Friday, December 21

Thursday, November 8

Gone 'til November

Well, that time of the year is approaching. And how.
Since my birthday falls in this month, would always get new Christmas clothes as well around the same time. Actually, come to think of it, I only got birthday clothes, maybe an extra shirt or T-shirt which mummy never allowed me to wear until Christmas. Smart!
Remember this one birthday, came back from school. Rummaged through the usual places – mummy’s ‘steel’ almirah, papa’s ‘Godrej’ almirah (never did figure out why the differentiation when both were Godrej and both were made of steel) And our (Bruce and mine) cupboard. Did not find anything. Went up to mummy in the kitchen. Asked her as politely and sweetly as I could. She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t wait for papa to come back and see if he was carrying a ‘plastic cover’
Till I went to hang or take off something from the clothesline. Saw this rather pale looking shirt, carelessly hanging there. Took if off, gave it a thorough look-through. Wasn’t too impressed. Till I flicked open the collar to check out the label. And there it was, white letterings embedded in a small patch of green that proudly declared – UNITED COLORS OF BENETTON.
Being the shallow human being that I was and still am, I squealed with joy. Suddenly, miraculously I loved the garment. It was, as I told mummy, UCB.
I had always seen the shop off, Park Street, whenever I passed by. Next to it was Burlingtons. There was a table tennis table in the shop. Cool looking people (or so I thought at that time) were playing the game. ‘Inside the shop, mummy. Inside the shop’I used to jump about saying. It had to be a cool shop.

Anyways, November is here. December will soon follow suit. Donno why things have to change when you become older. Earlier we would do anything to get into the coolest of places to usher in the New Year. Someplace Else, CCFC, Ricky Diwan’s party and what not. And more often than not, we never managed to be there and do that, so would settle for what they now call, ‘House Party’ Andalib’s aunts flat. Lots of us friends. Some booze. Food. And if someone was lucky enough to have a girlfriend, she and maybe, just maybe, some of her friends. And today when procuring or buying an entry pass is no big deal, when I speak with most of them, they all have the same thing to say, “kuch nahin yaar, ek house party ka program hai”
Shit! life has changed!.

Monday, November 5

greyate

So here I am attempting to post a blog after a long, long time.
My first from within the walls of Grey.
Am working my butt off so writing it in format that proves the point.

THINGS I LIKE ABOUT THE PLACE

- bigger room
- not sharing with it anyone…even pappu
- 32”LCD
- my own secy, won’t have to molest Mavis to get work done.
- u can’t smoke inside cabins
- you cant eat inside one too
- samir and anju
- rooftop cafeteria/dining hall
- the infocell. I name a book and they have it. So much for mohananan and his mallu talk.
- the proactive work weekend
- the awards drive
-winning the Audi pitch

THINGS I’M NOT SO FOND OF…

- missing my sea view
- you can’t eat in cabins
- the canteen food. lowe anna’s food will beat the daylights out of this guys food.
- the energy around. HR tells me, I have to drive it. Phew!
- not winning the 7UP pitch.

Donno why, but suddenly lost the enthu to type. I’ve just blanked out.

The 2 departments that shocked me where the Films and the HR. Out-bloody-Standing!
Not to forget the interactive division. Sudhir’s the man!
Been working more than I’ve ever done in my life.
Been pitching at a pace that will put Javagal Srinath to shame.
Javagal Srinath of the ‘I-will-only-pitch-short’ fame.

So far it feels good. The vibes seem nice. Just a tap here, a pat there to ensure some things fall in line.

Rest in pics…

Tuesday, August 21

H2Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!



Serving my notice period in Lowe.
Relax! Don’t have that feature film script yet. Not even one that stars Himesh!
Come to think of it, haven’t yet cracked the 30 second format. 3 hours is a long way off.
It only means I’m joining another advertising agency. Am moving to Grey Worldwide. (The latter half of the name ensures that it sounds international.)

Have 2 films to see through before I take a break and then join.
First film: Titled ‘Little Monk’
Client: Havell’s (of the electrical fittings fame)
Location: Ladakh (Wow!)

Second film: Titled ‘Verdict’
Client: Greenply (of the sardar bachcha speaking in Tamil fame)
Location: Bombay

So here I was on the late-evening flight to Delhi. Sitting in the Jet lounge with Priti sharing a Coke, bump into Vinnie. He’s all excited about meeting up with A. R. Rahman, missing his flight and being able to use his coupons to upgrade to Business Class.

