the worm speaks

1000 words and more

2010-07-05T22:00:00.012+05:30

this is bruce's little darling - rheanna liz jacob.

and it's her baptism. 99.76% kids cry while being

baptised but not her. she's tougher than that!

this is smools aka moolson aka mools's little hero. and like only mools can, days and nights were spent thinking of a unique name for him. and they named him Advit.

(hope I got the spelling right)

and considering I missed the naming-ceremony,

mools will only have one thing to say, "Choot, if you wanted to know his name, you should have come no!

i have moved apartments. from the awesome 1 bhk to a 2 bhk. but i did not know it would be so difficult setting up a place. both in terms of choosing the right furniture to deciding 'how-much-to-pay-furniture-that-will-be-used-

in-a-rented-apartment' the previous place was fully-furnished, I just had to bring in the white goods. so here I am with the white goods but not too sure of dark-brown furniture or not. the tata-sky has not been set up, nor the internet connection (tata photon ki jai!) I was in Bangalore, came back and shacked up with Chidu for a week and which is why this pic. 'Coz on our way back home, one night, we called up Vicky, who like the cops, was late to arrive on the scene, so we did not meet him.

The non-activation of the cables connection is the 2nd reason why I land up watching all the games with the boys. The prime reason being - it is more fun than any stadium.

(maybe, I should make a mention of the original plan - sids, vinnie, their wives and me were to head to South Africa.)

Well, this ain't South Africa, this is Vaibhav's place and Jiggy's white Armani Xchange shades!

how do they do it?

2010-07-05T10:42:00.002+05:30

they are on facebook as much as me, some even more than me.

they are on email.

on chat. both gtalk as well as skype.

on twitter as well...

how the hell do the find the motivation to update their blogs regularly?

and not just one blog...

one for their kids...

one for their hobbies...

one for a few bucks...

one for their passions...

and what the hell, one, under an alias...

starting today, i will try my best to take out 10 minutes and post regularly...

honestly, it is not because an un-updated blog reflects lack of commitment, or a writer's block or something...

just that some very pretty people have told me that i should continue with this as it is fun read.

if it's fun for them, it sure is fun for me!

yeah! am back!

Report

2009-04-29T13:04:00.008+05:30

I hate doing this, but owing to sheer laziness have had to settle for this. What the first line means is a series of points that list down what's been going on for the first 4 months.

Finally a New year's resolution I have kept. Have done something which I never thought I would do -- have my own advertising agency.
And that too not one, but two. So born on the 9th of Jan was White Canvas Mumbai and a few weeks later 22feet.
White Canvas will be the regular advertising agency.
22feet will be a digital agency.
Mools and Deepak will be the other pillars keeping the dreams above sea-level.

To sum up, 2 agencies, 2 branches- Mumbai and Bangalore, 3 friends.

The office space in Mumbai overlooks the Mahalaxmi Race Course. Have watched a few races as well. The interiors are designed by Vishal. It's funky. It's us.

This made it, 2 cool offices. The Bangalore one has collected it's share of praises both on and off facebook.

The white Canvas appraisals (yes, we are serious about this kind of stuff) was held yet again in Goa and was fun.

Met some of my old clients. Met some new ones. Anyways, got a few retainer clients. a few more project based work and a a few pitches. Offline work looks good . Online even better.

Sorry, missed out the logic behind 22feet.
It is not the length of the cricket pitch- that's 22yards
It's not 22inches, that's the length of my.... tongue, 5 times over...
It is the average length of the human small intestine. Also referred to as the gut.
So, it's all about gut feel.
The small intestine also is responsible for digestion, food and all that.
So, it's also got to do with hunger -- hunger for work.

Now that's cool.

White Canvas. Now that's simple and needs no explanation.
In case you do, please click on the logo.

Now comes the house warming. The house I picked up in Bangalore was finally ready to move in. Vinnie's at 305, us at 304.
The interior work got over as soon as the bank balance did.
So the next logical step was the house warming.
More people came than expected.
Surprisingly, even those who were expected, did also turn up.
Nice!

Haircut, anyone?

2009-01-03T09:58:00.003+05:30

Calendars, diaries, pen stands, car stickers, innumerable text message all scream out one thing - 2009, is here.

Decided to stay in this year. As if I paint the town red otherwise. Cannot believe that its been 12 months since I went to Jindal. And like a boomerang, the lost kilos have come back. To stay.

Coming to this year. Sid wanted to go to Sri Lanka, I had no inclination. Neta was away in London so no threat from there. Vivek wanted to go out and kick some ass with his wife. Wanna know what he wants to do next year when the marriage is more than a year old. Chandru called, he too wanted to chill.

Sri Lankan altered to Goa for Sid, Neta landed in time with his wife from London and headed to Goa, no news of kick-assing Vivek.

So Chandru and me decided to take it easy.

No house-parties. No club parties. No beaches. Just treat it like any other night.

The hairy beast was in his elements. He cajoled and coaxed and I found myself inside Screen 1 at Big Cinemas, Wadala (yes, it's no longer IMAX) standing up to the National Anthem and preparing to watch the Hindi version of Ghajini. It was 9:30 pm.

We weren't the only ones who had decided to take it easy. Indeed, there is safety in numbers.

Liked the ending of the Hindi version better than the Tamil one. Asin is as irritating as she was in the Tamil one. Yes, I know she is a big star and all, I have shot with her, but somehow she does not come across as natural. There is so much effort that comes across looking fake. If you do not understand what it is that I am talking about, please refer to Genelia D'Souza in Jaane Tu....

Anyways, movie over. Back home. More chatting. More Pirates of the Caribbean... followed by some sound sleep...

Wanted to start off the new year by doing something different. Sat and thought. What it is that I haven't done in life. Bungee jumping, sky diving, swimming the list was long and endless.
But what it is that I can do, sitting at home, with the hairybeast for company...hmmm...

Eureka (sans the bath tub but fully clothed) I got it. Change the name. No longer will he be known as the HairyBeast.

Happy New Year everyone.
This year, I aim is to do some things I have never done in my life.
Cheers!

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T00:22:00.005+05:30

With a special talent that did not confine itself to the boundaries of tempo, tune, beat and anything remotely musical, I was spared the task of joining the Mar Thoma Syrian Church, choir.
This was the first chapter of the book titled. 'Lack of talent can be a blessing. For you and others.'

This meant that Bruce and I had to play other roles. And there is no better time than December to put your kid through these testing times. Honestly, I loved it. At least back then, I did.

And for once I knew something by heart. The flow of events during the Christmas Eve celebrations.

Carols in English by the choir.
Carols in Malayalam by the choir.
Sermon
Carols in English by little ones.
Carols in Malayalam by the little ones.
Enactment of the Nativity scene.
Carols in English by the elders.
Carols in Malayalam by the elders.
Cake distribution.

For 1-5, 7-9, the odds of me and Bruce making it were quite similar to the ones Dravid had of making it to the one-day team.

No. 6 could surely accommodate us.

Joseph - Possible.
Mary - Not Possible. There were pretty girls and that too many in number.
Baby Jesus - Not possible. Too heavy for one of the pretty girls to lift.
A doll from one of them would be more apt. And they know their dolls.
Animals in the manger - Possible.
3 wise men - Quite Possible.

Really did not know or was bothered to find out how these roles were assigned.
Had to get through it, quick and easy.

Joseph was chosen, excited kid smiled.
Mary was chosen, excited girl smiles, some twitch their lips, as only little girls can, some boys who could pass of as the former breathed a sigh of relief.
Mary got the doll, quite right I would say, mother brings her kid.
The animals were chosen - was still not there.
One wise man -some kid
Two wise man - bruce.
Third wise man - brijesh

See Papa, 'wise man'

Action.
Start walking the entire length of the church till you reach the front.
The rest are already there, in their positions playing a game of 'mental statue'
Join in, offer the gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Say 'statue' in your head and pose.

