Govind, a boy from Ahmedabad, dreams of owning a business. His friends, Ish and Omi, dream of cricket. To accommodate all their passions, the three. Free download of Three Mistakes of My Life by Chetan Bhagat. Available in PDF, ePub and Kindle. Read, write reviews and more. Three Mistakes of My Life by Chetan Bhagat. Pages · books chetan. Preview Download Chetan Bhagat's "2 States:The Story of My Marriage".
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Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Chetan Bhagat is the author of nine blockbuster books. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. To accommodate all their passions, the three entrepreneurs open a cricket . # in Hindi eBooks; # in General Humorous Fiction; # in. 3 Mistakes of My life is a very popular novel by Chetan Bhagat, who is one of the Download the eBook from below section and read this interesting novel. Download Free PDF of The Three Mistakes Of My Life - Chetan Bhagat Besides writing novels he also writes for leading English & Hindi Tags: author chetan bhagat download ebook ebooks english free pdf writer.
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The book is good when it incorporates real events which have taken place in India into the story but the fictitious parts of the story are less believable since the details are missing. Picked up his book to see what the fuss was about. Books are good, although Bhagat, like John Grisham, maybe writing books with the hope it would become a movie.
Almost like writing a screenplay for a movie. In that sense, it was entertaining, not a literary material, but still good. One person found this helpful.
I can't believe a book like this was allowed to be sold in the market, it's full of innumerable cliches, and painfully drab.
The story is really written very simply, as though meant for 5th grader kids, and it wasn't even intended to be that way, as evident from the many profanities in the book. Either case it's definitely not worth reading. Save yourself the trouble. A Novel. It's far more better than that one. The book combines all 3 subjects into an exciting story. See all 6 reviews. Amazon Giveaway allows you to run promotional giveaways in order to create buzz, reward your audience, and attract new followers and customers.
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Amazon Rapids Fun stories for kids on the go. Ten different instruments beeped and LED lights flickered at regular intervals. Cables from the instruments disappeared into the man I had travelled thousands of miles to see - Govind Patel. I noticed the curly hair first.
Download Free PDF of The Three Mistakes Of My Life - Chetan Bhagat
He had a wheatish complexion and bushy eyebrows. His thin lips had turned dry because of the medicines. How did I shook hands and sat down. His mother came into the room. She looked so sleep-deprived, she could use a sleeping pill herself. I greeted her as she went out to get tea. I looked at the boy again. I had two instant urges - one, to ask him what happened and two, to slap him.
Sorry, I should not have written that mail. You should not have done what you did. He took a hard look at me and then turned his gaze sideways. There is nothing heroic in this. Cowards pop pills. What happened to you? We fell silent as his mother returned with tea. A nurse came in and told his mother to go home, but she refused to budge. Finally, the doctor had to intervene. She left at I stayed in the room, promising the doctor I would leave soon. What can you do about it?
You can't change what happened,' he said tiredly. Sometimes, it is important to know what happened. To me, people only do things out of self-interest. What's in it for you? And why should I waste my time telling you anything?
There, that was my incentive. And why would anyone care? My story is not trendy or sexy like the IITs and call centres. The heater and our conversation kept the room warm. That does not seem right. I considered slapping him again. That means at a certain level you trusted me. I located you and flew out within hours of your mail. You still question if I care?
And now this cocky attitude, this arrogance is part of your business? Can't you talk to me like a friend? Do you even know what a friend is? We became quiet. The clock showed midnight. He sat there stunned. Everyone had behaved nicely with him today.
I stood up and turned away from him. T know what a friend is, ' he said at last. I sat down next to him. Because I had two, the best ones in the world. I had shifted up to a sofa from the floor. We were in Ishaan's house — Ishaan, Omi and I.
Ishaan's mom had brought in tea and khakra for us. That is why I moved. Fuck, now at this stage. Omi, don't you dare move now. Nobody moves for the next five overs. We were chasing to win. India's score a ball ago was after forty-five overs. Twenty-seven runs in five overs, with eight wickets to spare and Tendulkar on the crease. A cakewalk. The odds were still in India's favour, but Tendulkar was out.