Landed in Delhi. Picked up and driven past sleazy hotels. Stopped outside Hotel Grand. Didn’t expect much. But like most unexpected things in life, it turned out to be fabulous. Never see a bathroom so ‘tasty’

Early morning flight to Leh. 6 o’clock if I’m not mistaken. And like always I wake up late. Priti is angry. She leaves to check out. I run behind apologizing profusely.

Board the plane. Meet Shivi and his gang. Showed some solidarity. We had to. There were about 9 Indians on that flight. There were skiers. There were trekkers. There were snow jumpers. They were foreigners.

Landed in Leh. Awesome airport. George and his team came to pick us up.
Awesome drive. Was told about ‘ACCLAMATIZATION’ by Shivi. Read about ‘ACCLAMATIZATION’ in the airport. Tried to pronounce ‘ACCLAMATIZATION’ couple of times. Landed in hotel. Hit the bed. Woke up chirpy.
ACCLAMATIZED finally!

George told us that we should try the River Rafting. I said Yesss! Yess! YES! Priti wasn’t so sure. Apart from the fact that I did not know who to swim. We have a shoot that we should complete, death by drowning notwithstanding. And Uddhav’s said that I could die by water. Anyways we decided to go. Gopi and Shruti wanted to come along. But their respective Bosses proved to be Level 9 rapids they couldn’t negotiate.

Cut to a day later. 6: 55 am. I’m out in the lawn. All ready to go.
Rajesh had told me a million times, ‘Brij, bus will come sharp at 7: 30. If you’re not there they will go’

Priti peeps down from her room to see me already there. She rubs her eyes and looks again, I’m still there.
She too comes down. It’s 7:25 am
Tick. Tock,
7:30 am.
Tick. Tock.
7:35 am.
Tick. Tock.
I went down to the dining room, joined Shivi for breakfast.
Some toast, omelets and coffee later its 7:45 am.

The bus has shrunk to an Omni. And is still late. I squeeze in, the driver calls me fat once we reach the town corner and shove us inside a bus.

Then we begin to wait… waiting for it to be 12 people strong.
Finally, 2 guys come in.
We’re 12. And we’re off.

A long winding road and about 2 hours later we reach Chilling. Other buses, Omnis etc await us. Get off the bus, try to find a place to pee and fail. So decide to ‘go’ when we hit the rapids.

Grab a life jacket. Put it on. Wrong size. It looked like a bra. Certainly didn’t feel like one.

The group is summoned. Instructions hurled. I listened intently. Probably, the only time in my life. And boy am I glad?

So we were divided into teams of 9 and shoved into the rafts. The guide, called Babu shifted a few seats. ‘Good fo balanse’ he said.

A few dry-runs (no way! cold freezing ones) and off we were. All set to take on a Level 3 rapid. It was the most we had to negotiate on this expedition. We huffed and we puffed and up came the rapid. We huffed and we puffed and before we knew, it knocked out our stuff.

The raft capsized, and like crumbs of bread chucked by little boys, we popped into the river.

I fell off and started to go down.
First thought: Shit! Am too fat for the life jacket to support.
Second thought: Should have listened to Uddhav and Priti and not come
Third Thought: The film won’t be completed.

And suddenly as if these thoughts had not only left my mind but body, thus making me light, I started to rise up.

As I started rising, I was getting ready to see the sky and remember the Nepali guide’s command, 'If you paul, don’t look at pish. Look up at sky’
I kept going up. I kept going up. Only to come face to face with some dark object over me.
It was the raft.
It was upturned.
I was underneath it.
I was going to die.

Started reaching out. Hand went to the side of the raft. Felt the life-line rope on the sides. Grabbed it and slowly slid from beneath the raft to the side. Kept looking up at the sky and not the pish. From the corner of the eye I saw babu standing on top of the upturned raft. He saw me. There’s still chance.

He came across. Thought he was going to pull me up, but instead attached something onto the side of the raft. He asked me to let go. I refused. He gave the strap held in his hand a mighty yank. I lost my grip. The raft turned over upright. I was looking at the sky. Hands beating about for the life-line.
Finally managed to grab hold of it.

This time, no letting go come what may. Babu came over and tried to pull me into the boat. A small puny Nepali boy trying to hoist in a fat, wet mallu (not Shakeela)
It took him 15 deep huffs and 3 tries to finally get me back on board.