Choir sings.
Some enthusiastic uncle and aunty join in.
They sing better than some in the choir, who glare at them from behind song sheets.

Some more songs. Ends with a Jingle Bell... each bell jingling in a different manner, depending on who is rendering it.

The uncle who has to rush out for a smoke has already reached the , " ... in a one horse open sleigh..."

The Malayalam speaking ones did not proceed beyond, "jingle bells..."

The boyfriend in the choir or the girlfriend in the congregation or vice versa, while standing on their toes and arching their necks, emphasised on, " oh what fun it is to ride..."

While fools like us, wanted to get out of our sarees that was deftly modified into a robe. Get home quickly and have the awesome palappam and chicken stew.

Merry Christmas!

yeh school hai kya?

2008-12-20T12:48:00.002+05:30

Class 6A - Mrs. Kallur

Class 5A - Mrs. Wesley

Class 4A - Mrs. Pinto

Class 3A - Mrs. Rozario

Class 2A - Mrs. Lobo

Search

2008-12-15T14:15:00.005+05:30

Happened to be at Bombay Central railway station. Been so long since I've been to one. Nikunj, aka Chotu, my childhood friend from from the 'area' was down and after a week was heading to Delhi. Rajdhani jaane ke liye, Rajdhani Express.
LED displays, McDonald's, fast food counters but yet nothing had changed.
The mad rush to check the reservation charts, even though, unlike us, most had confirmed tickets. The, "where's A4?" "B8 aage hai?" "Excuse me, yeh Dilli jayegi?"
I kind of liked it. Reminded me of summer vacation. Calcutta to Kerala. Checking on lists to see where, if any, the girls are. How far away was that F15 or F17. And also how far away was the M45 and F43 that accompanied these F15's and 17's were.
The Wheeler & Co. book stall was still there. Paid my tribute, bought some magazines.

But the most disturbing factor was the security or rather the lack of it. Have we already forgotten? Settled back into our miserable lives?

Yes, as soon as you walk in through the main gate you meet the men and a woman in khaki. Seated on red coloured benches lest you miss them.
They watch you, give you a look-over, make some assessments in their heads and then either summon you for a check or let you be.

Held one of chotu's black bags (do most of also feel that bombs are placed in black bags, or is it only me?) and strutted past them. Could see one of them checking me out, waited for him to call me and get on with his routine. But no such luck.

As we had some time to kill, decided to stand near the security desk. And saw one act which made my blood boil. Just wish I had the power to go and sack the policeman.

He had called out to an individual who came and placed his bag on the table in front of the policeman or CRPF personnel. The fool doesn't even bother getting up, painfully stretches out his arm and place it on top of the bag. He then begins to feel it from top. Donno whether he was fantasizing, and for once, even if he were, would like to know. Just that i want to know what are these guys thinking.
He gives it a quick 360 degree feel-up and waves and 'ok'.

I was just standing there watching this in disbelief.

But not all's lost.

there were others to his right who had asked the passengers to open their luggage. They then either took a peek inside, or shoved their hands in and played the 'let-me-guess-if-I-am- touching-a-bomb' game.
No metal detectors. No sniffers dogs. No frisking. No whatever it is that we do in this country in the name of security measures.

Of course there was a black Labrador, who was being taken on a stroll by his handler along one of the platforms. But the only thing he was asked to sniff were the wheels of carts and light poles.

I've always wanted to ask a few questions to every security personnel I have come across, in offices, residential buildings, airports, hotels etc...

a) what is it that you are 'looking' or 'feeling' for?
b) since you are only taking a look, how does a bomb look like?
c) why do I have to not take my bag along with me under the metal detector and then have it opened and checked once again after I have passed the detector?

Probably the dumbest question ever asked...

2008-12-02T02:21:00.003+05:30

Its late at night.

A day or two after the attacks.

Set in front of the Gateway, with the Taj Mahal Hotel, Mumbai or whatever remains as background.

Scene opens on Barkha Dutt talking about the death of Sabina Sehgal Saikia, senior journalist of The TOI.

She's on the phone with one of Sabina's closest friend who along with her husband and couple of freinds had dinner with Sabina the previous night and was in her room at the Taj till about 6:30 pm on the day of the attacks.

At first Barkha asks the routine questions before letting go of the big one...

Barkha: "... so, did you at any point think, when you left her room at 6:30 pm, that you would be seeing Sabina for the last time?"

Ms. Dutt, pray tell me, if she or any other sane human being, did know that they would meet someone for the last time, wouldn't they, unless ofcourse they were Judas or did feel what our forces felt for you during Kargil, try and get them out of the situation? OR IS IT JUST ME???

Yeh School Hai Kya?

What is the spirit of Mumbai?

2008-11-30T14:36:00.004+05:30

Started off thinking of not titling this post. But finally decided agaisnt it.

I feel like personally going and slapping each and every single person who utters the words, "Spirit of Mumbai"

I want them to define this spirit of Mumbai.

Is it people refusing to stay at home the very next day after an event like this?

Them rushing towards the nearest local train station or bus stop, wanting to reach their offices and sign the muster before the 'late-entry' is marked?

Or is it the apathy that allows us to carry on with life as if nothing has happened or better still, thank god, nothing has happened to me or people I know, so screw the rest. When it happens, we'll see.

I do not think Mumbai has any spirit that needs to be celebrated.

It is plain and simple FEAR.

Fear that if they do not reach work the next day, a day's pay or leave will be deducted.

If they do not reach on time, half a day's pay or leave would be taken away.

If at all this is the spirit of Mumbai, why does it only show itself during terror strikes and not during day-to-day living?

If this indeed is the real thing, why don't we see people filling up train compartemnts, bus stops, crowding near elevators whenever a bundh has been called?

Why isn't there any display of this 'we will not stay down'?

Any living person. no matter what his beliefs are, even a city or a nation has only one spirit. You can't have one for terror attacks and one for other occasions.

So i guess it isn't spirit after all.

It is an HR Manager or Admin Head.

Normally we get a heads up when it comes to bundhs, which is more than enough time for those mails to be floating around saying, "Although tomorrow is not an official holiday, we would suggest you stay at home and do not venture out. Also, no pay nor leave will be deducted."

Phew! that takes care of that.

And in offices where there is no intra mail, it generally is a memo that a peon happily passes around, which every employee reads and readily signs off.

Would really like to see a situation where we got a heads up on attacks and similar mails or memos were passed around.

Till then, it is a case of the flesh is willing (to stay at home) but the spirit is weak.

* I have never been a fan of hers. But simply loved her and her opinions. Watch on...

It will not happen to me...

2008-11-30T14:32:00.002+05:30

These are the exact words, that resonate in my cranium whenever there were attacks of any kind, in Mumbai or elsewhere.

I need not worry about that serial blast. I was safe as I do not take the train or the bus.

The taxi, yes. The auto, sometimes. But I ask the taxi driver, “Dickki check kiya na?”

I have ticked one of the few boxes in my own mental security sheet.

Conveniently though, never thought about my work place or my residential space being targeted.

But the attacks on the 26th of November were different. Not just because it wasn’t yet another of those serial blasts or human bombs or anything that we had been exposed to.

But because it proved without the shadow of a doubt that it is not just the common man who is a potential target. The rich, the powerful, the ‘it will not happen to me’ kinds as well. Which included me.

Never watched as much News in my entire life as I did in the past few days. Did not itch to check out what’s going on in sports or Nat Geo or any music channel. They had me and an entire nation transfixed. They even had the firang media interested as well. The CNN’s and BBC’s of the world did cover it in depth. They had to after all it wasn’t just another case of brown skins killing one another. The white skins were affected as well.

I do not feel like blaming anyone. Seriously I am appalled but think it’s my fault as much as anyone else’s.

Yes, I get angry when they want to frisk me at movie theatres.

Yes, I get angry when they want to open my knapsack at malls.

Yes, it irritates me to walk through those metal detector doors. And the beeps just add to my irritation.

