2 States: The Story of My Marriage Read online

  Fuck. My past sins would not let go of me. Maybe that is why the five banks had rejected me.

  ‘And this missed semester . . .’ he tapped my undergrad grade sheet.

  ‘Research semester, sir,’ I corrected.

  ‘I don’t know about that. Devesh?’

  Devesh, like anyone who works in HR, had never taken a real decision in his life. ‘It’s a business call, sir,’ he said.

  ‘I head my business,’ Rahul said.

  ‘Yes, but you may want to talk to the country manager,’ Devesh said, scared to make a suggestion.

  ‘I’m senior to him. I came from New York. He’s just connected so he became country manager. You know that, right?’

  ‘Sir, but grade-wise . . .’ Devesh paused and both of them looked at me.

  ‘Can you give us five minutes?’ Rahul asked.

  ‘Sure, I’ll wait outside,’ I obliged with an ingratiating grin.

  ‘Thanks, we’ll call you in again. So, don’t send the next candidate.’

  8

  I stepped out of the Citi interview room. I scanned the list of remaining companies on the notice board. Everyone else paid half of Citibank. I found an empty stool to sit on and closed my eyes to pray. God appeared in front of me.

  ‘Hello God,’ I said, ‘I’ve not said one true thing in that interview today. But I want the job, please.’

  ‘They don’t want to hear the truth. So, that’s OK,’ God said. ‘But that’s not what you should be worried about.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘You have lived with a girl for two years.’

  ‘I love her, God,’ I said.

  ‘Love is not enough. You know what you have to do.’

  ‘I will, I just need time.’

  ‘You are well past your time. In four minutes, I could let your last bank job slip away,’ God said.

  ‘No God, I want Citibank.’

  ‘I want you to do the right thing first.’

  ‘How?’ I opened my eyes. I looked at the HLL room. Ananya had gone inside the room. I closed my eyes again. ‘How?’ I repeated. ‘She is in an interview. I promise to do it after I get my Citibank job.’

  ‘I don’t trust you. Anyway, upto you. You don’t listen to me, I don’t listen to you,’ God said.

  I opened my eyes. I had three minutes. Ananya would kill me if I went inside that room. But a voice inside told me that if I didn’t go to her, the Citi country manager or Rahul or Devesh could decide against me. Of course, my rational mind knew I was being completely moronic. Both the events were not connected. But there is only so much our rational mind knows. Maybe, events and karma are connected. I ran to the HLL room.

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

  ‘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 panellist 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 when we go to office, of course. Will you marry me?’

  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 tigthened her lips to hide a laugh. ‘Yes, you idiot. I will be with you. Just not right now. So, go!’

  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,’ I said, ‘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 bun. She clenched a pin in the middle of her teeth.

  ‘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?’

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