KEEP OFF THE GRASS (Marathi)

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU ARE A TWENTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD YALE GRADUATE MAKING HALF-A-MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR AS A HOTSHOT INVESTMENT BANKER ON WALL STREET? YOU BUST YOUR ASS AND BECOME A MILLIONAIRE BY THIRTY, OF COURSE. NOT IF YOU ARE SAMRAT RATAN, BORN IN THE USA TO IMMIGRANT INDIAN PARENTS; YOU QUIT AND ENROL IN BUSINESS SCHOOL IN INDIA INSTEAD. SAMRAT`S ROLLERCOASTER JOURNEY BEGINS AT THE INDIAN INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT (IIM) IN BANGALORE, WHERE HE SPENDS HIS TIME GETTING HIGH ON MARIJUANA WHILE HIS GRADES – AND SELF-CONFIDENCE – PLUMMET. SOON, SAMRAT`S QUEST FOR IDENTITY TURNS INCREASINGLY BIZARRE AS IT TAKES HIM PLACES HE HADN`T PLANNED ON VISITING – PRISON, FOR EXAMPLE – AND MAKES HIM DO THINGS HE HADN`T BANKED ON DOING: `MEDITATING` STONED WITH A SEXY DANISH HIPPIE IN THE HIMALAYAS, HANGING OUT WITH A CANNIBAL ON THE BANKS OF THE GANGA, AND PEDDLING SOAP TO THE FORMIDABLE RAJA BHAIYA IN BENARES. DOES SAMRAT – YALE VALEDICTORIAN, INVESTMENT BANKER, CONVICT, POTHEAD – SURVIVE HIS FALL FROM GRACE