I’m in no mood for an argument, so will not react to those who say, “Even if I do comply, they do such a shoddy job of it anyways!”

All I am saying is that why don’t we insist on them checking us thoroughly instead of having that look in our eyes or let our raised eyebrows spell each and every alphabet in, “Fool, you think I will be carrying a bomb? I will be??”

why?

2008-11-27T22:54:00.003+05:30

Why is a rich man always framed in a rape case, while a commoner 'surely must have done it'?

Why do we drop someone whenever we give them a lift?

Why do we have minutes of a meeting that has lasted for a few seconds?

Why do we want to wear full pants when you're 10 and shorts when you are 70?

Why is it a problem when the rubber solution is spilt?

Why is my phone always inferior to the iphone?

Why don't we get a chance to use logarithmic tables in day-to-day life?

the big fat Arya Samaj wedding

2008-11-27T22:40:00.005+05:30

If a picture is worth a thousand words, here are a few pages as to why I haven't been around to write.

Vivek Iyer wed Michelle Swamy on the 17th of November, 2008 and then again on the 22nd. (Sorry brother, did not carry my camera!)

Vineet Gupta wed Apsara Chidambaram on the 23rd of November, 2008.

clicks

2008-10-30T19:42:00.005+05:30

mumbai

mumbai

mumbai

lowe, mumbai

moonar, kerala

moonar, kerala

SJR, Sarjapur, Bengaluru

Bengaluru

A-401, Redwoods, Mumbai

Kerala

Moonar, kerala

Drona mana hai!

2008-10-08T17:28:00.006+05:30

'Drona zaroori hai, bro,' mused Goldie to AB jr who was busy trying to obtain the ultimate trim on his ultimate beard. '...For both our careers, bro..."
"Careers? What's that bro?" inquired AB jr as he rubbed the apricot scrub on his nose. (Should that be, 'scrubbed the apricot scrub?')
The story-teller in Goldie awakens as he attempts a 'jao pehle uska sign lekar aao' type delivery, "Arrey bro, it's the same thing Amitabh uncle and Jaya aunty had. The same thing that has ensured everyone knows that your surname has a 'chch' in its spelling. The same thing that has got this ice maiden to wrap up around your arms. The same thing because of which I have made you my best friend. The same thing because of whi..."
"Bas..bas...bas.. bro... " AB jr. taps out and gives in, "...take a chill-pill... ok.. lets do it..."

Determined, they set out to the nearest DVD library and issue copies of Harry Porter, Lord of the Rings, Matrix and Abhay. (Worm's Refresher Course (WRC)- Abhay aka Aalavandhan in Tamil. Probably the worst movie ever made in Indian cinema history. And the only movie I have walked out of.)

Supplier's list;
Beginning supplied by: Harry.
Action supplier: Matrix.
Magical props supplier, including rings, bracelets, Gondolf-like wigs and swords: The Lord.

Abhay was rented out just for kicks. To figure out the scope for improvement wherein the title for the worst Indian film could change heads and rest on theirs.

I am upset because;
- the sword made an appearance so late in the movie.
-there was a mistake in the credits. Under Guest appearance instead of - Drona ka Talwar, it read Jaya Bachchan (notice the 'chch' in the spelling).
-Being a Malayalee, I was disappointed to see that the 'kaada' the Hindi speaking English nun was referring to was a wrist band/bangle which was his source of power and not the 'thattu-kada' (meaning shop where you get amazing porota-curry) which resulted in his powers.

this is my problem vol.1

2008-10-06T00:11:00.003+05:30

This volume will hopefully kick off a series that talks about certain innovations that I have no idea why someone has come up with and moreover how someone else has approved.
All of these are either plain and simple annoying or just don't make any sense.

Volume 1 throws light on the 1/4 page or quarter page or tissue-paper-like-but-with-ad-on-it newspaper innovation.
It is that irritating little part that hangs out flaccidly from the front page of a newspaper, posing as some innovation.

Just how do you take control of it?

According to me there are two prominent ways in which people read the newspaper
a)They hold it up in front of their faces, in their living rooms, dining tables, back seats of cars etc etc.
b)When on the throne.

At first I did read whatever it was that was smeared across it but as soon as i moved on to the(actual) front page, there it would go, like the ears of a cocker spaniel.

Thought ignoring would help. Generally if you ignore something it does not come back, unless of course it happens to be a credit card payment or this tumor-like appendage hanging from the newsprint.

It is clumsy, irritating, not memorable at all -- will dare anyone to recall an ad they saw on that tissue-strip...

Here's a suggestion.
Run the ad.
Run the innovation.
Please just perforate it at the fold.
We could rip it and use it as tissue.
Howzatt???

So here's to less use of tissue paper, more tress, a greener environment and a peaceful time on the throne.

WARNING: Download in progress do not turn page...

What is he/she thinking #2

2008-09-22T01:39:00.003+05:30

I think I speak for most of us who have ever or once harboured the dream of becoming an MBA, when I say, we should probe into this person's mind as a service to all students and of late, to society as well.

The 2nd guy inside whose head I would like to enter and figure out why he does what he does is out very own Tooth Fairy. Prof. Arindam Chaudhuri of the Dare to Dream beyond IIM fame.

Please do click on his name and check out his website. Do not go through the entire site if you don't have the time or bandwidth (I mean internet) just see the home page. See his many sides, ties and teeth.

He too, much like the Reddy guy peeps out from a corner in a full page ad that has every cubic centimeter daring us to dream beyond IIM's.

Prof., if I may ask, why should I dare to dream beyond IIM. Most MBA aspirants have already begun looking beyond the IIM's and set their hopes on more palatable choices like IIPM etc. OOPS... now I get it...what you did mean was, " Sun bete, IIM toh tere se hoga nahin, toh chup chaap apni aukaad dekh ke koi collge mein bharti le le..."

Now that I think I have figured that part out lets move on to the one of many links on his website -- Movies.
Isn't he the same guy who went about beating his chest or chattering his teeth that there was a formula to make a hit Hindi movie and he has applied it to the eventual 3 hours of rubbish.

...to be continued....

P.E.O.P.L.E.

2008-09-22T01:16:00.003+05:30

Any place without the people is just a structure with four walls.
This explains the period after each alphabet in the title.
Each is important.
And this was proved beyond a shadow of a doubt last Friday, the 19th of September, 2008.
Panna, as Nagesh is fondly called has started this once-in-two-months ex-Lowe employee meet. Ok! Ok! We do not take the 'ex-Lowe employee' criteria pretty seriously.
This is an occasion for people who have been in the agency and are in the agency to meet, greet, seat, eat and ask for repeat.
Missed the first two editions. Am glad I could make it for the third. It was just mind-blowing.
The same old jokes. The same old ganging up. The same old madness.
I am pretty sure if the very same bunch had been working for LIC, these re-unions would have been as crazy and fun.
Which is why it baffles me when companies try to 'manufacture' happy-employees and fail. The pool tables, carrom boards, group picnics, floor picnics, coffee tables, movies clubs and god only knows what else is good but the answer is simple. Hire people who are themsleves happy, to start off with, they in turn will spread happiness and voila! you are in Wonderland.
(And if you are lucky, even Alice will be there too!)

What is he/she thinking #1

2008-09-14T12:51:00.005+05:30

Am sure there have been times when most of us have wondered why an individual is behaving in a particular manner. I often do, ( and am sure others do the same about me), which is why I wish I could get inside their heads and figure out exactly what it is the person is thinking at the moment to be doing whatever it is that he/she is doing.

The 1st guy inside whose head I would like to enter and figure out is our very own Thumbelina. The Reddy guy of the numerous thumbs up and Country Club fame.

What ticks him?
Why the thumbs up?

Recently saw an ad where he's in an open top jeep, travels from left of screen to right, looking into camera, sunglasses, hat et al with his thumb sticking up.

He came.
He showed.
He left.

If you haven't yet come across him,watch this...

