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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Prem's lips curved upward, a sly glint in his eyes as he watched the car, Bugatti La Voiture Noire.
He wore his pitch black helmet and in one swift motion, he revved his bike and aimed straight for the jackpot lying in his path. He increased the speed, accelerating to match the car's speed. Unfortunately, the Bugatti surged ahead, cutting straight through the wind. Gritting his teeth, he twisted the throttle harder, increasing his bike's speed as the wind slapped his face ruthlessly. His bike drew level with the Bugatti, its windows down.
He glanced inside and saw a child—a girl no older than five—sobbing in the driver's seat. She was alone, utterly alone, and a smirk curled on his lips inside his helmet.
This kid was going to be his jackpot.
Prem manoeuvred his bike closer to the car until he was just inches away.
"Come here, kid!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the wind. "You have me, I won't let anything happen to you." And with those words, he sealed his fate with her, forever.
The little girl turned to him, her eyes wide with fear and tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at him with a glimmer of hope, as if he were an angel sent to rescue her.
"Come to the window now." He repeated, loudly. "I will pick you!"
The girl only shook her head, sobbing harder. Prem gritted his teeth, irritation rising in him. This girl was already testing his patience. It was as if she was on a mission to self-destruct, but he wouldn't let her. She was his ticket to a jackpot of money, and he wasn't about to let her ruin his plans. The girl glanced ahead and shrank into her seat, fear etched on her pale face. Prem frowned and followed her gaze, only to see a massive wall looming ahead, the road veering off to the side.
"Fuck!" He cursed under his breath, urgency flooding his veins. He looked back at the girl, her eyes now tightly shut in terror. He knew he had to act quickly, or both she and his chance of becoming a billionaire would crash and burn to ashes.
His eyes flicked to his bike, his jaw clenching with resolve. Taking a determined breath, he grabbed the car window and let go of his bike, watching it crash and skid across the ground with a deafening noise. He tightened his grip on the car, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead despite the cold wind slapping his face. His muscles strained as he clung to the speeding vehicle, his heart pounding inside his chest, vision blurring from the speed of the car. With a final surge of strength, he forced himself through the window and entered the car.
As if sensing his presence in the car, the girl opened her eyes, and looked at him. Her large, tear-filled eyes gazed at him in fear. Below them sat a small button nose, and her small lips quivered with each sob. Her chubby cheeks had turned a pinkish-red given with all the crying. She looked like an angel, sent by God himself to the hell we call earth.
