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peaked red cap. Baby Kochamma spent her afternoons in her garden. In sari and gum boots. She wielded an enormous pair of hedge shears in her bright-orange gardening gloves. Like a lion tamer she tamed twisting vines and nurtured bristling cacti. She limited bonsai plants and pampered rare orchids. She waged war on the weather. She tried to grow edelweiss and Chinese guava. Every night she creamed her feet with real cream and pushed back the cuticles on her toe-nails. Recently, after enduring more than half a century of relentless, pernickety attention, the ornamental garden had been abandoned. Left to its own devices, it had grown knotted and wild, like a circus whose animals had forgotten their tricks. The weed that people call Communist Patcha (because it flourished in Kerala like Communism) smothered the more exotic plants. Only the vines kept growing, like toe-nails on a corpse. They reached through the nostrils of the pink plaster gnomes and blossomed in their hollow heads, giving them an expression half surprised, half sneeze-coming. The reason for this sudden, unceremonious dumping was a new love. Baby Kochamma had installed a dish antenna on the roof of the Ayemenem house. She presided over the world in her drawing room on satellite TV. The impossible excitement that this engendered in Baby Kochamma wasn‟t hard to understand. It wasn‟t something that happened gradually. It happened overnight. Blondes, wars, famines, football, sex, music, coups d‟etat–they all arrived on the same train. They unpacked together. They stayed at the same hotel. And in Ayemenem, where once the loudest sound had been a musical bus horn, now whole wars, famines, picturesque massacres and Bill Clinton could be summoned up like servants. And so, while her ornamental garden wilted and died, Baby Kochamma followed American NBA league games, one-day cricket and all the Grand Slam tennis tournaments, On weekdays she watched The Bold and the Beautiful and Santa Barbara , where brittle blondes with lipstick and hairstyles rigid with spray
seduced androids and defended their sexual empires. Baby Kochamma loved their shiny clothes and the smart, bitchy repartee. During the day, disconnected snatches of it came back to her and made her chuckle. Kochu Maria, the cook, still wore the thick gold earrings that had disfigured her earlobes forever. She enjoyed the WWF Wrestling Mania shows, where Hulk Hogan and Mr. Perfect, whose necks were wider than their heads, wore spangled Lycra leggings and beat each other up brutally. Kochu Maria‟s laugh had that slightly cruel ring to it that young children‟s sometimes, have. All day they sat in the drawing room, Baby Kochamma on the long-armed planter‟s chair or the chaise longue (depending on the condition of her feet), Kochu Maria next to her on the floor (channel surfing when she could), locked together in a noisy television silence. One‟s hair snow white, the other‟s dyed coal black. They entered all the contests, availed themselves of all the discounts that were advertised and had, on two occasions, won a T-shirt and a thermos flask that Baby Kochamma kept locked away in her cupboard. Baby Kochamma loved the Ayemenem house and cherished the furniture that she had inherited by outliving everybody else. Mammachi‟s violin and violin stand, the Ooty cupboards, the plastic basket chairs, the Delhi beds, the dressing table from Vienna with cracked ivory knobs. The rosewood dining table that Velutha made. She was frightened by the BBC famines and television wars that she encountered while she channel surfed. Her old fears of the Revolution and the Marxist-Leninist menace had been rekindled by new television worries about the growing numbers of desperate and dispossessed people. She viewed ethnic cleansing, famine and genocide as direct threats to her furniture. She kept her doors and windows locked, unless she was using them. She used her windows for specific purposes. For a Breath of Fresh Air. To Pay for the Milk. To Let Out a Trapped Wasp (which Kochu Maria was made to chase around the house
Page 2 and 3: Arundhati Roy God of Small Things
Page 4 and 5: locked. The front verandah bare. Un
Page 6 and 7: meant for. Free funerals. Of course
Page 8 and 9: made. Lying broken on the hot churc
Page 10 and 11: desk and approached Ammu with his b
Page 12 and 13: still, tea-colored puddles the way
Page 14 and 15: his life, Khubchand, who had the be
Page 16 and 17: usiness as the Inevitable Consequen
Page 18 and 19: sternmouthed nuns seated behind her
Page 20 and 21: look straight, though it wasn‟t.
Page 22 and 23: would ask to try on their slippers
Page 24 and 25: the westernmost verandah of the Kal
Page 26 and 27: found that the senior sisters monop
Page 30 and 31: with a towel). She even locked her
Page 32 and 33: difficulty that their family had wi
Page 34 and 35: Still, to say that it all began whe
Page 36 and 37: RejOice, And again I say rej-Oice.