Watch this space for more inside the head trips!!!

Aadmi apni kismet khudh dekhta hai

2008-09-11T11:57:00.007+05:30

Had heard and read rave reviews for this movie. Aamir- kaun kehta hai aadmi apni kismet khudh likhta hai?
In most reviews, the stars were on the higher side of 3.
Friends came back from mid-afternoon shows and raved and ranted. Thought it had something to do with the beer levels. Some came back after evening shows and continued to rave and rant. This was serious. But somehow I couldn't get myself to believe them or rather get off my lazy backside and see the movie. That is, till last night.

Maybe it was fate or kismet as the movie poster, which I googled today, proclaimed.

The film is cock!! No apologies for the language. None at all.
It was a waste of an evening.
Why would anyone, I mean anyone in their sane mind think the film is close to palatable???
The story is lame with too many flaws. While being chased by the cop, why couldn't he jump into a taxi in the first place instead of running a marathon, waits for the phone to ring with instructions hail a cab??? When someone's chasing us, wouldn't we to find the quickest escape route??
The acting, well to put it into perspective, the mobile phone, a Nokia 6600, easily overshadowed anyone else's performance. Followed closely in second spot by the shadow that covered Gajraj for most of the film. Sarcasm aside, Gajraj was impressive.

Was trying to figure out why people thought it was a good film. Could come up with the following reasons;

- The hero dies in the end. (We're still not used to this in Bollywood)
- There is very little make up. (If there ever is a film where we have the hero or heroine sans make up, it has to be a good film e.g. Chameli)
- The hero dies in the end.
- It touches on a sensitive issue. (I have to say this- so many have touched the sensitive issue in so many ways and so many number of times, it's lost its sensitivity)

For all those who haven't yet buckled under pressure and watched the film, Bigg Boss 2 will give you better viewing pleasure.

Yes, I have come out of the closet. I am a Bigg Boss 2 fan. I've seen 6 episodes until now and I am hooked.
Don't know what it is about those few will-never-be's but I enjoy it.

Just have a few questions.

Who is the Alina girl? She isn't a singer, doesn't look like a dancer (read item girl), is she a TV actress??

And which item number has Sambhavana done?? Never seen her.

BB2 has become saans-bahu of sorts. Everyone claims not seeing it as it's full of losers but they all seem to be the updated about the events.

When I saw my first episode, I did ask myself -

Isn't Debojit getting any opportunity to sing in the industry?

Why is the saans-bahu lady, Ketki there? Thought she was doing well!

The Roadies 5.0 winner deserves to be. I have been an ardent fan of Roadies but missed out on the last few episodes of 5.0, till somebody told me this guy had won and I was glad I missed it.
Donno whether MTV offered him a job, like they did to most other Roadies, but my guess is that they haven't. And that's why he's here.

Ehsaan couldn't make the cut with his brand of humour it seems. Sad but true.

Isn't Zulfi a moderately-successful model?

But as I continued watching, all these questions seemed to disappear into the wind and meet with the answers, which in any case were blowing in the wind.

Now I do not care who is who and who is what, just like watching them dressed like school children and acting (or are they?) challenged.

Donno whether it is entertaining or not, but it feeds the bitch in me. And I like it.

What 'Pujo' means to a Bengali? by VIR SANGHVI

2008-09-08T11:56:00.000+05:30

Most modern Indian cities strive to rise above ethnicity. Tell anybody who lives in Bombay that he lives in a Maharashtrian city and (unless of course, you are speaking to Bal Thackeray) he will take immediate offence. We are cosmopolitan, he will say indigenously. Tell a Delhiwalla that his is a Punjabi city (which, in many ways, it is) and he will respond with much self-righteous nonsense about being the nation's capital, about the international composition of the city's elite etc. And tell a Bangalorean that he lives in a Kannadiga city and you'll get lots of techno-gaff about the internet revolution and about how Bangalore is even more cosmopolitan than Bombay. But, the only way to understand what Calcutta is about is recognize that the city is essentially Bengali. What's more, no Bengali minds you saying that. Rather, he is proud of the fact. Calcutta's strengths and weaknesses mirror those of the Bengali character.

It has the drawbacks: the sudden passions, the cheerful chaos, the utter contempt for mere commerce, the fiery response to the smallest provocation. And it has the strengths (actually, I think of the drawbacks as strengths in their own way). Calcutta embodies the Bengali love of culture; the triumph of intellectualism over greed; the complete transparency of all emotions, the
disdain with which hypocrisy and insincerity are treated; the warmth of genuine humanity; and the supremacy of emotion over all other aspects of human existence.
That's why Calcutta is not for everyone. You want your cities clean and green; stick to Delhi. You want your cities, rich and impersonal; go to Bombay.
You want them high-tech and full of draught beer; Bangalore's your place.
But if you want a city with a soul: come to Calcutta.. When I look back on the years I've spent in Calcutta - and I come back so many times each year that I often feel I've never been away - I don't remember the things that people remember about cities.
When I think of London, I think of the vast open spaces of Hyde Park.
When I think of NewYork, I think of the frenzy of Times Square.
When I think of Tokyo, I think of the bright lights of Shinjiku.
And when I think of Paris, I think of the Champs Elysee.
But when I think of Calcutta, I never think of any one place. I don't focus on the greenery of the maidan, the beauty of the Victoria Memorial, the bustle of Burra Bazar or the splendour of the new Howrah 'Bridge'. I think of people. Because, finally, a city is more than bricks and mortars, street lights and tarred roads. A city is the sum of its people. And who can ever forget or replicate - the people of Calcutta?

When I first came to live here, I was told that the city would grow on me. What nobody told me was that the city would change my life. It was in Calcutta that I learnt about true warmth; about simple human decency; about love and friendship; about emotions and caring; about truth and honesty. I learnt other things too. Coming from Bombay as I did, it was a revelation to live in a city where people judged each other on the things that really mattered; where they recognized that being rich did not make you a better person - in fact, it might have the opposite effect. I learnt
also that if life is about more than just money, it is about the things that other cities ignore; about culture, about ideas, about art, and about passion. In Bombay, a man with a relatively low income will salt some of it away for the day when he gets a stock market tip.

In Calcutta, a man with exactly the same income will not know the difference between a debenture and a dividend. But he will spend his money on the things that matter. Each morning, he will read at least two newspapers and develop sharply etched views on the state of the world. Each evening, there will be fresh (ideally, fresh-water or river) fish on his table. His children will be encouraged to learn to dance or sing. His family will appreciate the power of poetry And for him, religion and culture will be in inextricably bound together.

Ah religion! Tell outsiders about the importance of Puja in Calcutta and they'll scoff.. Don't be silly, they'll say. Puja is a religious festival. And Bengal has voted for the CPM since 1977. How can godless Bengal be so hung up on a religions festival? I never know how to explain them that to a Bengali, religion consists of much more than shouting Jai Shri Ram or pulling down somebody's mosque. It has little to do with meaningless ritual or sinister political activity. The essence of Puja is that all the passions of Bengal converge: emotion, culture, the love of life, the warmth of being together, the joy of celebration, the pride in artistic expression and yes, the cult of the goddess. It may be about religion. But is about much more than just worship. In which other part of India would small, not particularly well-off localities, vie with each other to produce the best pandals? Where else could puja pandals go beyond religion to draw inspiration from everything else?

In the years I lived in Calcutta, the pandals featured Amitabh Bachchan, Princes Diana and even Saddam Hussain! Where else would children cry with the sheer emotional power of Dashimi, upset that the Goddess had left their homes? Where else would the whole city gooseflesh when the dhakis first begin to beat their drums? Which other Indian festival - in any part of the country - is so
much about food, about going from one roadside stall to another, following your nose as it trails the smells of cooking?

