DJ Spin

I liked my small, cute, milky white teeth. Not only could they open a cookie jar but they were also able to inflict a great deal of pain on my sister, whenever she was within reach of my packet of milk bikis.

But then they started falling. One after the other, disarming me of my most powerful weapon in sibling warfare, reducing me to a hapless victim at the mercy of my sister's more
sinister ones.

Mum, being her usual chirpy self — she manages to find a lesson to be learnt and inspiration from every tough (read painful) experience in life — described, in great detail, about the tooth fairy and how all my teeth were required by the fairy so that she would be able to put stars up in the sky.

My tears dried up then, never to spill again when a tooth was being extracted. I even pulled out my remaining few teeth by tying threads to my toy truck so that the tooth fairy always had a steady supply.

And like most children, my dreams gave way to horror when the third grade school bully told me that the tooth fairy, Santa Claus and He-Man were all stories made up by adults – those very adults who told us not to lie and make up stories.

Understandably, I was devastated. Those childhood days came flooding back to when I saw Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic this weekend.

Angels and fairies in floral swings, cycling on rainbows with long white gowns and curly locks. Director Kunal Kohli sways his magic wand and makes the most ludicrous of scenes bewitching.

The movie is replete with heart warming moments especially the one where the sardar kid (Iqbal) admits that he does not like being a Sikh and gets teased for being different from his siblings.

The delicate way in which Saif douses out his angst is beautifully crafted. — Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic caters to the little people and for those big people whose hearts still hold a place for fairies.