, in the dark<br />

and rain, well in time for his blind date with history.<br />

Velutha caught the last bus back from Kottayam, where he<br />

was having the canning machine mended. He ran into one <strong>of</strong> the<br />

other factory workers at the bus stop, who told him with a smirk<br />

that Mammachi wanted to see him. Velutha had no idea what had<br />

happened and was completely unaware <strong>of</strong> his father‟s drunken visit<br />

to the Ayemenem House. Nor did he know that Vellya Paapen had<br />

been waiting for hours at the door <strong>of</strong> their hut, still drunk, his glass<br />

eye and the edge <strong>of</strong> his ax glittering in the lamplight, waiting for<br />

Velutha to return. Nor that poor paralyzed Kuttappen, numb with<br />

apprehension, had been talking to his father continuously for two<br />

hours, trying to calm him down, all the time straining his ears for<br />

the sound <strong>of</strong> a footstep or the rustle <strong>of</strong> undergrowth so that he<br />

could shout a warning to his unsuspecting brother.<br />

Velutha didn‟t go home. He went straight to the Ayemenem<br />

House. Though, on the one hand, he was taken by surprise, on the

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