So the non-swimmer in the group was the 1st one in.
Slowly the oars came back in.
Followed by shaken and stirred people.

Finally we were all back. And we had more than an hour to row.

This is a Level 3 rapid. We had a couple of Level 2’s.

Everyone was excited. Everyone had been scared. Even those in other rafts. Priti had been swept away. She was one of the last people back.

There was a lot of chatter. And not all emitting from our teeth. A brief while later, Babu tells us proudly, 'I purposely capsize the raft. If no capsize, no fun. No story to tell friends.'

One word for him, Fool!
(That's me trying to squeeze the life out of him)

Wednesday, August 1

I do not know wot to title this post…



Jaywant books North Point (Will explain relevance later)

My postings have become as irregular as the streetlights in the lane leading to my apartment. And since I have acknowledged it in a public forum, I am absolved of all duties towards rectifying the situation. Much like the errant MLA.

Anyways, screw that!

Shit! This has been some month. Really it has.


Lintas India has been bought over by Lowe Worldwide for tons of dollars.


Prem Mehta’s decided to split the spoils between all employees.


The consultants aren’t happy about it.


But I’m not going to write about anything’s that’s not happy. At least not in this post.


So am making the point size small...

Friday was the day.


It was 'OUR GOOD FRIDAY'




Priti was called to receive her cheques.


12 in all.
She came back quietly.
But I thought money talks. And so much money is entitled to a 6 hour speech.

Nikhil was next.
He didn’t come back quietly.
Now money was talking. And how.

Ashwin, Jaywant, Pappu and the rest followed.
Do not know the order in which they went.
Do not care. Now!

I went along with Jaywant.
Entered the board room and was greeted by the ‘happiest-finance-man-giving-money’ ever – Mr. Kabra.


We hugged.
I signed.
12 receipts.
Received 12 cheques.
Lots of money for me.

I came back quietly.

Everyone else was shouting.
Felt like hiring them to shout for me.
Now I could! He! He!

The party began.
The entire team headed to North Point
(The one Jaywant Booked. Smart Boy! Yeh loh 10 lakh inaam…)

It was raining.
It was fun.
It was a lot of money.

Got back.
Got myself a PSP. A digital compact camera.
And now planning to buy a house in Mumbai.


YESS!!!




Wednesday, July 18

What I want to be when I grow up and other stories...

'What do you really want to be when you grow up Brijesh?' i asked myself staring at the foam covered reflection on 'this-is-shaving-day.'
Stared a bit too long so had to shake myself back to real time. (Which reminds me, the newly installed Real Player isn't working. Time to go back to the Old Faithful -- Windows Media Player)

Clean-shaven, in a taxi, on my way to work. Did not indulge in the ritualistic 'doze-till-the-brakes-startle-you.' It kept coming back - What did I want to become when I grow up?
What is the legacy I wanted to leave behind?
Too profound perhaps. Too early, for sure. Too much for me.

Do i want to leave behind numerous betas or DVD's with impeccable transfers of 30,40 and the odd 60 seconders? did i really want that?

or would I settle for unpolished metals adorning some old rickety shelf in a 'bored' room? do i really want this?

maybe i should settle for a suffix that engaged most of the alphabets? VP & ECD? NCD? WWCD? CCO?

i got it. finally. i want to be Md. Khan. (Hell No!) Let me rephrase it.
I want his legacy.
i want to leave behind a legacy like his.
i want what he has achieved.

it is my belief that the only legacy we can truly leave behind in advertising is people. seconds will run out, lalitaji's will die out and most certainly, metals will fade out while people will live out...

i see something like this happen in my very own group. it is simply amazing. i report to a force, yes force, called Priti. Am sure she hasn't set out like the way i intend to (and it has nothing to do with the lack of facial hair and hence a foamed covered face that stares at bathroom mirrors)

she will certainly leave behind a legacy that will outlive her. Her ads. Her metals and definitely the icons she's helped create.

this is it! this is the kind of legacy i want to leave behind.

spoke to friend about it. "Accha hai bhai!" he said. "par pehle kaam toh kar"

the taxi screeched to a halt.
the security guard at the main gate shouted, 'card!'
someone from inside the elevator shouted 'full...next one'

Friday, June 22

no abcds only jpegs

Most of the Cannes contingent must be on their flights home (atleast the one's sent by the agency), so here are a few ads that i wish i had cracked.










