Chetan Bhagat's "2 States:The Story of My Marriage". Pages·· This ebook is distributed at chortsofalecdurl.gq You are . Page 2. DX @ chortsofalecdurl.gq This eBook is exclusively made by DX @ chortsofalecdurl.gq 2 States. THE STORY OF MY MARRIAGE. Free download of 2 States by Bhagat. We DO NOT spam and do not allow others access to your private information. They get married. the story reminds me my marriage, another 2state marriage, that I wanted to but could not converted.
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Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Chetan Bhagat is the author of seven blockbuster books. These include six novels—Five Point Someone (), One Night. 2 States - The Story of My Marriage is the novel written by Chetan Bhagat. It is an love story about a couple coming from two different states of. 2 States is a story about Krish and Ananya. They are from two different states of India, deeply in love and want to get married. Of course, their parents don't agree .
It is narrated from a first person point of view in a humorous tone, often taking digs at both Tamil and Punjabi cultures. The story begins in the IIM Ahmedabad mess hall where Krish, a Punjabi boy from Delhi sights a beautiful girl Ananya, a Tamilian from Chennai quarreling with the mess staff about the food.
Ananya was tagged as the "Best girl of the fresher batch". They become friends within a few days.
Both graduate and get jobs with serious plans for their wedding. At first, Krish tries to convince his girlfriend Ananya's parents by helping Ananya's father Swaminathan create his first PowerPoint presentation and by giving her brother Manju IIT tuition.
He later convinces her mom by helping her fulfill her biggest dream of singing at a concert by arranging for her to perform at the concert organised by Krish's employer CitiBank. With Ananya's parents convinced, the couple then has to convince Krish's mom. But they run into problems as Krish's mother's relatives don't quite like the relationship and do not want Krish to get married to a Tamilian. They are won over after Ananya successfully intervenes to help one of Krish's cousins get married.
I had spent eighteen bucks. She looked at me and smiled. What's their name? I just thought you could have a friend who likes the same food. Its OK. We are very modern. Don't you know? I'll catch you later. I have a test tomorrow. Pray before the exam, OK? Your dad picked, right? I stopped in my tracks. I do it with mom when I'm angry with her.
We don't hang up; we just stay on the line and keep silent. Pretty expensive way to let each other know we are upset. Only sometimes though. Not for tonight. I'd like to keep it to myself. We walked for a moment in silence before she spoke again. Which job are you going to take? Like really? I couldn't lie. I expected her to flip out and laugh. But she didn't. She nodded and continued to walk. The pen's mightier than the sword, one of the first proverbs we learnt, isn't it? What do you want to be?
My mother already feels I'm too ambitious and independent. So I am trying not to think too far.
As of now, I just want to do www. Both are incredibly difficult though,' she said. We reached her room and practised numerical for the next two hours. I'd never be able to crack these,' she said after I solved a tricky one for her. So I can help you with the quant subjects. Whatever that is, you are not. We are friends, right?
I looked into her eyes. No, those eyes couldn't use anyone. It is really cool. I mean it,' she said. I smiled. A few sleepless girls wandered in the dorm with their notes. They gave me suspicious looks. I don't know why I felt the need to give an explanation. She walked past the queued up students toward me.
By this time, everyone on campus knew of her friendship, or as someone would say, siblingship, with me. She wore denim shorts and a pink T-shirt, drawing extra long glances from the boys from engineering colleges. We walked back towards our dorms. I am a university gold medalist in the subject.
Your numerical saved me. Are you hungry? People who live in hostels are always hungry. Is it a Delhi thing or a Punjabi thing? Controlling what women wear? It is outside campus. People stare,' I said. I'm fine, let's go,' she said and walked towards the campus gates.
It's fine,' I said, turning in the opposite direction towards my dorm. You are not coming? I shook my head. Wear whatever. What do I care? We didn't talk about the afternoon episode when I came to her room in the evening. She had changed into black track pants and an oversized full-sleeve black T-shirt. She was covered up enough to go for a walk in Afghanistan. I kind of missed her shorts, but I had brought it upon myself.
I opened the marketing case that we had to prepare for the next day. I feel like a real smoke,' she said. I gave her a dirty look. Am I not allowed to use the F words? Or is it that I expressed a desire to smoke? I want you to consider the possibility that women are intelligent human beings. And intelligent people don't like to be told what to wear or do, especially when they are adults. Does that make any sense to you? I wear shorts because I like to wear shorts. We kept quiet for half an hour and immersed ourselves in our books.
Let's study. I threw the pillow at her. She laughed and slammed it on my head. I realised this was the first contact sport I had played with her apart from shaking hands. Even though I pretended to be fine with the 'just friends' thing, it was killing me. Every time I looked up from my books, I saw her face. Every time I saw her, I wanted to grab her face and kiss her. The only way I could focus was by imagining that Prof Chatterjee was in our room.
Even outside the study sessions, it wasn't easy. Every time I saw a guy talk to her or laugh with her, a hot flush started from my stomach and reached my face. Sometimes, she would tell me how funny some guy in section A was or how cute some guy in section B was and I wanted to go with a machine gun and shoot the respective guys in sections A and B.
They should go full on with the advertising campaign, right? I had been staring at her lips, researching ways of kissing her. Yes, I agree with you,' I said. What are you thinking of right now? I think I will be good at a marketing job.
So I will go with this recommendation tomorrow. I stood up to leave. I can't fall asleep then,' I said. I will make it in the pantry upstairs. What do you keep thinking about? We don't need to study together anymore. What's up? Did I do anything wrong? It's me,' I said. Her loud voice woke up a girl in the next room who switched on her light. Stop behaving like we are having a break-up,' I whispered. There's a quiz tomorrow. She came up to me twice, once to return my pen that I had left in her room and another time during the mid-morning break to ask me if I wanted to go for tea.
