The first image that comes to my mind about loss and death in "Games at Twilight" is the image of the dog sprawled out on the ground. The day is hot. Really hot. Not even the dog wants to move a muscle when the kids come pouring out of the house. I've had dogs all of my life, and even when they were old, the dogs would still perk up when my own kids or...
The first image that comes to my mind about loss and death in "Games at Twilight" is the image of the dog sprawled out on the ground. The day is hot. Really hot. Not even the dog wants to move a muscle when the kids come pouring out of the house. I've had dogs all of my life, and even when they were old, the dogs would still perk up when my own kids or my nieces and nephews would come over. The dog image created by Desai in this story screams of death and defeat.
The outdoor dog lay stretched as if dead on the veranda mat, his paws and ears and tail all reaching out like dying travelers in search of water. He rolled his eyes at the children—two white marbles rolling in the purple sockets, begging for sympathy—and attempted to lift his tail in a wag but could not. It only twitched and lay still.
The other reason that the above passage sells the image of death so easily is because it flat out says "dead" and "dying."
Another image for defeat and loss within the story is the image of the shed that Ravi hides in. Desai describes it with words like "leaking," "ruined," "broken," "sagged," "rusty," and "depressing mortuary." Those words do not help to instill confidence in the reader. Each word seems to further suggest that hiding in the shed will not end well. And even though Ravi is able to avoid being found by Raghu, the story still ends with Ravi being completed defeated.
He lay down full length on the damp grass, crushing his face into it, no longer crying, silenced by a terrible sense of his insignificance.
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