Saturday, June 2

Twin icons are gone-- Building to come up on green bench spot

the following piece is an article that appeared on the 1st of June in The Telegraph


THE EMERALD BOWER: The spot where the green benches stood near the back gate of St Xavier’s College. Picture by Pabitra Das


St Xavier’s College will never be the same again. The green benches are gone — and so is Arunda.
On the last day of May, the Park Street campus bid adieu to two of its most endearing symbols — one near the back gate and the other behind the canteen counter.
The green benches bordering the playground — where many Xaverians down the decades have learnt more about life than in the classrooms — have been removed, their place to be taken by a three-storeyed building to improve infrastructure.
And Arabinda Acharya Chowdhury, or rather Arunda — who has treated everyone from Sourav Ganguly to Haridas Pal with similar stern affection — leaves the canteen after 49 years, to rest his ailing heart.
First, let’s pause at the green benches. For the past few years, this has been a no-hangout zone for students, but at least they were there. Not any more. “A building to facilitate activities of the school and college will come up here,” confirmed college principal Father P.C. Mathew.
The space will house quarters for non-teaching staff, a parking lot and a tank for rainwater harvesting.

Arunda, the familiar figure behind the St Xavier’s College canteen counter, will not be at his post from June 1. Picture by Pabitra Das

“The green benches had become a part of the college heritage and their absence could create a vacuum in the hearts of ex-students,” admitted the principal.
That it sure will. “It’s like losing a part of my youth. The green benches meant friendship and adda, the ice-cream man and the pheriwallah... I used to sit on one bench and play the beat on another,” recounts percussionist Bickram Ghosh.
The new building will begin where the green benches used to be and end where 70-year-old Arunda’s domain began.
The Uttarpara boy joined Xaviers as a 22-year-old in the summer of ’59.
The canteen was then called Annapurna All India Food Commission.
At his farewell on Thursday in the college auditorium, an uncharacteristically emotional Arunda recounted “the tough 70s”, the “watershed year of 1979 when the college became co-educational”, the move to make the canteen “a no-smoking zone”, the beginning of “blood donation camps”, the “friendships and the memories”.
Suffering from heart problems with a failing pacemaker and advised bed rest by the doctor, he will not take up his trademark place in the canteen from June 1.
“Sourav Ganguly, Bickram Ghosh, Srikanta Acharya and so many celebrities started their lives from this canteen, but all Xaverians are the same for me. Shobai bhalo, khub bhalo,” said Arunda.
In his last interaction with a room full of Xaverians, he concluded: “Live up to the true spirit of Nihil Ultra and never let your college down.”

Wednesday, May 30

Of a Premiere, payment of dividends and 2 P’s.

What the much touted advertising award factions and their functions ended up doing, an out-and-out Bollywood flick managed to undo.
And that too in style. Must be the CK factor.

Hold on to your tickets, you free-flying, mile-gathering, frequent flyer number touting, MBK shopping types.
It’s not available in stores and the shores of Thailand. Not yet.

I am talking about
Cheeni Kum. Or in keeping with the current trends of alphabet dropping – CK.

CK has got anyone and everyone, even remotely concerned with advertising, flocking to the nearest screen. No debate (at least not before entering). No Goa. No Land’s End lawns. No nothing.

Anyways, the concerned agency management is thankful. Not just to the director and producer of CK, but to every single employee who has taken time out (that is in case he or she hasn’t been invited to the premiere) to go and spend a few hours watching it.
Those few peaceful hours where all questions of the other ‘P’—Payment of Dividends were put to rest.
The corridors were empty, the cabins less smoke filled and the only milega kya? pertained to that extra ticket or invite.

Superb!

This leads us to the 2 P’s I mentioned in the header to this post.

Post CK, my work place has been hit by a tsunami of mass Plotting -- that’s a P.
Yes, plots are being hatched. Movie plots. And that too, one too many. All of which were, till now, i.e. the 25th as dormant as Fiji. There's some defenite movements underground!

The effects need to be seen to be believed.
Take a walk along the corridors and the place once alive with loud music and louder people bear witness only to bodies hunched over their newly acquired or company provided (as the case may be) PowerBooks, MacBooks, Waio’s and Dell’s furiously jabbing away at the keyboard.

A quick peek at a DVD here, a quick read on the net there, an in-depth search on
Wikipedia and back to the almost-choreographed punching of the keyboards.

