I do not hate, I hate love stories. And why.

Scene at the movie hall:

The hot-dog tasted like a three week old chutney with a lot of lemon and sweat. And it was not hot. Cannot think of a good joke with dog.

The caramel popcorn had no caramel. The only thing that 'pop'ped out was my tooth.

The hot coffee froze my tongue. It's still sneezing. The tongue that is.

First they refused to sell the 'I hate luv stories' tickets. Reason? They needed at least 6 to make up the audience. We were only 3. Later 3 more souls turned up. Poor them. Poor us.

And then, the show that was to start at 945 did not do so till 1015 because of a supposed technical glitch.

I walked out of the hall with my money refunded after 15 minutes of haggling. Finger pointing. You-do-not-know-who-my-dad-is. (A Maths teacher, by the way). And showing them my wife's naval dependent card. Navel nai. Naval.

After spending one hour and having only the food bills to show for it.

Yet, I feel happy enough.

Probably, that is because I had undergone the entire experience of viewing Kites and Raavan as my last two movies. Because unlike IHLS, I was made to sit through those two ordeals. Here, I could escape cheap.

And 'What's your Raashee?' as well.

You can read the review of that movie here.