Book review -god of small things

The god of small things by Arundhati Roy

Image result for estha the god of small thingsLovely cover , lot of fame and intricate writing.

Portrayed gods own country in its true colours.

I am reading this book for about a month now, I do have to agree the fact that this book as old I am and has acquired quite an enormous amount critical acclaim, indeed a man booker prize winner.

I have never mulled over what others claim this book is, perhaps I have no idea to scamper behind the crowd and praise the book,my review is exactly what I feel about the book, call me rebel I don’t care.

The thing, I adored and despised the most, was her writing .I loved her writing so did I detest it .

I loved the way she described an ancient house. Here it goes

It was a beautiful house.White-walled once. Red-roofed. But painted in weather-colours now. With brushes dipped in nature’s palette. Mossgreen. Earthbrown. Crumbleblack. Making it look older than it really was .Like sunken treasure dredged up from the ocean bed. Whale kissed and barnacled. Swaddled in silence. Breathing bubbles though it is broken windows.

how lucid? how magnificent? dandy I would agree, her writings on other pages were no less. It was trailing across providing glory to the paper which bore the ink. She has evinced the most insignificant detail with utmost care.

Still, the whopping good turned out to be cause for colossal disdain. There are portions where you feel too much detailing is eminently gross, at certain sections she illustrates about some awful real life gestures, human habits, phew Roy you shouldn’t make your reader puke out just by your words.

The book uses a lot of Malayalam words sprinkling beauty and realness to the writing, I am not arguing if story is good or not. Every story’s beauty lies in its writing.

She critizises social issues, unsaid rules about whom to love ,whom not to.

Especially a strong voice, that mocks at this society,

The Kathakali men took off their make-up and went home to beat their wives. Even Kunti the soft one with breasts.

The book is really different, it is a masterpiece, several incidents woven together into a veil through which story is explained from Rahel’s point of view.


The story is about a mother(Ammu) and her two egged twins Rahel and Esthappen Kuttapen Peter Mon who were abandoned by their alcoholic father from Calcutta .They returned to their granny Mamachi( Ammu’s mother) in Ayemanam in Kottayam, to Paradise jams and pickles. Their mother breaks the unwritten codes of love by having an affair with Velutha(a lower caste wonderful person). This leads to ruining of the mother’s as well as her kids life by their own granny and baby Kochamma. It also leads to dire consequences like the death of Velutha and Sofie mol. The story discusses about river ,plants, shrubs ,communism and above all real human characters and indeed about god of small things.

Too much of reality is really heart wrenching or perhaps a pure headache.

The book do have quite a few fall-backs. It is surely not a gripping book. You don’t feel drawn to this book. There isn’t a pull, no what next question. I guessed the story, well no much guessing, the whole story is depicted in first few pages, questioning our reason why to read forward leaving us adhere to our only reason just because it is a book and I love to read.Here, I don’t whine my money is lost nor can I reread it again.





Mom,Where is my lunch??????

Mom I am late…..

mom have you seen my English text….????

.mom my lab coat…..

.mom…..dont you know I hate carrots why do you prepare this disgusting lunch?????I dont want this food….

…mom,can you please get money from daddy…..???

mom why are you always complaining about me.?????…I am grown up I know what to do….

mom my uniform???

mom my file……..

mom why dont you care for me…????..all my friends have better moms(this is the most cruel word)

mom…..I feel sick….

mom I am sad….

mom….I need you …

mom…I need to speak to you…mom I cant bear…

mom…help me…..

mom my head is aching ….mom my throat is sore…..

mom be with me…..


every time, you have been there for me without expecting a merest thanks…..or perhaps anything in return… I made you cry but I wont ask sorry….for you forgive me,,,,,cause you are my mommy…

you  always had solutions for all my problems… have did everything for me,but all I did is complain….you made me what I am …my mom ,my treasure my best friend …..when I have a problem I run into your hands,I feel safe in your embrace….with you I feel carefree safe happy…..

you taught me to speak ,to live, to walk ,to taught me what is right what is wrong…even now I know I am a toddler to you…

the word I spell everyday like a hymn a thousand time in my life my first word and surely will be my last word…..its you mom….mom you are the best

now in this mothers day I wanna tell you only one thing….from the depth of my heart is

MOM….. I love you…..


happy mothers day to all the lovely mothers and kids who love their mothers

_anagha.m(an other kid who loves her mom dearly)