Why and how so many Powerbooks, MacBooks, Waio’s and Dell’s.
Ignore the why.
And here’s the How -- Personal Loan.

So before the interest rates go up and more importantly my interest to vomit out my idea onto an LCD screen dies out, let me for once answer that pesky voice on the phone with ‘Yes ma'am I’m interested!’

Till then, take care and stay blessed!

Wednesday, May 23

opposites...

Bruce has never surprised me.
My younger brother loves to do things the conventional way.
Which is all the more reason why I am taken aback when he did surprise me some time back.
And that too, by doing the same thing someone else (one who likes to do different things differently) did.
I did mention that I was contemplating on gagging the worm.
Lots of people, rather the few who read it (or so I thought) asked, urged and even threatened me not to do so.
But 2 people surprised me. Heather and Bruce.
I had no clue in the world that they read me blog.
So, needless to say I was pleasantly surprised when both of them wrote in and said I should keep posting, however irregular they might be.
Thank you guys!

''Heather's the most interesting Brit you could meet in India!'
Should I rephrase it H?
Ok, here goes, Heather is the most interesting Brit you could meet.' PERIOD.

She is the most inspiring (ex) suit I've seen in recent years, with a passion and zest for everything she holds dear--- yoga, kick boxing, Hindi tuition, Dirt is Good brand keys, her purple Ambi, tattoos (including the new purple one) and of late Human Resource amongst a whole lot of other things like party, party, party….
She thrives on doing different things differently!
She is F-U-N!

Coming to Bruce.
Had no clue he read my blog.
Had no clue he read at all.
Thank you bro for reading the blog.
and more importantly for posting that comment.
Thank you to all who commented on the same.
The worm shall continue to speak -- Garbled or not.


Who do you write about in a blog?

I am not asking WHAT do you write about, but rather 'WHO?'

  • Do you write about every person you come in contact with?
  • Do you write about your near and dear ones?
  • Do you write about that someone special?
  • Or only about those who read your blog?

The jury is still out on this one.

I for one, do not have or know the answer.

Thursday, April 12

Where r u from back home?

Should I keep at it? Should I quit? Seems to be the two questions that fly out with each imaginary petal from that imaginary sunflower in my imaginary brain!

The question, obviously, pertains to maintaining this blog. I have lots of things to say. Lots more opinions. But I just can't find the time to write.

Maybe one part of the problem is that I do not have something to write on, as and when I feel like. Of course there's the ever-handy napkin with the shoddy imprint of the local bar and a piece of lead, but there are 2 evident problems.

1) Locating the crevice into which I have banished the scrap
2) Keying in the words. (The actual reason!)
3) I don't have a laptop. (Do I need one??)

I hate precis writing. Therefore, nothing pisses me off more than to write a stupid precis on the past happenings. That too all numbered and all. Arrghhh!

Anyways, its that time of the year.
Increments are in. Like always I am happy.
'The trick to keep smiling after receiving the fateful letter,' said a wise old sage, 'is not to expect a raise at all.'
Did really sound absurd when I first heard it. A materialist guy like me, who's out to annul Madam Marcos's record and not think of money??? Impossible, I say.

But tried it some years back and it did work. It really did. So for the 3 people who read this space, try doing this (That is if you are the materialistic kind and dreaming of getting away from the drudgery of middle class existence in a Getz!). IT WORKS!

Cast away all fears and doubts regarding this theory, if any, 'coz it is said and written, 'the worm knows everything!'

Did a small promo with a director who I'd been wanting to work with for some time. The film's finally through. Have challenged a few decisions and gone with what I believe in. Hope it works, lest am dead meat!

Post the shoot, Vinyl (WILL SPELL HIS NAME THIS WAY ONLY!), Shaanu (The DOP aka the cameraman) and me were thulping the prawns gassi and surmai fry at Soul Fry when the conversational steered itself and we found ourselves right on the fringes of every Malayalee's favourite conversation topic--- Naatil veedu evide aa? (Where you from, back home in Kerala?)

Sniffing blood (Or should I say 'stale pomfret') we divided right in. After the first round, Vinyl was ousted. He wasn't from the region. 1/3 still doesn’t hold majority. Even in Kerala.

So, 2/3 rd's of the table took it upon themselves to carry it onto the next round. Calimari breaks included.