And that explained the frowns on Ishaan's forehead. Ishaan glared at Omi, chiding him for his shallow sensory pleasure in a moment of national grief. Omi and I kept our tea cups aside and looked suitably mournful. The crowd clapped as Tendulkar made his exit. Jadeja came to the crease and added six more runs. Twenty-one more runs to win in four overs, with seven wickets in hand. Over 46 'He made The guy did his job.
Just a few final closing shots left. Why are you getting so worked up? I reached for my tea cup, but Ishaan signalled me to leave it alone. We were not going to indulge until the fate of the match was decided. Ishaan was pissed with us anyway. The match was in Vadodra, just two hours away from Ahmedabad. But we could not go - one, because we didn't have money, and two, because I had my correspondence exams in two days. Of course, I had wasted the whole day watching the match on TV instead, so reason number two did not really hold much weight.
That is one reason I like cricket, there is so much maths in it. Tendulkar goes, they panic. It isn't about the average.
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It is like the queen bee is dead, and the hive loses order,' Ishaan said. Omi nodded, as he normally does to whatever Ishaan has to say about cricket. Anyway, I hope you realise, we didn't meet today to see this match. We have to decide what Mr Ishaan is doing about his future, right? Ishaan had always avoided this topic ever since he ran away from NDA a year ago. His dad had already sarcastically commented, 'Cut a cake today to celebrate one year of your uselessness.
I needed to sit them down to talk about our lives. Of course, against cricket, life is second priority. I have an idea that works for all of us.
We don't have a lot of choice, do we? Me, too? Idiots like him love to be part of something, anything. However, this time we needed Omi. But later when Ish? Look, the match is starting. Ok, over dinner. Let's go to Gopi,' Ish said. Who's paying? Beep, beep, beep. The horn of a car broke our conversation. A car zoomed outside the pol. I am going to teach this bastard a lesson,' Ish said, looking out the window. Comes and circles around our house everyday' 'Why?
He used to be in coaching classes with her. She complained about him there too,' Ish said. Beep, beep, beep, the car came near the house again. Ish picked up his bat. We ran out the house. The silver Esteem circled the pol and came back for another round of serenading. Ish stood in front of the car and asked the boy to stop. The Esteem halted in front of Ish. Ish went to the driver, an adolescent.
He stepped outside and came to the front. Ish grabbed the boy's head from behind and smashed his face into the bonnet. He proceeded to strike the headlight with his bat. The glass broke and the bulb hung out. You like pressing horns? Ish grabbed his collar and gave six non-stop slaps across his face. Omi picked up the bat and smashed the windscreen.
The glass broke into a million pieces. People on the street gathered around as there is nothing quite as entertaining as a street fight. The boy shivered in pain and fear. What would he tell his daddy about his broken car and face? Ish's dad heard the commotion and came out of the house.
Ish held the boy in an elbow lock. The boy was struggling to breathe. Ish gripped him tighter. He kicked the boy's face with his knee and released him. The boy kneeled on the floor and sucked in air. The last kick from Ish had smeared the blood from his nose across his face. And what do you think you are doing? Ish turned away.
Seeing that no one cared about his apology, he trudged back to his car. Ish's dad turned to his neighbours. Ran away from the army of his own country and then wants to teach lessons to others! He and his loafer friends hanging around the house all day long. You want to curse me some more? We missed the final five overs of the match. Luckily, India won and Ish didn't get that upset. Yes, yes, yes,' Ishaan jumped.
Actually, Ishaan is not an idiot. At least not as much as Omi. It is just that both of them suck at studies, especially maths, and I am good at it. Hence, I have this chip on my shoulder.
It does sound a bit conceited, but it is the only chip on my shoulder. For instance, I am easily the poorest of the three though I will be the richest one day , even though Ishaan and Omi aren't particularly wealthy.
Ishaan's dad works in the telephone exchange, and while they have lots of phones in the house, the salary is modest. Omi's dad is the priest of the Swamibhakti temple, which actually belongs to Omi's mom's family for generations.
