The god of small things in English

C H A P T E R 21 THE COST OF LIVING When the old house had closed its bleary eyes and settled into sleep, Ammu, wearing one of Chacko’s old shirts over a long white petticoat, walked out onto the front verandah. She paced up and down for awhile. Rest... more

C H A P T E R 20 THE MADRAS MAIL And so, at the Cochin Harbor Terminus, Estha Alone at the barred train window. Ambassador E. Pelvis. A millstone with a puʃ. And a greenwavy, thickwatery, lumpy, seaweedy, ɻoaty, bottomless bottomful feeling. His trun... more

C H A P T E R 19 SAVING AMMU At the police station, Inspector Thomas Mathew sent for two CocaColas. With straws. A servile constable brought them on a plastic tray and oʃered them to the two muddy children sitting across the table from the Inspector,... more

C H A P T E R 18 THE HISTORY HOUSE A posse of Touchable Policemen crossed the Meenachal River, sluggish and swollen with recent rain, and picked their way through the wet undergrowth, the clink of handcuʃs in someone’s heavy pocket

C H A P T E R 17 COCHIN HARBOR TERMINUS In his clean room in the dirty Ayemenem House, Estha (not old, not young) sat on his bed in the dark. He sat very straight. Shoulders squared. Hands in his lap. As though he was next in line for some sort of in... more

C H A P T E R 16 A FEW HOURS LATER Three children on the riverbank. A pair of twins and another, whose mauve corduroy pinafore said Holiday! in a tilting, happy font

C H A P T E R 15 THE CROSSING It was past midnight. The river had risen, its water quick and black, snaking towards the sea, carrying with it cloudy night skies, a whole palm frond, part of a thatched fence, and other gifts the wind had given it.

C H A P T E R 14 WORK IS STRUGGLE Chacko took the shortcut through the tilting rubber trees so that he would have to walk only a very short stretch down the main road to Comrade K. N. M. Pillai’s house. He looked faintly absurd, stepping over the car... more