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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It's Brunch Time!

Let me tell you one of the highlights of my vacation. I slept at 2 in the morning, and woke up at 12 30 in the afternoon. Hmmm...So doesnt anyone besides me think that's kinda cool?

I realised that there are several benefits to waking up so late:

1. You dont have to wake up early in the morning (Kind of obvious, but important nevertheless...)
2. You get to same a lot of money on food, and you can even reduce weight.

Alright, the second point needs an explanation. After waking up, I thought about what I should eat. Breakfast or Lunch? For help, I turned to a friend of mine who has ample experience in this regard. The advice I got? Eat lunch, dumbo!



As I was happily eating lunch, I though about how good this was going to be for me. I could start a weight loss regime. The secret? Sleep early in the morning, and wake up in the afternoon. Hence you can skip a meal, and thereby reduce your weight!

Excitedly, I told my parents about my new found routine. They werent so happy. In fact, my Mom shouted at me. But hey, I was pretty happy. In fact, I decided to learn a new recipe for 'Brunch'. From now onwards, I would sleep at 2, wake up at 12 30.

It was all going fine. In fact I was having a dream about the perfect Brunch for me. Just when I felt someone give me a strong whack. I looked up, and saw my loving father. "Get up!" he said.

"Why?" I asked him. "Because you havent finished your holiday homework. Now get up and do something!"

I looked at the clock. It was 6: 15 A.M. Yawning badly, I got out of my bed.

So much for my Brunch recipe....

My Movie Reviews...

I've always wanted to write movie reviews. In fact, this time around, I was inspired by Rajeev Masand, the top movie critic who decided the fate of Bollywood movies released every Friday.

So here goes my reviews. Criticism of my criticism is welcome.

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."

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What's Wrong With My Hello?

What's wrong with my Hello?

Yup, I'd like to know that, thank you. At first I thought it was just some kind of a joke going around. But now I'm seriously taking up this issue.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, here's the details.

Like any active teenager, I receive phone calls from my friends. While attending those phone calls, I - as per 21st century protocol - start by saying, "Hello."

And the smart mouth at the other end, starts his conversation by saying, "Ha! What kind of a Hello is that? Ha-lo? Don't you even know how to say Hello properly?"

I don't suffer from extremely low inferiority complex. But when a few guys, over the course of a few months, tell me the same thing, I start to feel bad about my "Hello".

So like any normal teenager trying to fit into society, I decide to improve on my hello...


"What's wrong with it?" I ask with concern. My friend likes the sudden authority he has. "Well, you sound as though you just came running to get the phone."

The next time the phone rang, I was at my study table. Getting up slowly, I hummed a tune, and slowly walked along the corridor. My mother started screaming at me to get the phone. Still breathing calmly, I neared the phone, took a short breath, and picked the receiver. The line was dead. Apparently I took a little more time than allowed.

My mother was furious at me. "Why on earth cant you pick the phone up quickly?" she asked.

I nodded my head. "You wont understand, mother. You wont understand."

This happened for about four times. Finally, I did dash to get the phone. Gasping for breath, I said, "Hello?"

It was the same smart mouth who hurt my self - esteem. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "I've been trying to call so long, and no one's picking the phone?"

I mumbled some excuse for that. "Anyways, leave that," he said. "Man, you're 'Hello' is so crap! Ha-lo? Ha ha..."

I tried a different style from then onwards. "Good Morning" was kinda good, until my friends started thinking they'd dialled the wrong number.

"Hi" was nice for some time, but somehow it never caught on. Finally, in an act of desperation, I picked the receiver once and said, "Yo!"

It was my biology teacher. After asking whether she had dialled the correct number, she wanted to speak to my mother. About ten minutes later, my mother came up to me, looking annoyed. "I just talked to your teacher now," she said. "Son, what's wrong with your hello?"

From then onwards, I seldom attend the phone....

Over and Out.

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.

Singh is Kinng - Movie Review

I must admit that I have a prejudice against big budget, 'Masala' entertainers. Which is why I would have never wanted to watch Singh is Kinng. But I did. And I've changed my opinion about the movie a bit.

First, let me tell you what I thought Singh is Kinng would be like. I thought it would be a silly movie, filled with cheesy jokes, over the top action that didn't make sense, too many songs, James Bond like style from Akshay Kumar, and so on.

Now let me tell you what I saw. The movie isn't a masterpiece. Even the director himself would willingly agree. The question is, does it entertain? Hell ya!

The movie is funny at places, though not the kind which makes you roll on the floor. Yet, what I really appreciated about the movie, is that it doesn't bore you. Even when Akshay Kumar is showing his antics, you want to watch. You don't look at the floor, or stare at your watch, wondering if the time will pass more quickly. That's a great plus point.

And something that surprised me about the movie, is its presence of a heart. I mean, as I said, I knew the movie would entertain. But give a moral at the end? That's exactly what the movie does, though again, it sounds a bit melodramatic and preachy.

All in all, I would like to say that Singh is Kinng is a watchable movie. It has style, humor, and an engaging narrative. The plot isn't amazing, still the movie works. I wouldn't say this is a must watch, but if you happen to go to the theater with your friends, it wouldn't hurt to watch this movie.


Scorecard (Out of 5):
Acting: 3.5
Script: 3.5
Music: 4
Direction: 3.5
Choreography: 4
Overall: 3.5
Repeat Viewing Value: 1 - 2