400 Days by Chetan Bhagat EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Chetan Bhagat
- Genre: Kidnapping Crime Fiction, Friendship Fiction, Kidnapping Thrillers
- Publish Date: 8 October 2021
- Size: 2.6 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
‘I hate this stupid UPSC exam,’ I said, tossing my pen onto the table. I read
the exam question from a previous year’s General Studies paper again.
Locate the following places on a map of India and write about their
significance:
a) Karakoram Range
b) Gadchiroli
c) Tawang
d) Malkangiri
e) Jaitapur
While I couldn’t locate any of the places on the map of India, I could
definitely locate a niggling feeling in my stomach. It told me my IPS
preparations were crap. I only had two attempts left before I reached the
upper age limit of thirty-two years for the exam. My dream of becoming an
IPS officer was going to be flushed down the Karakoram Range and get lost
somewhere between Malkan-giri and Jaitapur, wherever the hell those places
were.
‘Tea’s ready,’ my mother called out from the living room. I ignored her.
I wanted to be an IPS officer instead of running a tiny detective agency
like I was doing at present. As a senior cop, I could solve a lot more crimes
and help society. Noble, right? The problem is, the tough UPSC exam for
civil services doesn’t give a damn about nobility. Over a million people
apply. Among those, a general category student like me has to achieve a top500 rank if they want an IPS seat.
‘This is insane,’ I said, shoving away my textbook.
‘Keshav, tea. Come now.’ My father’s explosive voice made me stand up
in reflex. There’s something about Indian fathers. When they call you, it’s
always urgent.
‘I called you earlier,’ my mother said, pouring me a cup of tea.
‘Sorry,’ I said, pulling up a chair.
I leaned forward to pick up a Parle-G biscuit from the plate on the dining
table.
‘How is the preparation going?’ Papa said.
‘Good,’ I said, taking the biscuit to my mouth in slow motion.
‘Good is not enough,’ he said. ‘It is a tough exam. Work harder.’
Wow, thanks for the deep insight, I wanted to say, but didn’t. The rule of
staying peacefully with parents is to keep the sarcasm minimal.
I only nodded.
‘Say something,’ Papa said.
‘Leave him alone, Rajpurohitji. He’s doing his best,’ Ma said. She refilled
my father’s cup and stirred a spoonful of sugar into it. She handed it to him
and my father grunted in response, his usual way of saying thanks to my
mother.
‘Is he?’ Papa said.
‘He is twenty-nine,’ she said. ‘He can decide his own career. If we must
interfere, we should help him get married.’
No, thanks, I wanted to blurt out, but didn’t. When Papa retired, my
parents had moved to Gurugram to live with me. Maybe my life is a total
mess, I thought, and fixing it is their life’s biggest passion. My father wasn’t
happy with my career. My mother wasn’t happy with my marital status. I had
managed to disappoint both of them in different ways at the same time.
‘Who will marry him?’ my father said. ‘No job. Sitting around the house
all day. Doing his silly detective business while pretending to prepare for the
toughest exam … ‘
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