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

bun. She clenched a pin in the middle of her teeth.

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    ‘They’d have a problem with anyone I choose. And you are South Indian, which
    doesn’t help at all. OK, it’s not as bad as marrying someone from another
    religion. But pretty close.
    ‘But I also aced my college. I have an MBA from IIMA and work for HLL. And
    sorry to brag, but I am kind of pretty.’
    ‘Irrelevant. You are Tamilian. I am Punjabi.’
    Ananya folded her offer letter and rearranged things in her bag.
    ‘What? Say something?’
    ‘Can’t be part of this backward conversation,’ she said. ‘Please, discuss your
    woes with the Punjabi brethren.’
    She stood up to leave. I tugged her down by her hand. ‘C’mon Ananya, aren’t
    your parents going to flip out when they find out you have a Punjabi boyfriend?’
    ‘No, I don’t think so.’
    ‘Have you told them?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Waiting for the appropriate time. The convocation is in two weeks. They’ll be
    here, I will introduce you. Tell them what you have done in life, not where your
    ancestors were born. They can meet your parents. They are coming, right?’
    ‘My mother, yes. Father, I don’t know.’
    ‘What’s the deal?’
    ‘Let’s not talk about it.’
    ‘You won’t tell your future wife? Have you invited him?’
    ‘No.’
    She stood up, I followed suit. ‘Let’s go to the STD booth,’ she said.
    ‘Now?’
    ‘This strong and silent warfare between you and your dad is becoming too
    much.’

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    ‘It’s peak hour rates.’
    ‘I don’t care.’
    We walked to the STD booth near Vijay Char Rasta. I called home. ‘Hi, mom, it
    is me.’
    ‘Krish, we should book tickets. I am coming, Shipra masi wants to come, Rajji
    mama and Kamla aunty, too.’
    ‘Mom, is dad coming?’
    ‘No,’ she said and fell silent.
    ‘It’s my convocation,’ I said.
    ‘He said he has work.’
    ‘He’s retired. What work?’ the meter rode up twenty rupees.
    ‘You talk to him, he expects a personal invitation,’ my mother said.
    ‘I won’t. Doesn’t he want to come by himself?’
    ‘No, why don’t you ask him to?’ She prepared to put me on hold.
    ‘Mom, no. I don’t want to call him if he doesn’t want to come.’
    ‘Fine. Can masi and mama come?’
    ‘Don’t get any relatives,’ I pleaded.
    ‘Why? They love you so much. They want to see you….’
    ‘I want you to meet someone, mom.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘You’ll find out,’ I said.
    I came out of the booth. Ananya and I walked back. Which father needs an
    invitation from his son to attend his convocation? Screw him, I said to myself.
    ‘You invited him?’ Ananya asked.
    ‘Dad’s not coming,’ I said.
    ‘Why?’

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    ‘We have no relationship, Ananya. Don’t try to fix it ever. OK?’
    ‘What happened though?’
    ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
    ‘Standard answer.’
    ‘Yours was a standard question.’
    ‘You do care for him. You are upset.’
    ‘I’m upset about paying peak hour rates. Now listen, I’ve fended off my aunts
    with great difficulty. It’s only my mom. You have a plan, right?’
    She skipped ahead of me. ‘Let’s make it a great first meeting of the families.
    We should do something fun together.’
    ‘Like shoot each other?’
    ‘Shut up. It’ll be fine. They’d love it that my boyfriend is from IIT.’
    ‘They won’t ask my grades, right?’
    ‘They might. But who cares, you will be in Citibank. Listen, we organize an
    outing for them?’
    ‘I am not so sure if our families would like to spend so much time together.’
    ‘Of course, they would. You leave it to me. Your mom will love me more than
    you after this,’ she said as we reached the campus gates.

    I received my mother at the Ahmedabad railway station a day before the
    convocation. Ananya’s parents flew down, her father using his LTC that allowed
    him to fly once every four years. My mother arrived with two suitcases. One had
    her