And that does not pay well either. But still, they are a lot better off than me and my mom. My mom runs a small Gujarati snacks business, and the little bit of money I make from tuitions helps us get by, but that's about it. Of course, it would have been too much for him to express such original insight. Some say Omi was born stupid, while some say he became stupid after a cork ball hit him on the head in Class VI. I didn't know the reason, but I did know that maybe the best idea for him would be to become a priest.
He wouldn't have much of a career otherwise, given that he barely scraped through Class XII, after repeating the maths compartment exam twice. But he didn't want to be a priest, so my plan was the best one. I ate the khakra. My mother made it better than Ishaan's mom. We were professionals after all. Dancing after an Indian victory was a ritual we had started when we were eleven, one that should have stopped by thirteen. However, here we were at twenty-one, jigging like juveniles.
Ok, so we won, someone had to. In mathematical terms, there was a pretty good probability - did it really need jumping around? The narrow lanes of the old city were bustling with the evening crowd. My house and Ishaan's were only half a kilometre apart. Everything in my world fell between this distance. I passed by the Nana Park, extra packed with kids playing cricket as India had won the match.
I played here almost every day of my school life. We still come here sometimes, but now we prefer the abandoned bank branch compound near my home. A tennis ball landed at my feet. A sweaty twelve-year-old boy came running to me.
I picked up the ball for him. Nana Park is where I had first met Ishaan and Omi, over fifteen years ago. There was no dramatic moment that marked the start of our friendship. Maybe we sized each other up as the only six -year-olds in the ground and started playing together. Like most neighbourhood kids, we went to the Belrampur Municipal School, hundred metres down Nana Park. Of course, only I studied while Ish and Omi ran to the park at every opportunity. Three bicycles tried to overtake each other in the narrow by lane.
I had to step inside Qazi restaurant to let them pass. A scent of fried coriander and garlic filled the narrow room. The cook prepared dinner, a bigger feast than usual as India had won the match. Ishaan and I came here sometimes without telling Omi, of course for the cheap food and extraordinary mutton. The owner assured us 'small mutton', implying goat and not beef. I believed him, as he would not have survived in the neighbourhood if he served beef. I wanted to eat here instead of Gopi.
But we had promised Gopi to Omi, and the food was fantastic there as well. Food is a passion here, especially as Gujarat is a dry state. People here get drunk on food. Yes, Ahmedabad is my city. It is strange, but if you have had happy times in a city for a long time, you consider it the best city in the world. I feel the same about Ahmedabad. I know it is not one of those hip cities like Delhi, Bombay or Bangalore. I know people in these cities think of Ahmedabad as a small town, though that is not really the case.
Ahmedabad is the sixth largest city in India, with a population of over five million. But I guess if you have to emphasise the importance of something, then it probably isn't as important in the first place. I could tell you that Ahmedabad has better multiplexes than Delhi or nicer roads than Bombay or better restaurants than Bangalore - but you will not believe me.
Or even if you do, you won't give a damn. I know Belrampur is not Bandra, but why should I defend being called a small-town-person as if it is a bad thing? A funny thing about small towns is that people say it is the real India. I guess they do acknowledge that at one level the India of the big cities is fake. Yes, I am from the old city of Amdavad and proud of it.
We don't have as many fashion shows and we still like our women to wear clothes. I don't see anything wrong with that. I stepped out of Qazi and continued my way home, turning in the pol towards Omi's temple.
Of course, we called it Omi's temple because he lived there, but the official name was the Swamibhakti temple. As I entered the by lane, two people fought over garbage disposal around the crammed pol. There are things about my small town neighbourhood that I want to change.
In some ways, it is way behind the rest of Ahmedabad. For one, the whole old city could be a lot cleaner. The new city across the other side of the Sabarmati river has gleaming glass and steel buildings, while the old city finds it difficult to get rubbish cleared on time. I want to change another thing. I want to stop the gossip theories people come up with about other people. Like the theory about Omi becoming stupid because a cricket ball hit him.
