An Unpredictable Movie Day

 hiii

I am Dhruvi Trivedi

*This is my first ever blog!*

I love writing—elaboration is just my superpower. {p.s because I am a student}

March 26, 2025—the day my friend and I decided to catch the latest film. We reached the mall—well, I was late (as always)—but somehow, we managed to make it to the ticket booth just in time.

I leaned over the counter and asked the young lady, “Can we get two tickets—”

“Recliner, please,” she cut in.

“Yeah, recliner seats, for All the Best, Pandya, 10:35 show,” I continued.

The lady at the counter gave us a polite but firm smile. “Sorry, that show has been canceled. No one booked tickets for it.”

Of course. I should have known—nothing in my life ever goes smoothly.

“Uh… okay. Can we get tickets for the next show then?” I asked, trying to keep my disappointment in check.

“Sure! 11:35 show.”

I didn’t even bother pretending to be excited. Why? Because now we had to kill an entire hour in the most lifeless mall ever—just a handful of restaurants, a supermarket, and a few office spaces. Nothing remotely fun.

And if you think this was the worst part of the day, hold on—this was just chaos number one. More disasters were waiting for us.

Next, we headed up to the third floor, chatting about school—after all, we had just finished our 10th-grade exams. For some reason, I found myself missing school. Weird, right? We started sharing memories, laughing about the good times, when suddenly—bam!

The demon of the month arrived.

#2 chaos of the day

Of course, it was periods. Because why not? As if the day wasn’t chaotic enough already.

I went to the washroom to check—yep, it was here. No doubt about it. And knowing this graveyard of a mall, there was no way we were finding pads anywhere in here.

Luckily, my house was nearby.

"Yaar, ghar jaake aati hu… waise bhi ek ghanta hai," I told my friend.

"Thik hai," she replied casually.

Then it hit me—what was she even going to do alone in this dead mall?

"Akele kya karegi idhar? Chal, mere saath chal," I said.

"Okay, chalte hain," she agreed.

We took a rickshaw—because walking? Not an option. Only girls will understand.

We reached my house, and I changed as fast as humanly possible. A quick glance at the clock—11:20.

Panic mode: activated.

We rushed back to the mall and made our way to the third floor. At the security check, I had my sling bag, and of course, they had to inspect it. I struggled to open it, fumbling like an idiot, while the lady guard chuckled. I giggled back—it was a moment.

Finally, we made it inside the theatre… and found ourselves in an almost eerie silence.

Except for one lone lady sitting there, the entire place was empty.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

We sat down and started chatting when my eyes caught sight of a family entering the hall.

"Chalo, hum akele nahi hai," I said, relieved.

"Haan," my friend giggled.

And then, I witnessed the most legit hack of all time.

Once the movie started, I noticed people who had bought normal seats casually making their way up to the recliners. What a genius move!

Pay for normal, wait, and if the recliners are empty—boom, free upgrade.

Classic jugaad. Of course, Gujaratis to jugaadu hoye!!!

The movie was great—no doubt about it! You should definitely watch it. It had everything: humor (of course, that’s the backbone of any Gujarati movie!), thriller, suspense, and a beautiful father-son bond.

By the time it ended, it was around 2 PM.

"Washroom chalna," my friend said.

"Thik hai," I replied, unknowingly walking straight into chaos number three—the dumbest one yet.

"Sun, ye jo humne coupons liye hai, wo kis cheez ke liye hai?" my friend suddenly asked.

"Pata nahi… chal, uss aunty se hi poochte hai," I suggested.

But wait—the movie was over, we had already come downstairs… and now we had to go on the ground floor and ask for our stupid question???

Well, what can I say? It was our right!

"Maine pehle hi kaha tha ki ye food coupons hai! Koi baat nahi, movie khatam ho gayi toh bhi upar jaake access kar sakte ho," the lady at the counter explained as we enquired about the mysterious coupons we had bought—without even asking what they were for.

Of course, we went back up.

At security, we had to explain the whole scenario all over again. They called someone, had a little discussion, and finally let us through.

I was beyond embarrassed.

We made our way to the food counter, where—yep, you guessed it—we had to repeat the whole story yet again.

The lady called the entire staff, narrated our oh-so-tragic story, and after some discussion, the head guy finally agreed.

We handed over the coupon, and they told us we could get one popcorn and a Pepsi.

Great, right? Except… I was fasting for Ekadashi. No food for me.

Still, we took it. Maybe I could have it the next day?

I asked if they could pack it for me. But of course, nothing in my life can ever go smoothly.

"Sorry, you can’t take anything outside," they said. "We don’t have anything to pack it in."

Seriously?! Why does everything have to be so difficult?!

Luckily, they finally allowed us to take it home—probably because I explained that I couldn’t eat it on the spot, and my friend wasn’t Kumbhkaran who could finish it all by herself.

In a last-ditch effort, we even tried selling it (yes, we actually tried), but—shockingly—no one wanted to buy it. So, we had no choice but to take it with us.

We wrapped the popcorn in tissues (five-star packaging skills), and since the Pepsi already had a covering ring, we thought we were good to go.

We were wrong.

As we walked out, the Pepsi started spilling— all over my pants, all over my hands.

"Why, God? WHY ME?!"

That day… only I know how I somehow made it home—with Pepsi all over my pants.

[We could have just wasted the coupon, but the fear of our moms’ scolding hit us hard. So, we took the food anyway—because not only had we already wasted money on the coupons, but if we wasted the food too?

That would’ve been a double crime.

Getting scolded for wasting money and food? No, thank you. Better to just eat it the next day and save ourselves the lecture.

P.S. Mummies didn’t scold us. Bach gaye! 😌]

 

My friend was going to drop me off, but the moment I saw the insane traffic, I just gave up.

"Bas, rehne de… main chalke hi chali jaungi," I sighed.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like God has written my fate just like Jethalal’s from TMKOC. Pure chaos, every single day!