I have been searching for ‘2 States: The story of my marriage’ by Chetan Bhagat for past two months. A friend of mine recommended it, telling me the base line of the story: A north Indian boy and a South Indian girl fell in love and want to get married AND they want their parents to be okay about it! Out of many personal reasons I was interested in reading the book, one was: I have lived in both the areas mentioned in the book and am very familiar with both the cultures and associated stereotypes, even though I don’t belong to either of the culture.
The storyline was a simple one so I didn’t expect much from it: Girl meets boy, fall in love and want to get married. Their families don’t accept due to the cultural differences between them. And as you know, good children don’t abandon their parents but work with them and show them the light of reason. Something I like to call “DDLJ-effect”. True, “Ek Duje ke Liye” had a similar story line but the tragic ending of the movie made it hard to convince anyone that it was the right approach (On the side note: what’s up with Kamal hasan and tragedies). DDLJ, on the other hand, with it’s “Ja, Simran ja, jeele apni zindagi ”, had a better impact. Hence, the name “DDLJ-effect”. But I digress.
Anyway, like any Bollywood movie, the book had a happy ending as well. Honestly, if you think about the storyline of the book, it was pretty much predictable. However, the treatment of the subject by Chetan Bhagat was simply superb. The stereotyping, the descriptions of different places and the subtle differences between the cultures were very acutely and very hilariously pin-pointed by him and that’s what made the book a great read. For example, the treatment of buffet by the two families:
Few things bring out the differences between Punjabis and Tamilians than buffet meals. Tamilians see it like any other meal. They will load up white rice first, followed by daal and curds and anything that has little dots of mustard, coconut or curry leaves.
For Punjabis, food triggers an emotional response, like say music. And the array of dishes available in a buffet is akin to Philharmonic orchestra. The idea is you load as many calories as possible onto one plate, as most party caterers charged based on the number of plates used. Also, like my mother explained since childhood, never take a dish that is easily prepared at home or whose ingredients are cheap. So, no yellow daal, boring gobi aloo or green salad. The focus is on chicken, dishes with dry fruits in them and exotic desserts.
As I said, I have been to both the cities mentioned in the book: Delhi and Chennai. I have visited Delhi more often than I would like to admit and I lived in Chennai for 2-1/2 years. I especially loved the way Chetan Bhagat describes the experience of a North Indian landing in Chennai for the first time as well as the second time. I recognized all the neighborhoods mentioned in the book. I remember, just like Krish, how difficult it was for me to pronounce the names like Nungambakkam and Kodambakkam and how easy I find them now. The sense of awe you experience when you enter the Ratna Store, which Chetan Bhagat aptly describes as:
We had come to Ratna stores in T. Nagar to buy steel plates for my chummery. I needed four, this place had four million of them. Seriously, every wall, roof, corner, shelf and rack over two floors was covered with shiny steel utensils.
Honestly, you can’t describe Ratna store in a better way.
And honestly, what’s up with every Chennaite reminding you that Marina beach is the second largest beach in the world. Seriously, my friends from Chennai will state that fact the moment you mention ‘Marina Beach’. Ananya mentioned it more than twice in the book. And then she tells Krish to meet her at Marina Beach without mentioning where in Marina Beach! That was my first reaction when I read those lines: how will he ever find her on the Marina Beach? It’s like trying to search for a needle in the haystack. Seriously. I kid you not. I guess, I have invariantly become a Chennaite myself.
The second stereotyping: the Punjabi was also so apt, for instance:
I had brought a gift pack of biscuits, as my Punjabi sensibilities had taught me to never go to someone’s house without at least as many as calories as you would consume there.
And the reaction of Krish’s mom and her family to Ananya reminded me of an incident from my university days. One of my Punjabi school/college friend had gone through exactly the same thing when she decided to marry a South Indian: a mallu in this case. I remember visiting her home during one of those stressful days of her life. Her mom gave a scathing looked at me when she realized how dark I am and asked me, very rudely, if I was a South Indian. When I replied in negative, giving her exact details of my parents villages, she further enquired that how, then, am I so dark? North Indians are fair, you know. She also hinted on some kind of black magic used by South Indians during her talks so much like the book. I could completely relate to each and everything in the book.
I also understand Krish’s exasperation on being only non-Tamil speaker among all the Tamils:
Tamilians love to irritate non-Tamil speakers by speaking only in Tamil in front of them. This is the only silent rebellion in their otherwise repressed, docile personality.
However, I think this stereotype extend to more than Tamils. I have been fortunate enough to befriend people from every corner of India and know that this is true beyond the stereotype of Tamils. At those times, I seriously wish I knew a third language in which I could converse with my friends, just so that I can inflict the same sense of abandonment and desolation to my third-language speaking friends. Why, in heavens name, don’t they realize that I am getting completely bored among their friends? And then they are surprised when I refuse their invitation next time. They couldn’t imagine any reason why I wouldn’t want to be in their company, they are, after all, so much fun to be with!
And then, there were other thoughts, which I think, can be applied to rest of India as well, just not South or North Indian as:
- Psycho relatives are constant across cultures.
- Indian men slam their wives for their sisters with zero hesitation.
- We never talk, at home, my mom and dad, they hardly talk. We’ll talk about the news, the food, the weather. But we never talk about our feelings.
- The only time grown-ups get excited about young people is when young people are getting married and the old people control the proceedings.
- It is amazing how people can feel insulted even after being welcomed by elephants.
- This is one of the huge downsides of getting married. A guy has to get involved in discussion about saris and gold.
- No matter how mad they are, army people still believe in courtesies. I am sure Indian and Pakistani officers wish each other before they blow each other’s brain off.
I especially love the last line. As a kid, I used to think about this, you know, the reason why Army people are required to be so courteous? It’s not like that it counts during the war. This is the first time someone actually articulated my thoughts exactly.
In all, I loved the book. I don’t remember laughing this much while reading a book, ever. Chetan Bhagat does have a great sense of humor and he definitely has a way with the words. I am looking forward to read rest of his work now..
P.S.: On after thought, I want to add that I don’t condone any of the racist comments in the book. I merely think that the behavior portrayed in the book are very near to the truth. Having said that, I also want to request that please don’t stereotype people around you based on the book. Individuals can differ immensely from the stereotype described in the book.
Remember we all are first and foremost humans so let’s please try not to be hurtful to each other…