2 States The Story Of My Marriage by Chetan Bhagat Read Free Book Online Page A

me,’ the volunteer on the door said, blocking me.

    DX @ www.desibbrg.com

    ‘I need to go inside,’ I said, ‘urgent.’
    ‘There’s an inter….’
    I forced my way inside. HLL was conducting its final interviews in one of the
    classrooms. The company staff sat in the front row of the class while the
    candidate sat in the prof’s chair.
    Ananya faced a panel of five elderly people in the room. She was moving her
    hands in an animated manner as she spoke. ‘The rural market doesn’t need
    different products. They need affordability….’ She stopped mid-sentence upon
    noticing me. Her eyebrows elevated in shock and stayed there.
    ‘Yes?’ a sixtyish-year-old gentleman turned to me.
    Ananya’s face turned pink, then red. The colour coordination came from
    embarrassment and anger, respectively.
    ‘I need to talk to her,’ I said slowly, scanning everyone in the room.
    ‘Can’t it wait?’ the old gentleman asked. ‘She is having her final interview. All our senior management is here.’
    ‘Actually, it can’t,’ I said.
    ‘Everything OK?’ another panelist said.
    ‘Yes, I only need a minute,’ I said and signalled to Ananya to come out.
    ‘What? Just tell me here,’ she said, throwing me a dirty look.
    I saw the panel’s confused expression. I went up to Ananya.
    ‘What?’ she whispered,’ Are you mad?’
    I knelt down next to her, my mouth close to her ear. ‘Sorry, how is it going?’ I whispered.
    ‘Krish Malhotra, this better be important. What’s up?’ she whispered, loud
    enough for the panel to hear.
    ‘Ananya Swaminathan, I, Krish Malhotra, am deeply in love with you and want
    to be with you always. Apart from where we go to office, of course. Will you marry
    me?’

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    Ananya’s mouth fell open. She alternated her glance between the panel and
    me. “Krish,’ she said. She tried hard but a tear slipped out of her carefully eye-
    lined eyes.
    ‘Everything OK?’ one panel member asked as he noticed Ananya’s
    restlessness. ‘It’s not bad news, I hope.’
    Ananya shook her head as she took a sip from the glass of water in front of
    her. ‘No, it’s not bad news at all. It’s good.’
    ‘Ananya,’ I whispered again. My knees hurt as they rubbed against the rough
    classroom floor.
    ‘What now?’
    ‘Is that a yes? Will you be with me, always?’ I asked.
    She tightened her lips to hide a laugh. ‘Yes, you idiot. I will be with you. Just not right now. So, go!’

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    9

    ‘Wow, this feels special,’ Ananya said.
    She opened her HLL offer letter for the third time at Rambhai’s. I had collected mine from Citibank the day before and, after confirming the salary, had dumped it
    in my cupboard.
    ‘It’s an invitation to be a slave, don’t get so excited,’ I said as I ordered a samosa sandwich.
    ‘Aw, don’t be morbid. They are thrilled about hiring me. HLL has a serious
    South India strategy.’
    Rambhai’s minions served us tea. During placement time, tips peaked for
    them.
    ‘Do you go to school?’ Ananya asked the thirteen-year-old boy who served us.
    ‘Yes, Rambhai sends me,’ the boy said.
    ‘Good, because if he doesn’t, report him to the police,’ Ananya said and gave
    the boy a fifty rupee note.
    ‘They will post you in South India,’ is aid, ‘in one of those unpronounceable
    places without an STD code.’
    ‘No, they won’t. And if they do, my husband will come and rescue me.’ She
    winked.
    ‘Ananya, you don’t get it. We have decided to get married. Our parents haven’t
    approved – yet,’ I reminded her.
    ‘C’mon, mine are a bit conservative. But we are their overachieving children,
    the ultimate middle-class fantasy kids. Why would they have an issue?’
    ‘Because they are parents. From biscuits to brides, if there is anything their
    children really want, parents have a problem,’ I said.
    ‘Your parents will have a problem with me?’ Ananya pulled her hair back to tie
    it in a loose