Chez Moi

Last Saturday, on my way to watching that crapola fest called Dhoom:2, I tripped and fell down the stairs. A combination of new tights, wrong shoes and well, me, meant as I was halfway down the steps, I took a short cut and rolled down the rest of the way. Banged my knee, cracked my shin, pulled a muscle in my arms as I battled with gravity - a whole plethora of woes, in fact. Of course, sod’s law being what it is, I had to bump into this couple we rarely ever see and there were embarrassing looks all around. Not me - I was busy trying not to scream.

Having said that, this ain’t new for me. This time, I came down rather like Ben Stiller in one of his flicks. On one previous memorable occasion, I did a Obi-wan Kenobi type of ‘plop’ and came down in a heap. That was on one of my very first dates with my new boyf and I was sure going out of my way to make sure he remembered me!

I guess you could call me a connoisseur of falls - a straight-forward trip, a more complicated twist, dodgem car-type maneuver, you name it, I’ve done it. I should stop doing it one of these days, I know. Till then, I should probably sell tickets and make some money while I was at it. Might as well make some money out of my ‘chilrai varufying’, if you get what I mean!