How I Got My Dimples

When I grow up, if I turn into a public speaker, I swear to God I will tell this story in front of every audience (and probably get a standing ovation for that as well!). What is the story? It's about how I got my dimples. One clue. I didnt have them on my 4th birthday. I had two of them on my 5th. Intrigued?

Let's go to the story, shall we? First the scene. It's a bathroom (hold on, you perverts. The bathroom door is open...). My Mother is bathing me (dont expect to tease me with this. Your Mom must've bathed you too when you were 5 years old.)

To fully understand what happens next, you should know the following:

1. I had come home from Kindergarden. I was sweating and thus needed a bath.
2. My Mother was using a soap to bath me (like duh!).
3. The Tub had a kind of dumpy elevation in the front part (those who really are into this story, take a break and check out your bathtub. My guess is, it will have those same elevated bumpy stuff too.)

Now, as my Mother is bathing me, there's soap all over my body. So what happens is, I slip because my feet are soapy, and I land on the bathtub floor. Here is the main point of the story. As I fall, I slam my (left side) cheek onto the bumpy stuff. And then I cry and blah blah blah.

Guess what happened then. It turns out there is an impression on my left as well as right cheeks (the impact was that great..) By an impression, I mean, like how the moon has a lot of impressions on it. In other words....er.....holes. Alright, I'm not crazy, but the truth is, there were deep, hole like thingys on both my cheeks.

What my worried Mother and not so worried Father does, is go to a few doctors and get me some oinments. The Docs all said that the deep, hole like impressions would slowly heal. Well, atleast I have that as proof. The next time you see me, watch closely. My left cheek has a dimple. My right cheek apparently doesnt.

Normally, things arent like that my friend....

So all I'm saying is.....Would you like some Dimples?

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The Mallu Who Lived

I'm going to talk about the day that I almost died....

(All you cynical readers out there, dont rejoice yet. I said almost. But not quite. I'm still alive and kicking...)

The day was a long time ago. Back then, I was a 5 or 4 year old kid, enjoying my time in India. When the action starts, I'm in the front porch of my house, jumping around, making odd noises, and you know, playing with my lips (that was my way of enjoying.) Just then, my Mom got hold of me, and gave me some cough syrus (for my cough, obviously.) She saw that I had some peanuts in my mouth, but didnt bother about it. I didnt either. I just continued jumping around and making noises. Little did I know that those peanuts would kill me....almost.


Two days later, we all went to the doctor, (well I didnt want to go. I wanted to play with my lips and make odd noises...but who listens to me anyway!). My Mom just mentioned to the Doc that I had some peanuts in my mouth when she was giving me my cough syrup. The Doc (being one of the few good ones in India at that time) told that we should check it out immediately. I wasnt so enthusiastic about any of it, but before I could voice my opinion, they stuck a needle into me and gave me anesthetics. I dont remember anything after that.

Turns out, something bad happened. Now listen carefully, since this is the technical part of the story. It seems that after having the cough syrup, the peanuts got quite confused about which pipe to go down, and went through the wind pipe instead (I know, such retarded nuts!). What happened then, was that the peanuts ended up in my lungs. Not the ideal place for digestion, you'll agree.

The Doc was frantic about it all (I was unconsious...). He said that if the peanuts moved a bit more down my lungs, it would block the alveoli or something. I would just end up on the table, chocked to death, though it would be peaceful (since I was unconsious...)

My Mom got ready for her part of the role, and quickly began crying. My Dad did what he was supposed to, and began pacing around the rooom. The Doc, who thankfully knew what he had to do, ordered a Bronchoscopy.

Now most of you dont know what that is. It's this cool procedure, where they send a tube down your lungs. Obviously they all wanted the peanuts out of my lungs.

My extended family and relatives all sat at home and began praying for me. My Mom turned up a gear and more tears started flowing. My Dad....well he was a bit tired from all the pacing around. He took a bit of rest.

To cut a long story short, they took the bloody retarded peanuts out of my lungs, threw them away, and I was woken up. I couldnt understand why everyone started hugging me after that. Years later, my Mom told me this fantastic story.

I read Harry Potter, and thought, 'He just survived a killing curse. I survived a handful of peanuts trying to choke me to death. I'm way cooler.'

That's why I say....I'm the "Mallu Who Lived..."

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Once Upon A Time....When I Was Cute

Now don't laugh at the title. It's true. Once upon a time, I was cute. But I've grown older, more rugged now. Too much time in the sun, too much time in the kitchen....all have made me loose my cuteness.

I wouldn't have complained about it, if it wasn't for an annoying picture. The picture of my 5 year old self.

You see, a few months back, I decided to put this ridiculously 'angel' like picture as my MSN Display Picture. The reason? I couldn't find any present day picture of mine that was socially acceptable. The problem is, I think I've become jealous...of my five year old self. It's true. And there's a reason too.

Every guy who chatted with me, asked me who the kid in the pic was. I said its me. What do I get in return? :-O. Or :P. Now that's insulting!

What's more, the girls who chatted with me, immediately asked, "Whose picture is that?". I replied, (blushing - though I was sitting in front of a laptop) "Err...that's my picture. When I was 5 years old."

"Oh cho chweeet!" they all say. (I don't know why, but apparently 'Cho Chweet' is better than 'So Sweet').

"Thank you. The picture looks cute right....just like how I look right now?" I added, feeling a bit pleased with myself. Strangely, they all quickly went off line after that. I wonder why....

So late at night, or early in the morning, I stand in front of my mirror, looking at the picture of my 5 year old self propped up in front of me, and think to myself, "Ah...the good old days...when I was cute."

Note: From now onwards, the Blog will be updated every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.