Dissent in Ranks I write this much in shock of the younger generation and the times that we live in today. I’ve now realised advertising and advertising agencies and no longer what we knew and loved. No longer are we living in an era where agencies had one junior ‘flunk’ (I love this term) in the system who got harassed by all and sundry. Instead the trainees/ low lives/ flunks are now a new breed of savvy people who know how to get about pretty much everything. Forget harassing them you’ll actually be quite lucky to get one of them to look at you. No longer is this a set of meek people who agree to anything you tell them, but people who tell you what they want you to tell them. Gone is the age of innocence and discovery and instead it is replaced with knowledge of every advertising book written and articles in every month’s cosmopolitan about how to tell you boss off. And now they come in large numbers. Agencies on an average have 10 trainees across all departments, so this demon is
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As the year THUNDERS to the end After months of nothing but replies to stinker mails from clients, I return not triumphant but eager to my own space of personal madness. Also just realised after being asked for the 100th time what my new year plans are (always a bit slow on the uptake), that in 13 days it will be 2007. So here what the last 6 months have been like. Besides replying to not so nice emails, I also: Lost my baby CRYSTA, missed yet another trip to Goa, got moved to shitty new account, fought a lot with people I work with. Stop fighting with God and traded hair straightening chemicals to embrace natural hair.Realised natural hair thanks to advertising was rapidly turning grey. Rebelled against god yet again and coloured it. Found a new hair stylist who told me I was a ‘cool’ person and then proceeded to colour my hair blond. So now have mad blond hair which I’ve decided I quite like. Finally finished reading Bush in Babylon and have rejoined anti-America tirade with renewed
2006 - A love Story This by far is the most hysterical thing you can do. Somebody sent me this link to a site. When you get on the site the compute pops up a lot of really silly questions like "enter an adjective", "enter the name of a person of the opposite sex", "enter more adjectives", "enter a place","enter your favourite thing to do" and so on and so forth. After all that it gives you your love story Here's mine One Creepy Creep summer day at Katrigupe you see the most mean creature you have ever seen. His name is Anbu , and every move he makes just turns you on more and more. You nudge your best friend Nirmala and say, "Wow, that has to be the most Happy body I have ever seen." Suddenly, He looks in your direction and starts walking right towards you!!! He says, "I noticed you staring at me from over there. I just had to tell you, that I think you are so poignant , and was wondering if you'd like to go to B
Standing here until you make a move/ Hanging by a moment here with you. It was earlier this morning that I realised with an alarming note that my life has suddenly become directed by other people. Its no longer about what I want to do but about what everyone else in my life is doing and do I want to join in. One year ago, I traded by singledom to get into a life of couplehood. While on the surface that seems like a great transition, the truth is I have lost a lot more of my identity in this year that I have growing up the last 27 years. I’m not saying this in a mildly resentful manner but more in a "I’m so shocked" manner. Now anyone who knows me, thinks (and quite rightly) that I’m the beholder of my destiny, the captain of my ship, the fore runner of my relay team so on and so forth. That I do things when I want them, how I want them and where I want them. People have the option of coming along or be left out. Yet today, I’m standing still. Waiting for someone to tell me
To other Bridgets Read Bridget Jones, The edge of truth for the 375th time over the last weekend. Love this book. Even more, love this woman. For a long time honestly believed Helen Fielding has been inspired by me while characterising Ms. Jones. Then spoke to 10 other girls who told me, Bridget Jones is sooooo them. So what them makes all working girls above 25 feel like they are Bridget Jones? Is it the mad hair? The haywire financial and Love life? The one perfect guy that gets away and comes back? Is it the ever-supporting friends whose solution to most problems is alcohol? The psychotic mother? I don’t know, maybe its all of it. Maybe at the heart of it Bridget Jones is just a really really insightful book. Or maybe Helen Fielding remembers what its like to be 27.
The Scary side of 20’s/ Deep Thought Bad news not on the good side of 25 anymore. Worse news, for the first time I’m aware of it. Even more worse news, stagnating also for the first time in Life. Like Jerry Maguire says in his mission statement, these are scary times we live in (Maybe not in those exact same words but to the same effect). Anyway given my old creaky body, have also had many pondering moments. So I was just thinking last evening... "When did it all stop being fun and start being scary?" For Starters, less that a year ago life was hunky dory. I was on was constantly on a roll. It was always about how can this hideous thing be made more fun. I never had any trouble getting along with people, I could have a drink with almost anyone and actually find some common ground to talk about. If it was raining when I was in office like it is now, I would have without another thought jumped in and got wet and even dragged someone in with me. But of late I’m finding most of i
South of the Border/West of the Sun Read this fantastic novel.. Mind-blowing. Brilliant. Inspiring. Poignant. And a lot more. My first Murakami. Can’t believe have spent last 15 formative years reading and missed Murakami. Shattered. Warmly written, Brilliantly characterized, simply put and honestly written, it also has a really cool cover(original reason I bought the book) Cheers! To more Murakami (The only Jap I actually like)
Harry Met Sally/ To Love Given fluctuating romantic status and even more fluctuating mood swings, to say the least have been excessively Emotional. Now quoting romance movies (though I do it slyly and pretend it was my own musing) is not really my style. More in the arena of good friend Shivali who writes in her little dairy in dark cinema halls when she hears, what she thinks in a good quote. Anyway, Like stated given present condition was just flipping through channels last night when caught the last 10 minutes of Harry Met Sally. And was overwhelmed by what Harry tells Sally in the end. He says: 'I came here tonight because when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.' Deep. Terrifying.