Page 38 and 39: money to raise a suitable dowry, no
Page 40 and 41: She didn‟t notice the single Siam
Page 42 and 43: welcomed. To Ammu, her twins seemed
Page 44 and 45: a high-wax shoulder polish. Sometim
Page 46 and 47: Ammu said that the billboard made t
Page 48 and 49: told that his moth had finally been
Page 50 and 51: effeminate pout-the kind that child
Page 52 and 53: and despise ourselves.” “Marry
Page 54 and 55: Earth Woman‟s eye. That Worse Thi
Page 56 and 57: Ammu said. Chacko said, “What‟s
Page 58 and 59: know what Malayalam was. They told
Page 60 and 61: Chacko lit a Charminar. He inhaled
Page 62 and 63: hair. Estha wondered how that could
Page 64 and 65: percent of Kerala‟s population we
Page 66 and 67: Kerala was reeling in the aftermath
Page 68 and 69: A bun. A banana. Another balled fis
Page 70 and 71: Memory was that woman on the train.
Page 72 and 73: Entomology who first noticed little
Page 74 and 75: Vellya Paapen‟s good intentions q
Page 76 and 77: emember Velutha when he left. But i
Page 78 and 79:
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
Page 106 and 107:
hostess‟s heart trapped in a bear
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 130 and 131:
Chacko, who usually wore a mundu, w
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
Page 154 and 155:
of the eternal fire became a red ro
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
Page 180 and 181:
Gloom swallowed the garden. Whole.
Page 182 and 183:
performed in the front verandah and
Page 184 and 185:
fire till fruit is soft. Sqweeze ou
Page 186 and 187:
Love-in-Tokyo. She heard a nun‟s
Page 188 and 189:
eceipt for the dues that Velutha pa
Page 190 and 191:
What was Estha sitting on? On what
Page 192 and 193:
Here they learned to Wait. To Watch
Page 194 and 195:
The boat-on-legs approached the hut
Page 196 and 197:
sudden silence from inside. Kuttapp
Page 198 and 199:
“Has Chacko Saar‟s Mol come?”
Page 200 and 201:
Hey Mr Monkey Man Why‟s your BUM
Page 202 and 203:
He squeezed the water out of it (sa
Page 204 and 205:
His skin was salty. Hers too. He le
Page 206 and 207:
“I was happy,” Ammu said, and r
Page 208 and 209:
mentioning his name, she sensed tha
Page 210 and 211:
was taut and smooth. Under her hand
Page 212 and 213:
The bedroom with blue curtains and
Page 214 and 215:
his name on it) that lay open on th
Page 216 and 217:
up-like a bubble. He wrestles it to
Page 218 and 219:
soft and womanly, a man with breast
Page 220 and 221:
mother. The air grew warmer. Less d
Page 222 and 223:
Comrade Pillai. Ayemenem‟s egg-br
Page 224 and 225:
side of her face, making her cheekb
Page 226 and 227:
out on either side of his head like
Page 228 and 229:
hooting, helpless laughter. Meanwhi
Page 230 and 231:
friend he had ever had. Not just th
Page 232 and 233:
Margaret Kochamma was physically at
Page 234 and 235:
comfortable, committed friendship.
Page 236 and 237:
had the keys. She called through th
Page 238 and 239:
“It‟s his eye,” Kochu Maria s
Page 240 and 241:
thoughts with unctuous oils. She bl
Page 242 and 243:
makes fishermen pray. At the Kottay
Page 244 and 245:
could not possibly be, unconnected.
Page 246 and 247:
When Margaret Kochamma saw her litt
Page 248 and 249:
still asleep. Chacko, on his way to
Page 250 and 251:
cupboard stood next to the table. I
Page 252 and 253:
they hung down on either side of he
Page 254 and 255:
snacks. Comrade Pillai, grateful fo
Page 256 and 257:
the house, or perhaps from the mome
Page 258 and 259:
“Yes. He is good worker,” he sa
Page 260 and 261:
completely. “That may be,” he s
Page 262 and 263:
People‟s War joined the racks of
Page 264 and 265:
een flattened into a neat illustrat
Page 266 and 267:
appreciation, and went to the door.
Page 268 and 269:
silver. It took him only a few minu
Page 270 and 271:
expeditions across the river and th
Page 272 and 273:
had gone) to divest his sister-in-l
Page 274 and 275:
to a change of faith. Fifteen years
Page 276 and 277:
A nagging sound started up in his h
Page 278 and 279:
But this time, for Ammu and her two
Page 280 and 281:
The Kottayam Police. A cartoonplato
Page 282 and 283:
slow death of dancers. The toy hist
Page 284 and 285:
history‟s henchmen. Sent to squar
Page 286 and 287:
Still they brought out the handcuff
Page 288 and 289:
“ssenetiloP,” he said. “ssene
Page 290 and 291:
The sight of Baby Kochamma made the
Page 292 and 293:
policeman‟s desk. Estha could see
Page 294 and 295:
mangled genie invoked by a modern l
Page 296 and 297:
erths green. The floor green. The c
Page 298 and 299:
“And Real Teachers teaching.”
Page 300 and 301:
irds go to die? Why don‟t dead on
Page 302 and 303:
chair below the moldy, button-eyed
Page 304 and 305:
She didn‟t see the knob of his he
Page 306 and 307:
with an equal measure of pain. As t
Page 308 and 309:
what seemed like an eternity, but w
Page 310:
He died of natural causes. That fir
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