Once upon a time… that is the way every story should start. Well, once upon a time, somewhere in the dark ages shrouded in the mists of time, I was a journalist. That is to say, I wrote for a living. Today, I struggle to find excuses to satisfy my editor for not meeting his given deadline. And my pet kuttichathan sits cross-legged on my monitor and chortles his glee at my predicament.
Where does a kuttichathan come into this story, you ask. Well, once upon a time before my brain atrophied from disuse, I made the mistake of writing about my very own kuttichathan for a web magazine. And my pet kuttichathan preened and wallowed in his five minutes of fame.
Where does a kuttichathan come into this story, you ask. Well, once upon a time before my brain atrophied from disuse, I made the mistake of writing about my very own kuttichathan for a web magazine. And my pet kuttichathan preened and wallowed in his five minutes of fame.
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