White/ Elusive White that slips me by Continuing in state of despair, my shattered world has shattered even more. And this time, a completely stranger woman person shattered it even more. Why? She was wearing a white pant that was spotless and creaseless. How Oh How is that possible?How a dozen reasons why I can’t wear white and hence feel suicidal and shattered (Here I describe my average day)? First, wake up and stumble towards the loo. Accidentally step on sleeping dog. Earth dog takes form of vicious attacking alien and rips pajamas Clutching ripped pajamas charge to loo only to find it occupied by other members if family Family member does not arrive for next 45 minutes by which time about to pass out from ammonia overdose Charge to loo, relieve oneself. No time to wait for geyser to heat up so take bath in ice cold water Charge out, step on sleeping dog and get viciously attacked again Wolf down breakfast Drop some food on oneself. No time to change so try to charge out when vici
Theories/ For Me and YOU Now this my area of excellence. One rule for you and One to judge the world with. I’m hurt but hey it’s okay for me to crush your balls. I lied but how dare you lie to me. I won’t call but you’ll be damned to hell if you don’t. My work is important but of course you have to drop everything and come to my rescue when I want to check what the expiry date of a product (this particular point I admit is personal) Half a dozen of my favourites. Some my own, some pearsl of wisdom I have collecetd on the way from others. Soul Mates are a cliché. They exist only in the aisles of Hallmark and Archie’s card stores but hey, However I will only marry my true soul mate Love in its purest form does not exist in this world but guess what I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love. Women don’t care but a guy’s looks. Its all about the personality but my Ideal guy is 6 feet tall, athletic body, bro
For Vicky On March 5th 2006 at 1:00pm Vicky, Dog and companion extraordinaire breathed his last in Sarita Raghavan’s arms. With his liver finally giving up on him, the death was quick and fast. Buried in the PFA pet cemetery in Kengeri, he now shares a living space next to Richie. Dog and companion of another grieving owner. When I started writing this it was originally turning out to be something that if anyone, who knows me read would cry. But for the first time in my life I want this to be about Vicky not about me and how I feel. I want this to forever be the way I’ll remember him. The way he deserves to be described. The way he left his life. Sixteen years ago when he wandered off the streets and chose to live with us, I remember how small he was. A little mutt that always knew what he wanted to do. He wagged his tail when he wanted, he ate when he wanted to, he ate what he wanted to. We got him in a crowd where no one else had a dog. At a time when we all had a lot of time. This
Love is a Crapping Horse! I been wanting to write this for so long that I can't even remember too clearly what I wanted to say. I'm going to attempt to write this anyway, So there! At the outset I must claim that neither the statement nor the support is original. Quoted by Will Truman of the "Will and Grace" fame, it still is a profound statement. So why is Love a crapping horse you wonder? . Like Will says," Love is like being driven in horse drawn carriage on a moonlit night in a beautiful park. In the beginning it’s incredibly romantic but eventually you realise that you're cold and that you are staring at the butt of a horse that is crapping". While this analogy maybe true for some of us, I'm sure that is still percentage of the love population who will take offence at this statement So here is presenting a healthy comparison for and against this statement. Supporting this is easy. Compare 90% of all relationships in your life and I mean not just
The Wonder years I was driving to work today and owing to really bad traffic in Airport Road, I was forced to take a detour through Cambridge lay-out. Now for the uninitiated, I grew up in that neighborhood. And today as I was driving past what used to be my house, I saw my old neighbor auntie who still lives in the ground floor of the building. Now, this auntie popularly referred to as Susheela Auntie, mostly because Susheela is her name and auntie because she is too old to be called anything else, I never really liked. She was a kind of mean woman who would actually tell me things like "Oh! I see you haven’t taken bath as yet. It’s all because unlike me who wants to spend time with my kids, you mother cares most about her work." Now I know this seems shockingly scarring but really for me it was like water off a duck’s back. Anyway so I started thinking about how it was growing up. Fortunately unlike Kevin from Wonder Years I didn’t grow up and then rape a girl at 16 but rea