The battle was heating up. He knew every place I mentioned. I had heard of every corner he mentioned. (Thank you Mummy for those long boring family history episodes --- Kuduma Mahima. Sounds cooler doesn’t it)

Now we were on cruise control. Two dudes in colourful lungi's cruising the same valleys, roads, turns, on our Yezdi's. The ride was getting interesting. Till he jammed the brakes. The juggernaut came to a halt.

Camera pans left to reveal my mom's family home.
I say, 'Ithu…" (A quiver in my voice!)
He says, 'Ithu…" (Nonchalance in his!)

'Ithu enthe kudumba veedu aanu!' We bellowed in unison. Triumphantly we kicked up our legs, caught the fluttering end of the lungi and entangled it around our waists, lest it would unfurl again and let it in more of the family secrets.
We were related.
This has never ever happened to me.
I found it bizarre.
He found it strange. (Or maybe he found me strange!)
Couldn't see through his face as much of it was smeared with surmai gravy.

But jokes apart. It was bizarre. It was crazy.
Met a relative.
Ate a surmai.
I didn't have to pay the bill.

Tuesday, March 13

Talk to me...

I still envy the girl. She still manages to post regularly. Be calm my heart. It's got to do with no pujas in the temple. But her latest post on Anu's marriage did warm my heart. Felt kind of bad that I missed Anu's wedding. Dude! You were not invited! So relax!

So lets' talk about my favorite topic -- ME!

Have been edgy of late. Not told this to many though. So finding it difficult to suppress it in my gut.

This is not me!

I do not remember the last time I was so unsure about life. Or rather my professional life.

Too many options. Or too few. What seemed like the crossroads has morphed into a roadblock. And being the selfish human that I am, have started calling out to the Gods.

They did hear my all this while. But maybe too are tired of my selfish prayers and me.

This mad race to meet EMI deadlines is screwing it up for everyone. Me for sure.

And the best part being that all these situations have been created by, yours truly. So why am I bickering? Can't I be half the man I claim to be and face it.

Honestly, the answer is a big vehement NO! I like life easy. As easy as I've had it till here. Don’t like to be pushed into a corner. I like to be in control. Probably this explains the blog. No talking back. No arguing. Just a passive receptor. Wowie!

I do not like taking the tough calls. Especially if it involves and affects me. Would rather lie low and let it pass. Guess all the passing has been done and the ball's landed back at my feet.

I can either give it that crafty kick or let is roll over the sidelines.

Passing is no longer an option.

What do I do?

Guess I wont be getting any answers from here.

I've designed it that way, right? Passive receptor.

For once blog… talk to me…

Sunday, February 25

Here goes...

As I sit down, for a second time, (will come to that in a bit) to update my blog, strangely I do not feel the same as I did the first time around.

I was feeling guilty then. Probably am still feeling it but it has been categorically shifted to the latter rows.
What I am right now, at 2.07 AM is JEALOUS.
Yup, strange as it may sound. I am not guilty, I am jealous.

Jealous of 2 girls or should I saw women. Appu and Sue.

They do everything that I do. Work. Eat. Sleep. And yet find the time and the drive to update their blogs regularly. I feel like a piece of shit!

So here goes.

THINGS YOU MISSED


AJ moving to Leo Burnett (Guess you know that by now)
The December Syndrome -- Innumerable ideas being generated.
Ducking the ‘its been done before’ bullets
Executing those that haven’t been executed by the ‘corridor juries’
Releasing the executed ones.
Big B bouncing everything I liked. (And I like only my work!)
Calling Big B names.
Getting intimidated by Big B’s name.
Appu, finally giving job interviews. Client servicing ones.
Appu finally signing up.
Appu finally happy.
Appu stopping those calls.
Sue still staying gorgeous and genuine.
Chidu liking a girl.
The girl liking Chidu.
Chidu getting engaged. (To the same girl)
Cocoa growing up and being a handful.
Clearing most debts.
*Most debts.
Shooting a nice commercial.
Going to Bangkok for the presentation.
Client approving the film with some minor changes.
Getting a new tattoo.
Getting old tattoo/ink blotch touched up.
Clicking pictures of tattoos and sending it to only the chicks.
Chicks commenting on the tattoos with a never-heard-before-in-my-lifetime ‘sexy’
*was for the tattoos.
Andy highlighting the absence of new posts.
Client not approving those changes.
Client not approving the ‘already approved’ film.
Client wanting more changes.
Tattoos heal.
Client inflicting more wounds.
Appu highlighting the absence of new posts.
Appu still not calling as frequently.
Appu highlighting the absence of new posts.
Me visiting Appu’s and Sue’s blog
Me writing a post…

THINGS I MISSED

The Roger Waters Show
Chidu’s engagement.
The Roger Waters Show
Home food (does this qualify?)
The Roger Waters Show
Appu’s calls
The Roger Waters Show
The December Syndrome

Did go thru this excercise once before as well. but sadly some issue and the whole thing got deleted.