To understand Puja, you must understand Calcutta. And to understand Calcutta, you must understand the Bengali. It's not easy. Certainly, you can't do it till you come and live here, till you let
Calcutta suffuse your being, invade your bloodstream and steal your soul. But once you have, you'll love Calcutta forever. Wherever you go, a bit of Calcutta will go with you. I know, because it's happened to me. And every Puja, I am overcome by the magic of Bengal.

It's a feeling that'll never go away.....

wake up its jacob

2008-09-03T13:42:00.004+05:30

While on this vacation I did and said things that I considered myself beyond doing or saying.

Did for the first time feel homesick. At least for the first night back in the city.

Always have put it beyond me to wake up at any hour before 12 post a night of rum, tequila, vodka and toddy.

But like somebody once said, “Everyday you learn something new”
Was definitely not the only one who was impressed at this unprecedented feat of an unaided 7:30 am wake up. Good Morning!

Had not seen Chak De (seems I was the only one) and Tashan (obviously I wasn’t in the minority here) or most Hindi movies of late. It’s not that I have something against Hindi movies but then…

Anyways, did sit through both these movies. Chak De is a mish-mash of your staple Coach Carter like Hollywood fare. Do remember a couple of dialogues but fail to place the film though. But am sure it was in the locker room of some high school American football team.
Was a predictable but watchable film.

Tashan for its part can be summed up in just one word. WHY?

Saw a lot of Malayalam movies as well.
Heard the story of the original Malayalam movie from which Billoo Barber is inspired.

Was also part of a debate where Malayalees felt they were at the receiving end when Bollywood or any other Wood paid ode to an original movie it so blatantly or at times not-so-blatantly was inspired.

Someone would copy a Malayalam movie and then a third party would copy it from them and say, “This film is inspired/ is a remake of a film made in any-other-language-other-than-Malayalam”

e.g. Billoo Barber.

Orginal film: Kathaparayumpol by the genius of a man Srinivasan in Malayalam

Remade as: Kuselan featuring Rajani in Tamil

Re-remade as: Billoo Barber with Shahrukh in Hindi. (Will see this movie for sure. Want to see a barber with outstretched arms, scissor in one hand, comb in other and a jumper thrown around the neck. In New York.)

But when ever a mention is made, Kathaparayumpol was omitted or forgotten. And Kuselan-inspired Billoo Barber was how it read.

Did not take sides in this argument.
Did not tarnish my diplomatic image. Once again. Phew!

Saw the original Gajini. Wasn’t impressed. Waiting to see Amir’s rendition.

My advice for people who like to watch movie for fun. Please buy as many of the Rs.99/- only Moserbaer DVD’s. They come with subtitles. They are awesome. I want to buy Moserbaer stocks.

Also zeroed in on 2 movies which I would like to make in Hindi.
Will ensure I mention that they are remakes of Malayalam films.
Wah! What an idea sirji!

been there...done squat

2008-09-03T00:24:00.006+05:30

August is a month of travel.

Rain clouds have travelled towards the Eastern part of the country, primarily Bihar.
Mamata and her brigade have travelled towards the Nano factory.
Indian athletes have travelled to Beijing. (I have reason to believe that this 'come back empty handed' cry is unture. They never have, never will come back empty handed from any Olympic event. Duty free ka packets paav se thodi pakadte hain?) Congrats to the three who won a medal. And also tho those who stayed on in their respective disciplines long enough to see the closing ceremony.
I also travelled to Kerala for Bruce's wedding.

It was the first Syrian Christian Wedding I had attended. From start to finish, dessert included.
And me thinks it rocked.

- The whole ceremony took just 45 mins.
- Except the groom, that too optional, no one else is expected to wear a suit.
- The temperature on that particular days was 18000 degree celcius. Or so it seemed.
- You could wear a pista coloured shirt, with a beige drawstring.
- You don't have to tuck the shirt and wrap the growth around the waist.
- You get to learn that brandy mixes well with chilled Kalyani Black Label beer. Especially at half past nine in the morning.

God bless Tresa and Bruce.

P.S. God also bless the guy who got the cannister of fresh toddy.

space

2008-09-03T00:13:00.001+05:30

grey house, mumbai

did i tell you?

2008-08-11T04:27:00.004+05:30

Last post in May. This is mid August.
I have been lazy. That’s it! Am clarifying this lest it might lead you to assume that nothing has been going on in my life. Or the monsoons had swept me or the events of my life away.

Since this post will prove otherwise, am wondering....

Did i tell you that I kind of got the hang of Facebook.
Scarbulous is fabulous. Though getting slightly bored of it.
The pictionary thingy is cool as well.

Did i tell you that I bought a house in Bangalore.
Interiors happening-bank balance disappearing.

Did I tell you that Bruce is getting married this month end. Super cool I say!

Did I tell you that I've gotten most people (read mallu’s) to say ‘Enthaaa!” instead of the,

by-now-religious ‘Wassup!’

Did I tell you that the car’s finally arrived. Tata Nano is and never will the most awaited car, for sure. Every time I uttered the word ‘gaadi’ they were cussing and the ears were bleeding.

Did I tell you about this nice campaign for Deutsche Bank platinum card that's coming up.

Did I tell you that finally I shot a film I was really happy with. Nice script. Made nicer by Aamir and Darsheel, the new boy wonder. Once completed, it should be fun. You have to hand it to the kid. We shot from 11 at night to 7:30 in the morning. He did not even blink.

DId I tell you that I have promised myself to write more regularly. That is the fun of it all. These one liners will not get you anyone son, my drawing teacher would tell me.

Did I tell you what my grandmom would say, "God's given us a memory so that we can forget."

Rest in Peace Ammachi. God bless.

films

2008-05-30T00:39:00.002+05:30

Am back. Was I away for too long?

Bumped into another of my closet readers, Purvi.

The little one of the clan. The one I used to bully the most.

the one who would change her path if she saw me coming the other way.

The one who told me that she read my blog. Regularly.

The one who did not tell me that I haven't posted for some time now.

The one who lied that she reads my blog.

Are the other lying as well??

Bunk that! Wanna try this first. Video upload.

Seen too many blogs, especially of creative peoples... so peoples, here goes...

Alas! i failed. Will try again.

Namaskaar Jindal!

2008-02-02T01:14:00.003+05:30

Finally I find the time and the inclination to post something that has been, for want of a better word, different in my life.

Hopefully, all the people who read this space, that is a total of 3, know that I had decided to take a break from whatever it is that I have been doing. A month long break. Might not seem long to a lot many folks out there but for someone like me whose longest holiday has been a Saturday and Sunday, that too one followed by the other, this is a big leap.

There were some voices in my head I had to mute before I took the decision to be away.

- Been just about 3 months since I’ve joined my new place. Is it too early to take a break? But then again, was planning to do this before I joined this place but couldn’t…why? Because I was asked to join asap.

- This is the awards season. Things seem all over the place. Although I have AJ and the boys telling me it will be cool… but then it’s never cool till you do it yourself…

Now lets tune in to the practical side of my thinking.

- I had already cancelled once and they gave me the days after much pleading.

- Screw the work! Work will happen. If not now, then later. If not by me then by someone else. I've NEVER done this and if I lose the impetus, probably never will.

So days booked, ticket booked, I was headed for a 21-day break to the Institute of Naturopathy and Yogic Sciences aka Jindal in Bangalore. This was to be followed by a couple of days at home in Kerela.

Now, ‘Why INYS?’

I have been growing, around the middle, a growth that would surely make the then bullish climb of the market a little green.

I met Vinay who had been to Jindal and on his way back left behind 14 kgs. And if Vinay can do it, so can I.

Landed in Bangalore, Friday the 21^st of December. Vinnie and Bruce along with Appu predicted to see me with then 10 days from then i.e. 31^st night. I scorned as I polished off the last bits off a grilled chicken at Empire.

Bruce, being the considerate brother he is, woke me up at 7 the following day, the taxi was waiting to drop me. Jindal here I come!

I was told it would an hour and 45 mins but that seems to be consumed pretty quickly. So here I was at the gate of the mystical place. The 'de-tox' place like some had already started calling it.

