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She didn‟t see the knob of his head bobbing over the dark river. He could have been anything. A floating coconut In any case she wasn‟t looking. Her head was buried in her arms. He watched her. He took his time. Had he known that he was about to enter a tunnel whose only egress was his own annihilation, would he have turned away? Perhaps. Perhaps not Who can tell? He began to swim towards her. Quietly. Cutting through the water with no fuss. He had almost reached the bank when she looked up and saw him. His feet touched the muddy riverbed. As he rose from the dark river and walked up the stone steps, she saw that the world they stood in was his. That he belonged to it. That it belonged to him. The water. The mud. The trees. The fish. The stars. He moved so easily through it. As she watched him she understood the quality of his beauty. How his labor had shaped him. How the wood he fashioned had fashioned him. Each plank he planed, each nail he drove, each thing he made had molded him. Had left its stamp on him. Had given him his strength, his supple grace. He wore a thin white cloth around his loins, looped between his dark legs. He shook the water from his hair. She could see his smile in the dark. His white, sudden smile that he had carried with him from boyhood into manhood. His only luggage. They looked at each other. They weren‟t thinking anymore. The time for that had come and gone. Smashed smiles lay ahead of them. But that would be later. Lay Ter. He stood before her with the river dripping from him. She stayed sitting on the steps, watching him. Her face pale in the moonlight. A sudden chill crept over him. His heart hammered. It was all a terrible mistake. He had misunderstood her. The whole thing was a figment of his imagination. This was a trap. There
were people in the bushes. Watching. She was the delectable bait. How could it be otherwise? They had seen him in the march. He tried to make his voice casual. Normal. It came out in a croak. “Ammukutty… what is it–” She went to him and laid the length of her body against his. He just stood there. He didn‟t touch her. He was shivering. Partly with cold. Partly terror. Partly aching desire. Despite his fear his body was prepared to take the bait. It wanted her. Urgently. His wetness wet her. She put her arms around him. He tried to be rational. What‟s the worst thing that can happen? I could lose everything. My job. My family. My livelihood. Everything. She could hear the wild hammering of his heart. She held him till it calmed down. Somewhat. She unbuttoned her shirt. They stood there. Skin to skin. Her brownness against his blackness. Her softness against his hardness. Her nut-brown breasts (that wouldn‟t support a toothbrush) against his smooth ebony chest. She smelled the river on him. His Particular Paravan smell that so disgusted Baby Kochamma. Ammu put out her tongue and tasted it,. in the hollow of his throat. On the lobe of his ear. She pulled his head down toward her and kissed his mouth. A cloudy kiss. A kiss that demanded a kiss-back. He kissed her back. First cautiously Then urgently. Slowly his arms came up behind her. He stroked her back. Very gently. She could feel the skin on his palms. Rough. Callused. Sandpaper. He was careful not to hurt her. She could feel how soft she felt to him. She could feel herself through him. Her skin. The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke. She felt him shudder against her His hands were on her haunches (that could support a whole array of toothbrushes), pulling her hips against his, to let her know how much he wanted her. Biology designed the dance. Terror timed it. Dictated the rhythm with which their bodies answered each other. As though they knew already that for each tremor of pleasure they would pay
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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
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eyelids the light was bright and ho
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and Rahel thought it was a nice pho
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Anabs-urd Litt-le Bird Is popping o
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them with the boys‟ luggage, his
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white-tiled bathroom, with sea-secr
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“Will you be okay?” Ammu said,
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grandmother‟s cans, Estha Alone o
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eathing people and hairoil. And old
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In the lobby, the orangedrinks were
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Estha went behind the Refreshments
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and pointy shoes. “You mustn‟t
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the question. I cannot love them. I
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“No. Thank you.” Estha looked a
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hostess‟s heart trapped in a bear
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window. He could taste the hot, sal
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“Goodnight,” Estha said, too si
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Those last few tortured nights befo
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wondered idly if it had indeed been
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He stayed in constant touch with th
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no more than a swollen drain now. A
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labeled with edifying placards that
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Rahel tried to walk past unnoticed.
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“That is most unfortunate,” he
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efore the doctor saw him, and to co
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pressed together, smiles frozen on
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Chacko, who usually wore a mundu, w
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Heel and Toe Heel and Toe Long flat
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Ammu said, “Can you see her, Rahe
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eeze. Adoor Basi, the most popular,
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And Later became a horrible, menaci
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It would bea. “All right,” Ammu
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Ambassador Estha and Ambassador Rah
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“I‟m not,” Rahel said. “You
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Baby Kochamma suggested a car song.
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with spit, and taken half the paper
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and I was Little Nehru. Ammu had co
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white, it means it isn‟t ripe. Wh
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of the eternal fire became a red ro
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Nine steep steps led from the drive
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despised her anyway. Shopkeeper‟s
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on her behind. Kochu Maria‟s fan
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were let down. The gauze doors of t
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Even after her cornea transplant, M
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The man or her own child. Or just t
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“Where‟s Estha Mon?” Velutha
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And truth be told, it was no small
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“Oower Kochamma,” the Blue Army
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Kochamma, who didn‟t answer. “V
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Little Girls Playing. Sweet. One be
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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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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
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Page 268 and 269: silver. It took him only a few minu
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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
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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
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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 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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