There is no basis for it, but every pol in Belrampur talks about it. Or the theory that Ish was thrown out of NDA and did not run away. I know for a fact that it is not true. Ish cannot handle unquestioned authority, and even though he was really excited about the army which was his only option , he could not stand some Major ordering him around for the next two decades of his life. So he paid the penalty, cited personal reasons like ailing parents or something and ran right back to Belrampur.
And of course, what I want to stop the most - the weirdest theory that I became emotionless the day dad left us. Dad left mom and me over ten years ago, for we found out he had a second wife across town.
As far as I can remember, I was never good with emotional stuff. I love maths, I love logic and those subjects have no place for emotion. I think human beings waste too much time on emotions. The prime example is my mother. Dad's departure was followed by months of crying with every lady in every pol coming down to sympathise with her.
She spent another year consulting astrologers as to which planet caused dad to move out, and when would that position change. Thereafter, a string of grandaunts came to live with her as she could not bring herself to stay alone. It wasn't until I turned fifteen and understood how the world worked that I could coax her into opening the snacks business.
Of course, my coaxing was part of it, the rest of it was that all her jewellery was officially sold by then. Her snacks were great, but she was no businessman. Emotional people make terrible businessmen. She would sell on credit and buy on cash - the first mistake a small business can make.
Next, she would keep no accounts. The home spending money was often mixed with the business money, and we frequently had months where the choice was to buy either rice for our consumption or black pepper for the papads.
Meanwhile, I studied as much as I could. Our school was not Oxford, and emphasis on studies was low with more teachers bunking classes than students. Still, I topped maths every single year. People thought I was gifted when I hit a hundred in maths in class X.
For me, it was no big deal. For once, the gossip vine helped. The news of my score spread across pols, and we had a new source of income - tuitions.
I was the only maths tutor in Belrampur, and bad maths scores had reached epidemic proportions. Along with khaman and khakra, trigonometry and algebra became sources of income in the Patel household. Of course, it was a poor neighbourhood, so people could not pay much.
Still, another thousand bucks a month was a lifestyle changing event for us. From fan, we graduated to cooler. From chairs, we went to a secondhand sofa. Life became good. I reached Omi's temple. The loud rhythmic chime of the bell interrupted my thoughts.
I checked my watch, it was 6 p. I saw Omi's dad from a distance, his eyes closed as he chanted the mantras. Even though I was an agnostic, there was something amazing about his face - it had genuine feeling for the God he prayed to. No wonder he was among the most liked people in the community. Omi's mother was beside him, her maroon saree draped along her head and hands folded. Next to her was Bittoo Mama, Omi's maternal uncle. He was dressed in a white dhoti and saffron scarf.
His huge biceps seemed even larger with his folded hands. His eyes, too, were transfixed in genuine admiration for the idols of Krishna and Radha. Omi would get into trouble for reaching the aarti late. It would not be the first time though, as matches in Nana Park were at a crucial stage around 6 p.
She stood outside the house. She had just finished loading a hired auto with fresh dhokla for a marriage party. Finally, my mother could delegate routine tasks like delivery and focus on her core competence - cooking. She took out a dhokla piece from the auto for me.
Bad business - snucking out something from a customer order. Nail-biting finish, we won,' I said, walking in. I switched on the tubelight inside. The homes in our pol required light even during daytime. I removed my shoes to get ready for a shower, 'you need a bigger grinder urgently, the small one is all wobbly' 'I will buy the TV if only the business makes extra money,' she said. If you make extra money, put it back in the business.
Don't buy useless things. I can always see the match in colour in Ishaan's house. My mother knew it was futile arguing with me. Without dad around, it was amazing how much say I had in the house. And I only hoped Ish and Omi would listen to my proposition as well.
My love for business began when I first started tuitions. It was amazing to see money build up. With money came not only things like coolers and sofas but also the most important stuff - respect. Shopkeepers no longer avoided us, relatives re- invited us to weddings and our landlord's visit did not throw us into turmoil. And then there was the thrill - I was making money, not earning it under some boss or getting a handout. I could decide my fate, how many students to teach, how many hours per class - it was my decision.
