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When I was neither man nor boy, my father consented to my accompanying my cousin on a voyage to the island of Ceylon. The only circumstance which happened on our voyage worth relating was the wonderful effects of a storm, which had torn up by the roots a great number of trees of enormous bulk and height, in an island where we lay at anchor to take in wood and water;
Truth has been dethroned. It has become chance. When we become sick to death witnessing polical campaigns that sell themselves agressively to the masses while mobilizing intellectuals considered respected and honest, but still speak full of passion and ignore slander and fake news then 'truth' seems to be tucked away somewhere. If we are lucky, we can find it.
But it is not all bad. Because from there we also witness human narrow mindedness and limitation in relating to truth precisely when truth is no longer on its high throne.
Communism is Velutha. In Arundhati Roy's novel The God of Small Things, Velutha is a carpenter in a pickle factory in the town of Ayemenem in Kerala. He is an Untouchable. In the novel, he first appears fleetingly in the midst of a communist demonstration, waving a red flag. Then he disappears.
His life is one of tragic destiny and conviction: he loves Ammu, a high caste woman who he has known since childhood and who is now divorced with two children. Their relationship is scandalous. When opportunity arises, Velutha is falsely accused of having raped and murdered a woman who actually drowned. He is imprisoned; he never returns.
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