Wednesday, February 7

sorry blog

my sincerest apologies to the 2 people who read this blog ardently.
It surely has been a while since I have decorated with new writings.
It's not that I have nothing to pen down... but will do so soon.
Me
from Vijay Cine Sound
6th Feb, 2007
1.12 a.m.

Thursday, January 11

Cause my bags are packed … by Vinay Kanchan

The notice period - commonly identified as that periodic reference from the time an employee expresses his desire to move onto bigger designations, better remuneration schemes, faster computers, enhanced prospects of attractive coworkers or quite simply a better window seat, to the actual moment that he exits the office edifice. But there is a lot more that transpires during this transition that is usually glossed over. For this is probably the only period that employees actually enjoy the rare freedom of expressing their 'brutally frank' opinions without fear of their ramifications.

"One who hands in his slip, will henceforth act as captain of the ship," the hushed oriental accent, the express delivery of the tea cup and Chai-La (the mystical Chinese tea boy) had disintegrated into the door knob of Vikas's cabin, leaving Ram baffled as usual about the early morning sermon.

Vikas, stormed out of his cabin, and headed off to smoke, clearly sporting (if that's the right word) the kind of look someone would have if they had run into something very unexpected, very unpleasant and rather sharp.

Karan strolled out with the air of a man who had just won the lottery. There was a song on his lips that he was humming rather tunelessly, almost on purpose. Karan was also an Account Executive like Ram. Extremely shy and reserved at most times, terrified of Vikas at others, and unanimously the butt of all jokes emanating from the creative department all through the day.But today, almost mysteriously, there was an air of supreme confidence about him.

"I have quit man!' he said thumping Ram of the back with unwarranted enthusiasm, "going to another agency at a much better salary and getting a promotion as well."

"Hey, that's really nice. How long is your notice period?"

"Just about long enough to make the losers here rue their existence." He chuckled with sinister intent and strode off to flirt with some girls from the creative department, in whose direction he would scarcely have dared to breathe earlier.

Vikas returned, ashen faced, "we need to get a handover from Karan, he is going and things should continue to be in control even on his accounts," then like a bad memory leaping to catch up with the mood of things he digressed, "he called me a pompous ass, do you think I am a pompous ass?" Ram choked on his tea, expertly disguising the triumphant chuckle.

"No certainly not." He replied keeping his straightest face possible, an exercise that was proving to be immensely painful.

"Ok call the others in the conference room, get both the creative and media as well, lets take stock of the business."

An hour later PP (the creative director of the exaggerated moustache fame), Tanya (the 'south Mumbai' copywriter), Mumbles (the reticent art director) and Planimus (the gladiatorial media planning head) joined Vikas and Ram in the conference room.

"Ok why are we here? And who are we waiting for?" boomed PP in his customary 'louder than life' style.

"We are waiting for Karan to discuss the status on his account," began a strangely subdued Vikas, "and here he is."

Karan had entered the room with a saunter that would have done a hormonically challenged male puma proud.

"That's what you have always been good at Vikas. Stating the blinding obvious," he began with the urgency of a pinch hitter going for it.PP exploded into peals of laughter, and kept ferociously drumming the table with his excessively large palms, generally causing the concerned carpenter stress wherever he would have been.

"And for that matter, PP, all your work is pretentious and largely passé. I yawned all through the last TV commercial you created, only the last bit woke me up and that was the logo," remarked Karan, enticing a lightning quick culmination of all mirth on the PP front. PP sat silent and stunned, almost like someone had jabbed him in the solar plexus.

Vikas, historically it must be said, for the one and only time in his career almost felt a pang of sympathy for his old foe.

Ram had begun to imagine the whole meeting as a video game in which Karan was the Terminator.

"What's wrong with you Karan, you silly boy?" cooed Tanya in an almost suicidal manner (in Ram's gaming theory) and the Terminator struck.

"Lets start with what's right with you Tanya, and my guess is that you would struggle to fill up the back of a bus ticket in bold on that front. Or have you ever even traveled in public transport to know the enormity of the insult that you have just endured?" Karan almost was basking in his own eloquence at this point.

