I've rediscovered the Joy of Reading.

Started reading The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy yesterday.Till now, I'm not quite sure what the plot of the story is. But I have to admit the writing is beautiful. Beautifully fractured. I decided to stick post-its to mark out the chunks of text I like. And though I don't quite understand where this story is going, it doesn't bore me. It intrigues me, even. It's not the normal kind of novel I go for but youknowwhat? I think this is going to become one of my favourite books. I'll find out.

The blurb at the back doesn't give much clue what to expect.

"They all crossed into forbidden territory. They all tampered with the laws that
lay down who should be loved, and how. And how much."

That's all it took to make me buy the book. And of course, a book like that should be worth more than 6 bucks and I knew that too.

And now for some lovely chunks of text.

On the indifferent, despairing look in a girl's eyes:

"That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obsience. Then Small God,
(cosy, contained, private and limited)came away casually, laughing at his own
temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own consequence, he became resilient
and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. And the less it mattered, the less
it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened.

So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a
rich boy in small shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle
elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people's
eyes and became an exasperating expression."

Chacko, on explaining their history to the children:

"Our dreams have been doctored. We belong nowhere, We sail unanchored on
troubled seas. We may never be allowed ashore. Our sorrows will never be sad
enough. Our joys never happy enough. Our dreams never big enough. Our lives
never important enough. To matter."

Estha -

"a quiet bubble floating on a sea of noise"