Episodes

  • The Cost of Living

    The Cost of Living
    Dec 27 2024
    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. Restless. Feral. Then she sat on the wicker chair below the moldy, button-eyed bison head and the portraits of the Little Blessed One and Aleyooty Ammachi that hung on either side of it. Her twins were sleeping the way they did when they were exhausted—with their eyes half open, two small monsters. They got that from their father
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    16 mins
  • The Madras Mail

    The Madras Mail
    Dec 26 2024
    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 trunk with his name on it was under his seat. His tiɽn box with tomato sandwiches and his Eagle ɻask with an eagle was on the little folding table in front of him
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    13 mins
  • Saving Ammu

    Saving Ammu
    Dec 25 2024
    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, their heads only a little higher than the mess of ɹles and papers on it
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    10 mins
  • The History House

    The History House
    Dec 24 2024
    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
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    14 mins
  • Cochin Harbor Terminus

    Cochin Harbor Terminus
    Dec 23 2024
    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 inspection. Or waiting to be arrested. The ironing was done. It sat in a neat pile on the ironing board. He had done Rahel’s clothes as well.
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    10 mins
  • A few hours later

    A few hours later
    Dec 22 2024
    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
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    12 mins
  • The crossing

    The crossing
    Dec 21 2024
    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.
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    5 mins
  • Work is Struggle

    Work is Struggle
    Dec 20 2024
    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 carpet of dry leaves in his tight airport suit, his tie blown over his shoulder. Comrade Pillai wasn’t in when Chacko arrived. His wife, Kalyani, with fresh sandalwood paste on her forehead, made him sit down on a steel folding chair in their small front room and disappeared through the bright pink, nylon-lace curtained doorway into a dark adjoining room, where the small ɻame from a large brass oil lamp ɻickered. The cloying smell of incense drifted through the doorway, over which a small wooden placard said Work is Struggle. Struggle is Work. Chacko was too big for the room. The blue
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    12 mins