There is something about Gujaratis, we love business. And Ambadadis love it more than anything else. Gujarat is the only state in India where people tend to respect you more if you have a business than if you are in service.
The rest of the country dreams about a cushy job that gives a steady salary and provides stability. In Ahmedabad, service is for the weak. That was why I dreamt my biggest dream - to be a big businessman one day. The only hitch was my lack of capital. But I would build it slowly and make my dream come true.
Sure, Ish could not make his dream of being in the Indian cricket team real, but that was a stupid dream to begin with. To be in the top eleven of a country of a billion people was in many ways an impossible dream, and even though Ish was top class in Belrampur, he was no Tendulkar.
My dream was more realistic, I would start slow and then grow my business. From a turnover of thousands, to lakhs, to crores and then to hundreds of crores. I came out of the shower and dressed again.
I make the same things. What do you get at Gopi that I can't give you at home? And I want to talk to them about my new business. She raised dough-covered hands, 'You can take a year to prepare. Stop taking tuitions for a while, we have money now.
One of them was me not making it to a good engineering college. Tuitions and supporting my mom's business meant I could study less for the entrance exams. I didn't make it to IIT or any of the top institutes. I did make it to a far-flung college in Kutch, but it wasn't worth it to leave my tuition income, friends, cricket at Nana Park and mom for that.
Not that I felt any emotion, it just did not seem like the right trade. I could do maths honours right here in Amdavad University, continue tuitions and think about business. The Kutch college did not even guarantee a job. My heart is in business. Plus, I have already done two years of college. One more and I will be a graduate. Maths honours was a stupid course to take from an economic point of view.
I needed a degree and I can get it without studying much,' I said. I can't change that. Chunks of dough stuck to my face. You are always my son first.
I hated it. I hate a display of emotion more than emotion itself. Who cares? It is a buffet. Can you pass the ghee please? It has to be bad for you,' Ish said. One hour at Bittoo Mama's home gym. You do this everyday like me and you can hog without worry. There is no way Gopi could make money off him. Aamras, and ras malai.
Thanks,' Omi said to the waiter. Ish and I nodded for the same. I'm listening,' Ish said as he scooped up the last spoon of aamras. We'll talk over tea,' I said. People argued less on a full stomach. My treat is limited to a thali,' Ishaan protested.
I was only joking. Mr Accounts can't even take a joke. The one thing the book could have definitely done with though is some good editing. There are just too many anachronisms, mis-facts and fantasies in general - Aussies unbeatable in , metallica tees and incessant sms's in 90's India, "that South Indian opener Ramesh 'replaced' by Laxman in the second innings" in the Kolkata Test, taking khakras into Australia without a mention of customs Oh and hire someone who's finished 4th grade grammar while at it.
The story? It's about three yr old Hindu boys - Govind, Ishaan and Omi- opening a cricket shop in their neighbourhood along with some math and cricket coaching. The environment is a religiously and politically tense Ahmedabad. They mentor a Muslim boy Ali, a 'national treasure' who can hit any ball for 6 due to extraordinary reflexes.
The Hindu-Muslim riots crash their world and the three try saving the boy from Hindu fanatics baying for his blood. Add some 'original' content now and then - like Govind and best-friend Ishaan's sister Vidya falling in love, the Gujarat earthquake destroying their investments in a new mall, Hindutva party meetings, an Australian academy sponsored trip to Australia based on just 3 balls bowled to Ali , Govind realising his love for Vidya when he's away and is surrounded by beach babes, Omi coming in between Ali and a trisool thrust by his own father and dying, Ali taking down the last baddie by hitting the cricket ball precisely on his forehead, best-friends Govind and Ishaan dividing their shop into two halves with a divider right down the middle, and finally Govind attempting suicide.
Also throw in some passages on things that an everyday small-town school-going kid would relate to - math tuitions, tennis balls, how parents spend time and money only if it's related to studies, how nobody is allowed to follow their passions, how Australia with a population of 20 million should lose every cricket match to India's blue billion - and you have a potential bestseller.
