Its just a bollywood love story where the weird families don't let their kids marry till just before the end. Now add: IIMA, citibank, spiritual guruji, sex talks, jokes on tamils, family drama and some more sex talk. That's pretty much all this book has.
It still manages to be un-put-downable and is the best Chetan Bhagat book after the legend called 5.some1.
Should you buy it? Answer: sure, at Rs.95 it would be the best use of a 100 Rs note, second only to a box of condoms.
Some glimpses from the book:
(I hope it doesn't account to copyright infringements, even if it does, who gives a fuck?)
Why would any guy want to be friends only with a girl? It's like agreeing to be near a chocolate cake and never eating it. It's like sitting in a racing car but not driving it. Only wimps do that.
'Was she prettier than me?'
'You are better looking' I said. The girl who asks this question is the better one, always.
Today, we had to collect our post-graduate diploma in management, a ticket to a lifetime of overpaid jobs.<lots of pages later> Corporate types love to pretend their life is exciting. The whispers, fist-pumping and animated hand gestures are all designed to lift our job description from what it really is - that of an overpaid clerk.
Pammi ji did the unthinkable. She slid a hand into her bosom ATM and pulled out a wad of notes. I wondered if Pammi aunty's cleavage also contained credit cards.
'...this guy is insisting I kiss him, but I don't want to get pregnant.'
...a sardar jee in Chennai was akin to spotting a polar bear in Delhi.
The tamil sense of humor, if there is any, is really an acquired taste. <some pages later>I would like to see what a tamil joke book looks like.<some more pages later> Tamilians love to irritate non-Tamil speakers by speaking only Tamil in front of them<many more pages later> MIT is calling him, requesting him to do Ph.D. at their college. All the ladies in the room had a mini orgasm.<many many more pages later>Tamilians can tell good singers from bad, like Punjabis can judge butter chicken in a jiffy.
It's official, life after college sucks.
'Where is Ananya?' Uncle looked up in shock as if I had asked him where he kept his porn collection.
Chicken, beer and sex- three things men live for.<slightly condensed>
At customer service, you need to smile more than a toothpaste model.
'How quickly our children grow up', one aunt said, ignoring the small fact that along with the children, she'd grown into an old woman, too.
'You ate?' My mother asked me the most important question.
Ananya went with the girls. Her years of Bharatnatyan training made her best performer in the floor. She picked up the Punjabi steps fast and even taught my cousins a few improvised moves. She looked beautiful in her dark green Kanjeevaram. Like an idiot, I fell in love with her all over again.
The regular (chat) counter served samosas and tikkis, while the health counter had sprouts-stuffed golgappas. My aunts tool both, one for taste and another for health.
I guess there are no normal families in the world. Everyone is a psycho, and the average of all psychos is what we call normal.
'Are you OK?', 'You are not a girl, you will not understand' Ananya said, and thus began a lifetime of 'you won't understand' statements married men have to endure everyday'
Rating: 5/10 for some occasional laughs and it's ability to make me read through the dinner and an India-Australia match.