Planimus rose from his table to begin to speak, 'fatal error' thought Ram. He was composing in his mind the choicest insults that he could gather at such short notice, and was about to unleash them when the Terminator beat him to the draw.

"And you, Planimus have perfected a unique art," began Karan and paused.Planimus was so taken aback that some kind words might actually flow his way; that he completely lost the momentum of the thing.

"The art of taking something utterly simple and making it mind bogglingly complicated," completed Karan with a sardonic smile. 'Hell, he is playing with his kill,' thought Ram to himself.

An uneasy silence followed, as the various participants were busy tending to their battered egos. At that moment the President chose to pop his head in, in his normal cherubic manner. 'Jackpot?' thought Ram.

"I say Karan what makes you leave?" asked the President, as there was an inward groan in the entire room.

"Many things, but mostly you. I am almost tempted to tell the client in what poor hands their account is. Be it your directionless leadership, your confused values, your limited understanding of a subject called advertising, Your sycophantic culture that is now festering within the confines of these walls, your fixation with skirts, I could go on but I think more important things like lunch beckon," concluded Karan with smug satisfaction and strolled out of the room with purposeful poise.

The President flopped into a chair, and looked at the ashen faces around him."What…what was that?" he asked, still unable to string thoughts coherently."The Notice Period Syndrome," answered Planimus with an all-knowing sign, the others were still missing any sensation in their extremities.

"Lunch anyone?" asked the President, and all the others trailed out of the room, leaving Ram to clear the aftermath as usual.


"Get him out as fast as is humanly possible, settle his dues, and give him what he wants, just get him out. I don't want the others following his example," Ram heard the President tell Vikas as they walked towards life, sustenance and people who would say more pleasant things about them.

Ram just closed his eyes for a moment to shut his mental video game, when he felt the tea cup in his fingers again and the oriental drawl whisper in his ears, "The only one in an office who is brave, is one who is leaving for another job or the grave," for once it made sense.

Ram opened his eyes just in time to see Chai-La vanish with an air of resignation.

The writer is Vice President, Rediffusion DY&R. He is also the patron saint of Juhu Beach United, a football club that celebrates the 'unfit, out of breath media professional of today'. You can write to him at (vinaykanchan@hotmail.com).

(The views expressed here are those of the author and Indiantelevision.com need not necessarily subscribe to the same)

Thursday, January 4

Retirement

(No pre-mumble. Straight to the point)

SOMEBODY PLEASE RETIRE THESE IDEAS :-

1. Before after ads in any, I repeat ANY form.
2. People/birds/animals/insects with injuries due to strong wood/cement/clear glass or any such foolish thing
3. Teeth as light (in any form)
4. Objects cropped and treated to look like something else namely coffee mug handles looking like bags
5. Obscure things forming the McDonald's 'M'
6. Birds and placards sitting on thin air -- wireless
7. Tired toys, parents, neighbours and audiences thanks to energized kids
8. Butt, denims and anything under the sun forming the WWW in urls.
9. SPIDERMAN
10. SUPERMAN
11. BATMAN
12. TARZAN
13. PHANTOM
14. HULK
15. CATWOMAN
16. ROBIN
17. MANDRAKE
18. Pls spare us…please…
19. Tweaked movie posters and book covers
20. Inanimate objects squirming owing to body odour/bad breath
21. LABELS FALLING OFF BOTTLES OF DIET/FITNESS PRODUCTS
22. Deodorant cans, handbrakes and anything elongated made to take the phallic shape
23. Slim TVs
24. Short Film Festivals
25. Uncle Sam (in any avtaar)
26. Mouse pointers taking any shape.
27. Cat licking something, someone coz milk's an ingredient in something
28. Having to turn page upside down for the idea to jump out and startle you!
29. Those illusion circles
30. Come to think of it… any optical illusion
31. Replacements e.g Orange drink bottle in a case for Oranges or vice versa. (u know what I'm talking about here!)
32. Sharp knives cutting through anything
33. Save the tiger
34. Animals, birds, mammals in the city thanks to us taking away their homes.
35. Centre spread ads without and staple pins
36. IN - OUT (shud definitely be out!)
37. Lips, eyes and millions of other things forming the vagina
38. Tattoos, Jesus, Elvis, dogs slipping off 'coz they can't handle the vehicles speed.

This could be a start!