Left my bag at the main gate with the security ( do not know whether they checked it for 'food items') registerd, paid up advance and equipped with a enema tube in hand I, oops sorry by now I had become 'The Patient" , the patient was shown his ward.

It was a small cosy single room. Attached toilet, TV with cable connection and a cupboard. Was great from me.

Though I must confess one thing. The moment I walked through the gate and had my first glimpse of the other 'patients' I suddenly felt thin. I was looking anorexic.

And that frequent, "Aap yahan pe kis liye aaye ho?" Further fanned my ego.

So here I was, after my first 2 days, complete with morning walks, juices, yoga and enemas, lying on my bed thinking, 'maybe I really do not need to lose weight!'

But Dr. Nagarjuna inscribe OBESE against my name. Yes, i was a bit on the heavier side but obese!!! The weighing scale decided to side with him and show a whopping 104.8 kgs.

Could hear a quite sigh from within, as soon I did alight from atop it.

The first 2 days were boring. I saw people walk in groups, drink juice in groups, some were even playing badminton and I did not even know anyone remotely.

It took me 2 days before Arjun came up and introduced himself to me. I did notice the occasional glances from people whenever I did pass by. It must have been the hair!

Anyways thanks to Arjun I met Ketan and then Darshan and his dad, Dr. Vaidya. Yesss!! I knew people around here.

Darshan was a Gujju boy, born and brought up in London, been to the London School of Economics, who at 21 possessed a head of a 40 year old, which he kept bobbing from side-to-side whenever he approved or disapproved anything from the contents of his lunch to the horrendous shot on the badminton court.

Having broken the ice at the dining centre, it was time to do the same at the badminton court. Mahesh happened. The soft speak, 25 kilometer-a-day-walking Kannada bloke. Through him I made friends with the rest of the gang.

The Gujju speaking British brother sister duo of Prashaanth and Dershnaa (Read it like it's written and you will know what I am talking about).

The lady 40-day old vetran at the camp, Priyanka. Who, while speaking, paused only to think of the next topic to speak. So all we heard was about her brother's wedding. Her husband. Her family. Her treks. Her job. Her brother's wedding. Her husband. Her family. Her treks. Her job.

The enunciating Ms. Raj. Who we met only from lunch onwards, as the morning walks etc were not happening for her.

Nilz and his wife, forgot her name. Actually never spoke with her, so did not know here name.

Then Vineet and his wife. From Calcutta.

Then the days seemed to breeze through. Actually no. It's not true. Atleast sessions like yoga, mornings walks etc were more comfortable as I had Darshan, my conscience egging me on.

I was losing 500-700 gms a day.

Darshan was about 500 gms a day.

Mahesh was losing more than a kilo a day.

The rest were putting on what we were losing.

More people came. They left. I was still there.

Even more people came, all the people I knew left, I was still there.

What made me think of 21 days! What?

silver lining

2007-12-21T04:59:00.000+05:30

Gone 'til November

2007-11-08T20:09:00.000+05:30

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!.

greyate

2007-11-05T17:07:00.000+05:30

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…

Juleh ( meaning Hello in Ladakhi)

2007-09-13T12:46:00.001+05:30

H2Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!

2007-08-21T20:10:00.000+05:30

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)

I do not know wot to title this post…

2007-08-01T19:42:00.000+05:30

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!!!

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

2007-07-18T15:45:00.000+05:30

'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'

no abcds only jpegs

2007-06-22T20:03:00.001+05:30

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.

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

2007-06-02T23:56:00.000+05:30

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.”

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

2007-05-30T01:47:00.000+05:30

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!

opposites...

2007-05-23T16:32:00.000+05:30

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.

2007-05-23T16:31:00.000+05:30

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.

Where r u from back home?

2007-04-12T15:08:00.000+05:30

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.

Talk to me...

2007-03-13T12:50:00.001+05:30

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…

Here goes...

2007-02-25T02:42:00.000+05:30

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.

sorry blog

2007-02-07T01:09:00.000+05:30

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.

Cause my bags are packed … by Vinay Kanchan

2007-01-11T11:50:00.000+05:30

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)

left click

2007-01-08T16:58:00.000+05:30

dont say anything... just click...

...ok...one more...

..actually there's this as well...

Retirement

2007-01-04T20:55:00.000+05:30

(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!

silence broken...

2006-12-28T00:58:00.000+05:30

There are a lot of topics I intend to touch upon in this post of mine.
Only fair! I'd say.
After all it's been so darn long since my last post.
And a lot has transpired between then and this very moment.

Recollection time...

AJ - well, he's left for green pastures or should I say redder apples. Gosh! That sounded so corny! Last heard, he was sitting under a particular lamppost in the Parel area with an apple in hand doing a Newton of sorts. All the best pal!

Honestly, the exact reason why I got myself to write this post is Appu.
Read her latest post and pondered. Wondered would be apt.
We were 'ok-ok' friends in college but have become kind of close (here, I'm speaking entirely for myself) the last couple of years.
Have no clue what it is! But it sure is strange.
I LIKE STRANGE!
Apart from being a wonderful person, she is, for want of a better term 'raw'
Raw with her emotions (I adore her for that).
Raw with her opinions.
And above all raw with her instincts. (Have I repeated myself here?)

I just like having her as a friend and even though she is too busy nursing Meeshu to answer my call, I still like talking to her.

Then there's Sue. The sexy mallu lass. She is one person who you'd want to call when you wake up. She has the kind of warmth and glow, which should be a mandatory prescription for most of us with mundane lives and issues.

Di is another such radiant child. Child I say 'coz she treats me like a baby. Here's getting back at one of the truest and most genuine people I've met in this slanderous life of mine.

Have too many thoughts gushing into this ill-equipped cranium of mine. Thoughts I find too difficult to put down.

So let me switch gears to my next favourite subject -- FREE PRESS JOURNAL!

It surely is the holiday season. A time of giving and sharing.

Giving, they sure are -- upto 26 'proactive' ads a day in the Indian version of the Luerzers Archive. Our very own FPJ.

Sharing, we sure are -- each one claiming his pound of flesh from the 'agency's awards kitty'

Amidst all this, did go home for Christmas though. Took Cocoa along. Left her back with the folks. Think it'd be better for her. A move wholly and fully supported by Chidu and the entire Chennai Express.
It's been a day and I MISS MY BABY!

Andalib had come down. Bugger sent me a T-shirt through DHL. Took longer to get it from Cal to here than from the sweatshops in China to the arcades down under. So much for overnight delivery.

Signing out on that note.
Compliments of the season to one and all.
Stay Blessed.

3...

2006-11-25T22:04:00.000+05:30

And then one day the three would meet…

So it was written… so did it happen!
Rewind back to Calcutta. Early, formative years.
Formative? Hmmm… can almost hear Appu and AJ nodding their ever so wise heads.

Screw all that! Back then we were 3 of us. Hozi aka Hozefa Meccawala (Gujarati sounding, gujju boy. And he is as weird as this sounds. Take my word for it), Sudhin aka Sudhinra Nath (Bengali sounding mallu boy) and me (Gujarati sounding mallu boy)

Hozefa was the bright spark. And so I made him my best friend. Let alone flunking any exam, he was never ever 'surprised' by those nonsensical 'Surprise tests'. He was the rubber-ball, badminton court- football champ amongst many others.

Then came Sudhin. His report card made me happy. It was a sea of red with the solitary blue (for PT) standing up and hoping to be counted.

We've been through it all. Porn. Fights. Chits. So on and so forth.

Hozefa and I have been friends from the age of 3. And my mother tells me that when we were in upper nursery he went to her with a complaint.
He accused me of having shown him my weenie…Man! Did I start early or what?
Something which he claims he has no memory of now.
I say, ask them other people…hmmm…

Anyways the first hurdle came. Class 10. All of us managed to jump over it without hurting our parent's ego or ourselves. On second thoughts maybe a few dents here and there. But the bottom line is that we crossed the finish line. With chest and head arched in front.

