Grand Masti - Fun Never Ends. Neha Puntambekar

concerned. “There’s a lawsuit here, and bad publicity, and possible jail time; there’s too much trouble.”

      Priya was summoned. She paled when she saw Amar in the office. “What’s happening?” She asked.

      An employment contract was placed in front of her, specifically the paragraph about client privacy. They made sure the video was deleted right there. If it got leaked, the boss promised to take her to court and fight her to bankruptcy. If she behaved, he was willing to write her a letter of recommendation.

      It was her choice to make. She chose the latter.

      As she walked out, Amar blew her a kiss; he didn’t tell her that he had been fired too, without a letter of recommendation.

      The boys sat huddled in their hostel room, nursing their various scars.

      The new month had rolled over and fresh allowances had been credited into their bank accounts. Over a round of hot tea and crackers, they recounted the last three weeks.

      “Never again,” Amar’s voice was a mixture of relief and regret.

      “Never again,” Meet and Amar repeated after him.

       BALANCE SHEET

      Meet’s usual carefree facade had cracked. He was in major trouble this time.

      Last month’s credit card bill had earned him a call from daddy dearest. “A little lesson for you, son: money, contrary to your beliefs, does not grow on trees. The next time you want to burn it away, earn your own,” he spat out. “Don’t make me come down there Meet. I don’t have that kind of time to waste.”

      And what had he done?

      Just that – he had swiped and swiped and swiped away. Thankfully, his father was travelling at the moment. At least the man wouldn’t be marching up to college and pulling Meet out of the classroom by his ears. Maybe time and distance would help quell his father’s anger. And by the time he returned, Meet would get his act together and show some swipe-restraint, proving to his dad that he wasn’t as much of a spendthrift.

      Breathing a little easier, Meet climbed the steps up to his hostel. He’d draw up a game plan. He’d be responsible. This would be easy.

      “Hello Meet,” a cold and clinical voice greeted him, a voice he despised with a burning passion. “Your father is busy, but he asked me to take care of your new mess.”

      “Imran uncle, it’s nice to see you again.” Meet set his voice in the exact cold and detached tone as his father’s trusted money man. The last time this man had been sent down to the trenches, he had made Meet’s life miserable. This time it was going to be worse, of that Meet was sure.

      “You know why I am here. Somehow you’ve managed to spend a small country’s income this month, Meet,” he said brandishing a credit card bill at Meet. “Your father is disappointed.”

      “What’s new?”

      “I am a busy man, Meet. There are real things, important things that need my attention. Instead I am here again, trying to clean up after you,” disproval dripped from every word. And even though Meet was used to it, it still stung. “You are going to sit down and explain each of these ridiculous expenditures. He pointed at a string of transactions that were highlighted by a neon marker.”

      “Sit down Meet,” Imran repeated, and Meet did just that. He took in an unnecessary deep breath. It was time to suck it up and get this ordeal over with.

       Down Rs. 10,000 ~Short Term Memory Loss

      It was on the bucket list: be part of a gang war.

      “Like the West Side Story,” Prem said, with bubbling enthusiasm.

      “Like the Outsiders,” Meet cut in.

      “Khoon-kharaba, maar-dhaad. Finally a chance to earn some scars,” Amar added.

      And so on that fateful day, when the sun was at its brightest, the two gangs faced off in the woods behind the college campus. It was going to be intense; it was going to be brutal; it was going to be an afternoon full of hurt, pain and humiliation.

      It was the boys against the girls.

      “Losers streak across the college cricket ground, twice if it’s with underwear on,” Prem said.

      It’s not like the guys needed further incentive –they were paintball champions two years running now, but Prem didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

      The boys were arrested on their second lap. They were slapped with a multitude of charges, including pornography for a video that some student recorded on his mobile of youngsters dashing across the cricket ground in stages of undress.

      “There could be jail time. There might be a court case. These are dangerous charges. It’ll be all over the media,” the arresting officer warned them. “Your parents will definitely have to be called in to the station.”

      He gave the boys a minute to understand the gravity of the situation before he added, “Of course, I could be convinced to forget this nonsense ever happened.” His face tuned smug as he saw hope flare up in their eyes, “for the right price.”

       Down Rs. 17,500 ~Of Utilities & Other Essentials

      Everything was in order. The Playboy magazines were hidden under the raddi; there wasn’t a single pair of underwear in sight; curtains and sheets were introduced to the living quarters; scented candles sat on the nightstand; food had been ordered. They needed just one more thing to make this a real moving-in party: alcohol.

      “Hello Sir, we’ve moved into the flat upstairs. “We are having a small moving in party, and we’d like to invite you. And um, sir, I’m sorry about this but we didn’t realize today was a dry day. Do you have any alcohol to spare? We’ll pay for it, of course.”

      “If you’re willing to pay, I am willing to help; we are neighbours after all,” the short. Oily man from the third floor said; his eyes were wide with excitement, whether it was from the invite or from the prospect of extra cash, they weren’t sure. “I’m looking forward to your party. What did you say your name was again?”

      They only had 12 more flats to go.

       Down Rs. 30,000 ~The Fall of Romeo

      “Hi Mom,” Prem said, weighing every word carefully.

      “Yes, I am fine. We are having a really good time here.”

      “Yes, Goa is lovely right now. It’s not too hot.”

      “Meet and Amar are swimming right now, but I’ll pass on your greeting.”

      “I think we’ll stay for another week at least. And then head back directly to college.”

      “Yes, I’m sorry for not making it home this time around. But we were exhausted after the exams and just needed to chill.”

      “Thanks Mom, I love you too.”

      As he cut the call, Prem hissed in pain. His cracked rib had protested quite violently through the conversation. The three friends had learnt an important life lesson this week: broken bones are expensive. Hospital rooms that don’t smell like medicine are even more so. And if you’re in the habit of chasing after the wrong girl, it’s prudent to check for unmentioned boyfriends beforehand, if you want to avoid both.