With the coming of The God Of Small Things, the Indo-Anglian novel is playful, it plays tricks, it reads the way we speak and overthrows the idea that Indian authors must only write about profound Indian truths, or that authors must be of vast learning to tackle complex national dilemmas. Salman Rushdie and Mukul Kesavan used history as raw material for magic realism, Upamanyu Chatterjee essayed the identity crisis of English, August and Amit Chaudhuri gave Bengal a strange and sublime address. But The God Of Small Things, says an Indian critic, "is playful, not profound, it's not a learned book, yet a terrific book of memory." Now the tongue that Rushdie unleashed is not only legitimate and perhaps soon a part of college curricula, but also shorn of the gravitas of "nationhood". Translated into 27 languages, Roy's nationality appears irrelevant.