Sudhin left for kerala. Did speak to him once. But other than that no news.
Hozefa tried to become a CA. I tried to be Hozefa.
Life went on.

Many moons, a wife and a kid later, for Hozi, both of us were in Mumbai.
Then I went to Gurgaon. He went to Kuwait.
We didn't think much of Sudhin.

Fast forward. No news from Hozefa as well. Called his Kuwait number, they said he'd gone back to India. Well thank you! But where in India? Back to square one.

The other day I check my mail. See his name in bold shouting out from the Inbox. It's been marked to Sudhin as well. Shit! Can't be.

There's another mail from Hozi, validating my e-mail id. Ok..ok… it's getting a little boring…
So many mails and calls later, I finally speak to Sudhin.
THIRTEEN long years later!
This is what I got to know from him…
While I was in Calcutta and Hozefa was in Calcutta, Sudhin was in Kerala
Then when I was in Calcutta and Hozefa was in Calcutta, Sudhin was in Bombay
I was in Bombay and Hozefa was in Bombay, Sudhin was in Bombay
I was in Gurgaon and Hozefa was in Kuwait, Sudhin was in Bombay
And now…
When I'm in Bombay and Hozefa is in Bombay, Sudhin too is in Bombay.

Thank you Bombay… we're back…Me and my best friends!

Appu ab idhar hai…

2006-11-10T14:59:00.000+05:30

All this Appu talk of late was getting to me. And what better way to bring all this to an end by having her come down.
And that's precisely what she did. Bags, baggage and meeshu et al
The itinerary was set. She'd be here for a week. Sunday to Sunday.
Left the rest of the planning to the 'main man' - Chidu.

Arrival date: Sunday 5th November

9:30 am shopping for the list Appu demanded for. Carrots, beans, mixer, grinder etc etc etc.
Salary IN 1st November. Salary OUT 5th November. (for Chidu, I must add)

Flight lands at 11 or so. But like always we were late. So the master decided to skip the dropping of shopping bags at base and instead lug them all the way to the airport.
He also had some theory about getting the cab driver to park in some 'special' place.
It was to be a clean pick-up. A job that would up the bar for the CIA. In-out in 5 mins flat.

Flat it sure was. No not the tyre, you silly! How very predictable. The plan fell flat on it's or rather our face. The flight was late. Chidu couldn't find the 'special' place and so on and so forth.

2 shady looking 'madrasi boys' outside the arrival lounge.
2 carry bags with carrots, mixer-grinder etc.
'What bomb are they thinking of next?' was the question let out by those prying eyes.
Though must admit that got more raised eyebrows from the womankind.
And they weren't bothered with this threat-shreat business.
All of them were dying, no pun intended, to know where we got the vegetables from and whether we'd driven a better bargain than themselves.

Finally the flight landed. And yes! Appu took the 'toy train' of the aeroplane world - Air Deccan.

Cut to home. The introduction with Meeshu didn't go as planned.
I scared her. She cried.
Appu stared at me.
I stared at Meeshu. She cried.

Right then Meeshu felt for me the kind of love Cocoa feels for the thermometer and the places it visits on her body. Cocoa doesn't normally say anything. She cried!

Now that Appu came.
Gargi and Kaushik came.
Vicky came.
Even Anu came.
Vicky will come again.
Vinnie came.
Good i say!

Drive slow, folks on board!

2006-11-01T19:10:00.000+05:30

So it was written. So it was done.

The above line sums up how I was the past week. And I attribute this state of mind to the visit of my parents.

To be honest, I see no reason to complain. The 4 days could very well be summed up in just one word -- GLUTTONY. This vice is nice!

iblogged

2006-10-19T17:34:00.000+05:30

Bored. Very bored. That’s how I’m feeling today. Too bored even to mention how I felt the same, yesterday and the day before. There! I’ve done it. So maybe I’m not that bored after all.
So let me quickly replace the word bored with the more apt, lazy.
Let’s re-read the first para with this alteration.
Hmmm… better. Much better.

The long weekend crawls closer. Have no mega plans lined up to nail it. And looking at the way Arun’s sprawled on his sofa in his cabin, it’s quite evident that I am not alone. Yesss!

Talking of Arun. The self-appointed tech savvy, alpha male got himself an ipod the other day. And the herd mentality was not to be left out here as well, so the other pillar of technological superiority, Nikhil, got himself the same gizmo.

Cut to the boyz in da hood walking around with their respective ipods, cords, manuals etc in hand like harassed parents seeking kindergarten admissions for the by products of flawed condoms.

The pillar started developing cracks, the alpha male as far away from success as our beloved servicing is to client issues.

A crisis was at hand. And who better to handle it than Mr. Gaurav ‘ten hands’ Lalwani and his Excellency Mehboob ‘ambidextrous’ Kasim.

A playlist here. A plug there. A copy here. A transfer there.
‘Where?’ the alpha man questioned. ‘Phsss’ he heard Gaurav’s spit bubble land on his supple lips. He was quietened. For now.

The transfer continued. Not necessarily of mp3’s from the PC to the ipod. But of bodies from one USB port to the other.

The air was filled with ‘Who’s’ ‘What’s’ ‘Where’s’ and ‘How’s’ The junta, like myself, felt the dreaded board exams were in progress.

Saji had a point or two. Infact, we ensured it never went beyond that. ‘There obviously isn’t any planning here’ he sneaked in before disappearing with the women folk into the yoga session. (More on this later).
Before I move on, it was 6 words from him. We had failed.

But the super humans hadn’t. They were strutting around with the headphones plugged in the right orifices.

Atleast someone was having fun.

‘Enjoy karo!’ I said and moved on to another planet.

etc etc etc

2006-10-12T19:58:00.000+05:30

My fear seems to be coming true. Can't motivate myself to keep posting day in and day out.
Probably I don't need to. Probably I lead a boring life.
Come on, can’t be. I am the worm.

So come on worm, speak.

Seems like AJ liked the attention, time and cyber space I've spent on him.
What are frens for AJ?

Appu's written something about me. Read it and felt it was good. Well, that's my opinion. Guess you'd have to visit her blog to be a judge. She's written about some stuff I'd forgotten. After having read wot she's written, I too miss the school and college days. Minus the exams, tests and punishments.
And since these are part and parcel of school and college life, I'd settle for the 2 years of SIMC. Man! Was life fun.

But I do miss Cal. (Calcutta, for the uninitiated.) Miss those late night addas under the streetlight. Roll call time.
Andalib
Bittoo
Chotu (to and from sutta breaks)
Rajdeep
Raj
Adil (to and from gym and alipore)
Gablu (avoiding his dad)
Bruce

These were the regulars. Then there were the non para boys.
Ajeesh, Jomy, Aditya (Andy;s fren)

No matter where we all went to spent the evening. Russell Street dhaba, Sharma's, Tantra, Someplace Else, Karnani, John's coop or Rajdeep's mezzanine floor. The gathering under the light was a daily ritual. Only to be missed owing to high (read excess) intake of alcohol, get lucky (read scoring with the chicks) and annual report card.

God, I Miss those times!

AJ the PJ

2006-10-06T22:00:00.000+05:30

It’s been a while since the worm’s spoken. Not that too many were complaining. Except for my trusted old pal, AJ. Too up market a name for this Gujju bhai, so it’s best to call a spade a spade. In this case – Ameet Joshi.

Been busy of late. (And before AJ has a comment, let me say it myself, ‘For a change.’ Ameet stop sniggering)

China is driving me up the wall. ‘Not surprising’ said AJ the PJ, ‘they own the Great Wall dude!’ Guess this is the right moment in time for me to confess to the whole world or the two people who read this blog (AJ and me) the real reason why I tolerate Ameet Joshi.