A decent read if you liked the other two. Not great literature by any stretch but definitely captivating in parts. Did anyone else also keep waiting for handsome, blond, Aussie, "Pace mate" fast bowler Fred Li to turn out to be Brett Lee?
Aug 27, Jennifer Jacobs rated it liked it Shelves: My least fav CB book! A big letdown after 1 night at the Call center! Book had some highlights though,I after all lived through many events in this book myself like and ,that Oz India series and all. But I dunno,I just didn't like the storyline that much!
Romance didn't click much either. That tour of Australia was completely out of place and not at all necessary! Main character,a typical Gujarat Bania stereotype was okay,not great tho Girl was okay too,I liked the heroines in his 1st 2 novels My least fav CB book! Main character,a typical Gujarat Bania stereotype was okay,not great tho Girl was okay too,I liked the heroines in his 1st 2 novels much better and 2 states was the best ever Plot was so so overall just 1 star Ever read about the infinte monkey theorem?
If you haven't, It says that if an an infinite number of chimpanzees were set to type at an infinte number of typewriters they will almost surely type anything, such as the complete works of Shakespeare. Sadly,the same cannot be said for the bard Bhagat,as his works are so brilliant in their shittiness,they should probably be declared a marvel of quantum mechanics.
The story Quite simply, Three guys buy a cricket store. It collapses in an earthquake. Boo hoo. Writing The writing is truly divine. The lovemaking scenes beneath the "tanki" have been written with such eloquence and grace that George RR Martin allegedly shed a single tear while reading this masterpiece. He has decided he will quit writing since he obviously can never hope to match the standard set by Bhagat. Seriously though,you will probably find better writing in my passionate essay "Why girls are icky" written in the third grade.
Bhagat, for the love of humanity,call this farce off,write an apology note,and get a job. I doubt he would though. He probably cannot spell apology. Dec 29, Saritha rated it it was ok. I'm not a major fan of Chetan Bhagat, but I had to read this book because there's a movie being made, based on it.
But I can begin to see why Bhagat is so popular. It's written for easy transition into screenplay. Hopefully, I'll like the movie, Kai Po Che, better - the casting is perfect going by early reports This story has three very distinct characters, perhaps a little unidimensional Govind is the businessman type, Omi is the god fearing type and Ish is the cricket-crazy one.
Omi, in par I'm not a major fan of Chetan Bhagat, but I had to read this book because there's a movie being made, based on it. Omi, in particular, seems least defined, although he does play a major part in the way things pan out finally. His transformation in the way he regards his uncle is too soon, too quick and since the story is from Govind's point of view, not quite given the breathing space that it could have had.
Three Mistakes of My Life by Chetan Bhagat - PDF Drive
The last section is breathless, racy and efficient but I would have liked some more depth. Would have loved the book to have been a little longer. But yes, there are insights that I loved, but not enough to make me pick up another Bhagat.
Unless, of course, there's a movie in the offing. Apr 13, Navdha rated it did not like it Shelves: Why even bother with this book? Why even tell us a story which sounded like the script of a bad Bollywood movie? I mean, the title makes you actually worked up thinking what those colossal mistakes would be? Doesn't it? But after you're done with, forget the feeling of disappointment, but think about feelings of complete frustration.
Why you might ask? Because you'd be frustrated at yourself for giving this book the time that it didn't deserve. Just watch another movie, where a guy wants to star Why even bother with this book? Just watch another movie, where a guy wants to start his business and not do college, because he wants to follow his dreams. He works hard and earns enough money to buy a decent shop space but because his luck is all fucked up, an earthquake crushes all his dreams in the debris.
Then I don't really remember what happens cause it isn't too significant but he falls hard for his best friend's sister whom he tutors. Just ugh! Downright, clicje and boring.
It's supposed to be bro-code among guys that their sisters will not come under the evil crutches of their guy buddies. So when the protagonist does just that and goes out of the way to hide it from his best friend, you know their friendship is going to be doomed. Cliche alert: Best diaper buddies losing their forever friendship because of a girl. Ahem, and they also have sex during the so called math or whatever tuition classes, when the so-called best friend is right outside the other side of the wall!
