Neha Puntambekar - Grand Masti - Fun Never Ends

“See, that’s why I like you so much, Prem,” she laughed a rich throaty laugh, running her finger across his face.

“Thank you, Maam,” he smiled back.

“Come see me later today, at 3 o’ clock. Don’t be late, Prem, but don’t come too early either.” She walked away, with a little extra something in her sway.

I won’t . He would work hard and hopefully she’d shower him with all the attention he needed. Prem finally understood the purpose of college and the role of a good, grounded education. His Dad’s words come filtering through: “Prem, everything I know today is because of college. I had such committed teachers; they never gave up till I was perfect. Round after round, in class, through private tuitions, they kept going. Now it’s your turn. Just remember to be attentive.”

And he would be. He’d be attentive and thorough. After a whole year of being mediocre, Prem had found the perfect incentive to score well, and score he would.

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

“Never again,” Meet and Prem parroted him.

“From now on, I will toe the straight line,” Prem added in earnest. “Do you guys know where I can Google stuff like that?”

“Can’t be too hard, everyone else seems to have stumbled on it,” Meet suggested, “It’s like a template they hand out, I think: study, graduation, find proper jobs.”

“A proper job? Like in a bank, or something?” Prem asked.

“Yeah, or something sounds about right,” his friends added, their expressions sombre.

It had been an exhausting three weeks for the three friends. Of course, they were always broke. What else could be expected of student life? But then they swung from broke to flushed to broke again, from carefree to careworn, from wanted to hunted, from boys to slightly more grown-ups. Some would call these three weeks life changing. Meet, Prem and Amar called it Monday.

They had blown their allowances on some low grade weed – there literally was more grass in it than anything else, peddled by a six-foot-four, well-built Russian exchange student. Unfortunately, one of him could break all of them, so there was no getting their money back. Despite the hunger pangs, none of them called home for a refuelling. Even idiots like them knew never to poke the angry bear.

They were passing a packet of Parle G around, savouring every bite, when Prem came up with a solution, another one of his ‘grand ideas’ . He was holding open the classified section of a tabloid, grinning like a maniac. “I found it guys, I found a way to have our pot brownies and eat them too.”

The plan was simple. They’d sign up for slightly risqué jobs – jobs they were guaranteed to love; jobs that’d get them money, honeys, and some masti . What could possibly go wrong?

Fitness was a passion for Meet. Not too many people knew of his pudgy teen phase, where he was mocked and picked on by the popular kids. After his 10 thexams, he swore he’d never get out of shape again. He was proud of what he had achieved. And he had no qualms about dropping his clothes off to put his work on display.

He found his perfect job when the professor at an art school told him, “We’ll require you to pose in the nude for an hour every day”.

The money more than made up for it, but what he really enjoyed was the class full of hot chicks, running their eyes across his frame every day. He hoped in a couple of days he’d be able to convince at least a few of them to explore him a bit more intimately. Really, could he have found a more enjoyable job?

Prem was born with two right feet. It was true. His mom was fond of saying Prem could dance before he could walk.

“We cover entertainment at local sangeets , kitty parties, hen parties, that sort of thing,” the events manager told him. “Do you think you can manage?”

Prem took to it like a fish to water.

Given his particular brand of charm, he got fast-tracked to kitty parties, and Prem couldn’t be happier. He got to dance for cougars; cougars were his fourth most favourite thing in the world after his friends, Baywatch reruns, and beer. And the cougars really liked him too. He was delighted when they turned out to be a handsy bunch, handsy and rowdy to boot. Prem had found his calling .

When you came from a family of Doctors, you ended up learning quite a about the human body without even trying. It was this awareness that had pushed Amar towards the family trade; he had been studying medicine for a while now. The road to getting licensed to practice was a long one. But one of the many advantages of being a future-medical-intern was that people had no objections to being touched by him. He got away with a lot in the name of a full body massage.

The local ladies’ gym was the perfect excuse of a job. He had more fun ‘working’ over the last three days, than he had had in the entire last month. He had helped unknot more than a few tensed muscles, and the tips, mixed with phone numbers, had been phenomenal. Thank you, scary Russian, for helping me find my way to heaven .

“I need more practice with the gluteus maximus, maybe we can have a one on one session later?”

“I’m a little stuck on the lips, but I think it’s just about working on it.”

“I’ve always been a little shy, and they don’t they say the best way to get over it is to plunge right in?”