haunches–hunched punctuation marks in a pool of wood shavings–and wonder how
he always seemed to know what smooth shapes waited inside the wood for him. They
loved the way woodin Velutha’s handsseemed to soften and become as pliable as
Plasticine. He was teaching them to use a planer. His house (on a good day) smelled
of fresh wood shavings and the sun. Of red fish curry cooked with black tamarind.
The best fish curryaccording to Esthain the whole world. It was Velutha who made
Rahel her luckiest-ever fishing rod and taught her and Estha to fish. And on that sky-
blue December dayit was him that she saw through her red sunglassesmarching
with a red flag at the level crossing outside Cochin. Steelshrill police whistles pierced
holes in the Noise Umbrella. Through the jagged umbrella holes Rahel could see
pieces of red sky. And in. the red skyhot red kites wheeledlooking for rats. In their
hooded yellow eyes there was a road and redflags marching. And a white shirt over a
black back with a birthmark. Marching. Terrorsweatand talcum powder had blend-
ed into a mauve paste between Baby Kochamma’s rings of neckfat. Spit coagulated
into little white gobs at the corners of her mouth. She imaginyilai：
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