Oh the girl was tutored alright. Just not the way her big brother wanted her to be. So in the end, some messed up shit happens. If I recall correctly some kinda riot. Oh did I forget to mention about a kid who is trained in cricket by another friend of the protagonist? His story is what you call a story to tell.
So I guess this kid also got involved in the religious riot and then in the middle of all that crisis, the best friend finds out about his sister and the serpent. He then punches him and then there are some words said and then the guy commits a suicide. Tries to commit a suicide. Doesn't die. And the story ends. Oh and what happened to the kid? I don't remember. Feb 10, Nemo rated it it was ok. After reading it, I would not advise anyone to read it. WOW, is that his first mistake, I thought, Gmail doesn't allow underscores, when will he learn.
Anyways, I continue to read it, and marvel the way the number 3 crops up again and again in the book: Anyways, the book lacks a single plot line. It doesn't at all appeal to me at any point. Its just the story of one boy, sometimes interesting, but mostly you would bang your head to the book, and think: Overall the book feels incomplete in a way, I don't expect after 2 books.
I am no fan of him, but i expect something more from the alleged "Best selling Indian Author" as said by New York Times. Beautiful story. This book is quite similar to Revolution Govind is so perceptive and focused. Ish has a intrepid personality though he is a bit fierce occasionally. But I wish he was a bit more considerate about their future.
Omi was a good friend regardless of his vapid behavior. What happened with Omi was despairing. His tragic demise was unexpected. Therewithal everything they did to support Ali was fascinating.
To have a selfless mentor like Ish is a blessing. Plus they rushed in to decisions too fast. Ending was good: May 31, Sundeep Supertramp rated it it was ok. First book of Chetan Bhagat 's which I felt boring The prologue of the book was so interesting and I couldn't control from completing the book in 2 days ya, it is a fast read for me..
But after reading this book, I felt the fourth mistake is me reading this book. It was so boring. But, the book was not so bad.
The story had more twists then any B-grade Bollywood movie.. Not so up to Chetan's level ya, he has some level in my view Sep 19, Mohit rated it did not like it. I have read five point someone. It was a ok type. But this book is total waste of time. I don't know about Chetan, but reading this book was definitely the biggest mistake of my my life.
Dec 22, Akshat Solanki rated it liked it. After reading the previous reviews, I understood a fact that Goodreaders don't like CB more than 2 stars. Hahaha, it's a true fact.
I justify 3 stars for this book in the following manner. The movie was good, I watched the movie solely for the reason I liked this book. It could have got better by cutting the useless After reading the previous reviews, I understood a fact that Goodreaders don't like CB more than 2 stars. It could have got better by cutting the useless scene with Ishan's sister.
Sep 01, Rajashekar rated it really liked it Recommends it for: At first, I would like name the Main characters which this novel contained of.
The Narrator of the story is govind, Vidya who is lover of him and sister of Ishaan who gives up his entire career only for cricket and OMI the son of the Priest in Nana Park Temple, also best friend of both of them. And a child character which turns story into different twists is ALI.
Bittoo mama and Parekhji psychos of religion. Coming to Govind patel, he is a great businessman who converts every incident to mathematical terms. He loves business and wants to earn crores of money through. For that he approaches his Ishaan and friends to be his partners. They agree with him and start a cricket business. As he thought, everything comes to him.
Their business loses more than one lakhs in navarangapura when earthquake happened. He considers that is the first mistakes of his life. But there is so much selfishness inside him which writer tries to hide. At least after this relationknow by the OMI who suggests him to be faraway from her. That is only the mistake he ever did in life though writer added those 2 mistake which were not in his hands.
However his character is never forgettable. Ishaan the heroic character, he is the one who is hardcore fan of cricket who gives up his career, fought with parents just only for cricket. But his determination to make ALI the Indian team player makes every reader thinks about the patriotism I feel.
A situation I liked so much in this book when Govind argues with him. But I also know what will happen if we fight thirty people. We will all die. Can you show me the maths in this? This is not about business.
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