Not typical of someone who runs a school in the back of beyond.’ ‘Oh, that’s.’ I paused, searching for the right word. I live in Dumraon, eighty kilometres from here.’ Can I order some food first?’ I picked up the phone in the room and ordered two club sandwiches from the limited midnight menu. ‘Why are they in such a terrible shape?’ I said after a pause. I took a few deep breaths and wondered what to say next. ‘Did you just say the girl who wrote these journals is dead?’ You cannot pick up a chocolate when someone has just mentioned a death. ‘Why not?’ I said, reaching for a chocolate. ‘You can’t read? As in, you can’t read in general? Or you can’t read these?’ ‘I want you to read these journals, whatever is readable.because I can’t.’ He took a piece of dark chocolate when I offered it. A bowl of fruit and some chocolates sat next to my bed. ‘Listen, have you eaten anything all day?’ I said. He reassembled the notebooks, gentle with his fingers, almost caressing the pages. He wore a shirt two sizes too big for his lean frame. Black hair, black eyes and a particularly intense gaze. Over six feet, he had a sunburnt, outdoor ruggedness about him. ‘It’s not?’ I said, lightly touching a crumbling page. However, do not send it in this state,’ I said. ‘If this is a manuscript, please submit it to a publisher. Many pages had holes in them, rats having snacked on them. The pages had handwritten text, mostly illegible, as the ink had smudged. The yellowing pages fanned out between us.
The spine of the books came apart as he plonked them on the table. And now here we were in my room as he pulled out three tattered notebooks from his backpack. ‘Just give me five minutes, sir,’ he had said, following me into the lift. Then he had waited for me all day I had returned late at night to find him sitting in the hotel lobby. This morning, he had tried to stop me on my way out. We were in my room at the Chanakya Hotel, Patna.
Being a writer on a book tour doesn’t allow for much sleep-I had not slept more than four hours a night for a week. ‘Listen, I don’t have the time or patience for this,’ I said, getting irritated. ‘They are your journals, you read them,’ I said to him. PPS: Let us know if it's another script for next Bollywood Italiya PS: If anyone of you reads it soon, please do share a review. Just curious to know how many of you are curious, excited, anxious to read the new Chetan Bhagat novel. They come up with an idea, which is their compromise, where she agrees to become his "half-girlfriend". Madhav wants Riya to be his girlfriend but Riya disagrees.
Riya speaks English all the time and Madhav has a hard time forming sentence in the language. It's a love story.įrom what I read on Flipkart, it says the story is about a bihari guy named Madhav who falls with a rich girl from Delhi named Riya. Today morning I heard of his new book that got released today. Everything from his famous novels to the columns he write for TOI, there's a (mind you) huge percentage of young reader base in India, who follows Chetan Bhagat, his tweets and his book religiously. The name Chetan Bhagat now resounds with the entire young generation of the country.
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