Prem Khatri, the quintessential berozgar (unemployed), juggles two main occupations- a part-time job searching for real employment and a full-time job enduring his parents' incessant taunts.
Money is his obsession. He worships money, dreams of mone...
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"Nihayti nalayak ki aulad! Get up, Prem, or else I will scoop your ass with my rolling pin!" His mother's voice screeched from the kitchen.
(Child of most worthless person)
Prem woke up with a jerk, rolling over his small bed and then falling on the floor with a thud like a damsel in distress. He groaned, rubbing his sexy and now sore bum. "This royal bum deserves better treatment." He muttered to himself, half wishing he could afford a cushion for his glamorous posterior. With a sigh, he grabbed a cushion from the bed, placed it under his butt, and lay back down on the floor, his hand dramatically covering his face. Now he will continue his beauty sleep.
That hope was shattered when the door burst open, and there stood his mother, looking like a villain straight out of a daily soap opera. "Prem!" she yelled, loud enough for the entire locality to hear.
He wondered how his dad coped with his mother. "Mummy yaar, just 5 minutes more!" he grumbled, trying to shield himself from her wrath with his arm.
His mother, however, was not to be deterred. She marched over and smacked his shoulder with her rolling pin, hard. Prem screamed, the pain jolting him awake. "Mummy, are you my mother or my mother-in-law? Who the hell beats their grown-up son?!"
"You lazy bum, if you don't get up right now, I'll use this rolling pin on your head!" she threatened.
Prem groaned and rubbed his sore shoulder. "You're going to get arrested and thrown in jail for domestic violence," he muttered as he lazily got up from the floor, more like dragging himself upright.
His mother scoffed, crossing her arms. "I gave birth to you, you nalayak. Even I will see how can someone arrest a mother for beating her own son!"
He scowled and headed towards the bathroom. "If I ever end up with a rolling pin-shaped bruise, I'm going to sue you!" Just as he closed the door behind him, he heard his mother shout. "Prem, get ready fast. It's your second day at work as a pizza delivery boy!"
Prem winced as his mother's words hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Pizza delivery boy.
"She didn't have to say it out loud. What will happen to my royal image?" He muttered under his breath.
He knew he was destined for something big. Sure, people loved to say 'no job is too small' philosophy, but he wasn't buying it. The moment he was born, he was certain that Kanha ji (Lord Krishna) had scripted a blockbuster future for him. Who was he to rewrite the divine plans of Kanha ji himself? If it weren't for his father's relentless taunts and constant belittlement, he never would have stooped to such a low job.
The future hottest billionaire, Prem Khatri, working as a pizza delivery boy. It sounded like the setup to a bad joke.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he adjusted his stance and gave himself a smug smirk. He exude the aura of a sexy billionaire straight out of a romance novel that his younger sister, Shruti, seemed to read.