Once you start liking someone, their mere presence evokes a warm feeling in you. I fought the feeling before it took control of me. You go have tea,' I said. She didn't insist as she left the room.
She had worn a long maroon skirt and a light brown top. I wish she'd turn back and look at me. But she didn't, she joined her dorm-mates and went out for tea. I dodged her for the next five days. I came late to class and left first so there was no time for greetings. Even Kanyashree paused from her frantic note- taking and turned her profile ten-degrees towards me.
I had just sat down to study after dinner. Girls rarely visited boys' dorms. She had come to my room only once before. It had excited my dorm-mates into an impromptu Frisbee match set to loud music in the dorm corridor. Even I couldn't resist a smile. He went on to play a song from Maine Pyar Kiyathat urged a pigeon to play postman. We are never studying at your dorm again,' she had fumed as she packed her books.
She opened the door to eight boys playing Frisbee in the corridor. But here she was again. And the firmness in her step meant my dorm-mates didn't act like Neanderthals and had disappeared into their rooms. I opened the door. She stood there, wearing the blue and white salwar kameez that she wore the first time I saw her. When you are in campus, you can figure out a pattern in people's clothes. Her blue salwar kameez repeated itself every three weeks. She had brought two Frootis with her.
Can I distract the scholar for ten minutes from his studies? I had left the red bricks bare, and they looked like prison walls. My originally white bed-sheet had turned grey after being washed in acid in the NT hostels. My desk only had books, unlike Ananya's who always had cut flowers from campus lawns or arty incense holders or other objects that men never put on their shopping lists.
I turned around to do a quick scan. No, there was no underwear or smelly socks or porn magazines or old razor blades in sight. I held the door open. Like you don't even acknowledge me in class. I had missed her so much I wanted to lock my room and never let her go.
I'm sure some guys can be friends with girls. I can't. Not with you. Thanks for the Frooti,' I said. I took a long, gurgling sip to finish the drink. I slammed the tetrapack on the table like a retro Hindi film hero who takes the last sip of his VAT Yes, leave me alone as I drown my suffering in mango juice, I thought. We had a deal. We exchanged glances, silent for a minute. I am not Mr. I stared back, to show I was unfazed. You asked me what I want.
It's different. I nodded. To sit and study with you is an exercise in double self-control. First I have to force myself to pay attention to these boring cases. Second, I have to avoid looking at your face as much as possible because when I look at your face, all I want to do is kiss you.
But we have this stupid just-friends deal and you are all cool about it and so that leaves me whipping my mind to study nicotine-free cigarettes and not think about your lips and the little mole that is there below the lower one. It's tiny.
But hey, I am just a friend. I don't get the mole. I only get the full stops. You girls don't know what it is like to be a guy. Yours I mean,' she said. I froze. Ms Swaminathan didn't as she came close to me.
In a second, her Frooti-laced lips were on mine. We kissed for three seconds. I was too dumbstruck to move. This boy only likes to study,; she said and walked out of my dorm.
I didn't move an inch for five minutes. The remaining three minutes were spent realizing that the hottest girl in the campus had kissed me. I didn't know what I'd done right. But I didn't care. Maybe she had missed me too. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal for her. Maybe I was just imagining this and this hadn't really happened.
Maybe I should stop dreaming like an idiot and run to her room. Maybe I shouldn't, as I had no idea what to do when I meet her. Maybe I should let a night pass and talk to her in class tomorrow. I changed the topic. She had brought the topic back now. Now, just back to what you said about the normal curve,' she said. By more you mean no more kisses or no more than kissing? We are in the middle of a class. Please tell me. We have to study all these normal curve problems tonight.
You put a boy and girl in a room for a week and lots of boring books, and sparks are sure to fly. They freak me out,' I said, scanning her family members. I kept quiet. You, of all people, are asking me if I am gay. I had a girlfriend. It's over. It ended when I left college, two years ago. Who was she? A student?
We have a stud here. Prettier than me? Why do women size each other up in looks so much? The girl who asks the question is the better looking one, always. What, he bought you out? Gave you a blank cheque like in films?
Because of which I am here. But the implicit deal was, don't push it. Don't dream of being family. There was no future, so it died.
Somehow, it never really gets over with an ex. You merely learn to push their thoughts aside. Unless someone prods your brain again to think of them. She found a geeky guy of the same community. Engaged in six months, married in a year. Rest I don't know. Now, even though we were naked a few moments ago, I do think I can make a case for invasion of privacy. In case you are still involved with her. It took me a long time to get over her, but I am not involved anymore.
And I feel sick I didn't have the courage to fight her father. And no more talk about her please,' I said. My ex-girlfriend and my father were off-limit topics. Is she South Indian? I wondered if I had said the wrong thing.
I was being factual. We are just friends with benefits, right? Or what is it?
Fuck buddies? It is amazing how the vulnerability in a relationship shifts from the guy to the girl after you've had sex. Have tea. I twiddled with the handle for two minutes.
Despite the sexual possibilities, we still had to study. It is about a strike in a hotel,' I said as I opened my folder. She nodded without eye contact. I racked my brain hard on what I could say that could make her feel better. She carefully closed her case materials and looked up at me. She said, her eyes wet. Is that all you think about? So,' I paused. Don't you get it? Now you sound convincing. It is enfermedad de lafora pdf the story about a couple coming from two different states of.
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