The fact, not hidden to any, is that he makes me look good.
- More hair
- Less fat
- Better clothes
-That too matching
Aren’t these more than good reasons for anyone to put up with a little body odour and a little more audacity? They sure are for me!

I might be getting a bit carried away. Only a bit. So, since I’ve claimed to call a spade a spade, here it is.
I really do wish I’d have a heart and mind like his. Warm, sharp, quick-witted and above all, non-judgmental.

(Get a hold of yourself Brijesh. It was supposed to be a moment of weakness. Let it pass.)

OK! The moment and wind has passed. Where were we? Yeah…the Chinese. Those buggers were really onto me.
‘Why me Lord?’ I cried. Like a man of little faith.
But God moves in mysterious ways. So instead of sending down his wrath, he sent me the newspaper, wrapped.
And it declared verily unto me that even the PM is human and so is his family members, especially his grandson. And if they could be faced with this then who am I?
Man, mere man. (Jokes apart, hope the kid recovers soon.)

Faith restored I returned. Or should I say I left. For Aamby Valley. The exclusive city hidden in the hills of Lonavala.

I went. I saw. I wandered and wondered. What’s the big deal? The place is nice. The rates unheard of. The service, competent. But put together it surely wasn’t EARTH’S FINEST ABODE. No sir. Not by a long shot.
So 3 stiff shots. And I slept over it.
Woke up next morning, no change in opinion.
So 3 more shots.
Cheers!

Found

2006-09-22T19:33:00.000+05:30

As I had promised. No, not promised. (Too strong a word.) So let me try again.

As I had written. (See below.) The research carried on.

Like King Bruce, I watched the spiders, (kapil, his friends on the other side of the telephone receiver and timmy in this case) try, fail. And try again.

Experts were called in and as the situation got a little graver, everyone whose names started with an H, T, M and L were summoned. But to no avail.

So it was left to the home team to come up with the solution.

I called in a meeting. A SWOP analysis of sorts. But knowing the team and the history between members couldn't get past drawing the grid, which looks a bit like this.

----------------------------

just when i had resigned to my fate, Kapil pulled out a rabbit from the hat. HIMSELF.

the normally, reserved, brooding, pessimistic Kapil, decided to catch this opportunity with both hands and to everyone's surprise came up with the solution.

Before I divulge the details let me absolve everyone who i had cursed, vocally or beneath my breath. It was not a human problem.

My old nemesis, the firewall, has breathed up this huge obstacle that did not allow some icons to be displayed.

A privilege, enjoyed by people blessed with exemplary gifts. Not knowing what they are at this stage, I can only take a guess. Which owing to its sensitive nature shall be divulged only after evidence has been gathered.

So till then lets enjoy the fruits of Kapil’s labour.
Here are the two links. Do click. Do read.

http://www.ishikasadhukhan.blogspot.com

http://www.butkintuparantu.blogspot.com

The Missing Link

2006-09-22T12:19:00.000+05:30

The last few days have been exasperating for me. Appu’s got 2 really nice blogs.
Wanted to share it with the rest. But haven’t been able to link the blogs.

Spoken to my ‘one-stop-blog-shop’, Sue. She said, all she does is copy the link and paste it onto her create post page and voila it’s there. I tried it. But maybe it’s got to do with ‘karma’. It wasn’t there.

Frantic calls to Sue. Try without http. Try with http. Try www. Try copy pasting from the page. Tried this. Tried that. Tried. Tried and got tired.

Sue you are a sweetheart. Thank you.

Since all this didn’t work. Tried Option B. Or should I say, Option T. Timmy, my man Monday-Friday.

He did some research, snapped his fingers, cried Eureka and ran out. Thankfully, for us, with his clothes on.

He tutored me. A little bit of copy. A little bit of paste. A little bit of html and here it was, it had become a hyperlink.

Timmy, it’s officially out, ‘you’re the man!’

Perhaps I conferred the title on him too soon. (Another Sania in the making???) I did see a spark in him. But if you click the hyperlink, you’d see for yourself, there’s no fire!!!

Timmy you are not ‘the man’ you are the ‘missing link’. Period.

Now more hours will be put in. Researchers from across the web summoned and I will crack the code.

Until then, links stink!

ishika's mom

2006-09-20T19:02:00.000+05:30

i'm pretty excited about this blog of mine. and hopefully will be keep it going for a much longer time than i have for most other 'sudden' interests.

sent out a mail to some of my frens, telling them abt this new quirk of mine.

appu posted a comment. so guess i'll write abt here in this missive.

appu was in college with me. in pune.
and if u know any or rather both of us, you'd know straight away we couldn't be friends.

this calls for a quick refresher course. tick off the below.
- strong headed
- opinionated.
- vociferous
- non bengali's speaking the language
(must confess she got better command on the language)

but they say God moves in mysterious ways.

we've had are bouts of not talking. talking. ignoring. snarling and finally since we were both getting tired, settled on being where we are.
'comfortable' with each other.

read both her blogs today. superb i'd say to her personal one. ishika's is sweet.
and that's not appu...

got lots to write. donno where to start. so best visit the below.

http://www.butkintuparantu.blogspot.com

interesting read...a mail i recieved.

2006-09-20T18:03:00.000+05:30

SYD BARRETT
Jul 20th 2006

Roger "Syd" Barrett, leader of Pink Floyd, died on July 7th, aged 60

TO THOSE who were young then, the late 1960s were the best thing since
1789. All that followed paled by comparison. This was the time of the
Paris riots, with students hurling cobbles and the FLICS hurling
tear-gas back; the first convulsions over the war in Vietnam; the
Prague spring, quickly crushed by Soviet tanks; and everywhere the
sense that the young, by sheer numbers, could overthrow the established
order and make the world again.

If they failed to remake it, this was largely because they were out of
it on one illegal substance or another. For many of them, the drug
scene was a quick, soggy spliff behind the bike sheds, or a reverential
division of a cake of greenish powder, washed down with a glass of
Liebfraumilch and covered up with burning joss sticks. Yet at the
highest levels of culture the new gods of rock music tripped on much
more dangerous stuff, and sang about it. They did not find truth
exactly, as much as yellow walruses, purple fields, kaleidoscopic skies
and melting buildings, all of which were evoked in music and light
shows so new and peculiar that the best way to appreciate them was by
being prone and stoned yourself.

Syd Barrett was the very exemplar of this wild universe. As the leader
of Pink Floyd, the highly successful psychedelic band that he
christened in 1965, he wrote and sang of "lime and limpid green", of
Dan Dare, of gingerbread men and, in the band's first hit, "Arnold
Layne", of a transvestite who stole underwear from moonlit washing
lines. His weird words and odd, simplistic melodies, sent through an
echo-machine, seemed sometimes to be coming from outer space.

Yet there was also something quintessentially English and middle class
about Mr Barrett. His songs contained the essence of Cambridge, his
home town: bicycles, golden robes, meadows and the river. Startlingly,
he sang his hallucinations in the perfect, almost prissy enunciation of
the Home Counties. He made it possible to do rock in English rather
than American, inspiring David Bowie among others. The band's first
album, "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" (1967), made Mr Barrett
central, plaintively calling up the new age from some distant and
precarious place.

Yet the songs were already tipping over into chaos, and by January
1968 Mr Barrett was unable to compose or, almost, to function. Dope,
LSD and pills, consumed by the fistful, overwhelmed a psyche that was
already fragile and could not bear the pressures of success. At
concerts he would simply play the same note over and over, or stand
still in a trance. If he played, no one knew where he was going, least
of all himself. The band did not want to part with him, but could not
cope with him; so he was left behind, or left them, enduring drug
terrors in a cupboard under the stairs in his London flat. Casualties
of "bad trips" usually recovered, with stark warnings for the unwary.
Mr Barrett, famously, went on too many and never came back.

Friends, especially his Pink Floyd colleagues, tried to encourage him
to resurrect his career. Their attempts were heartbreaking. At various
times in 1968 and 1969 microphones were put in front of him and he was
persuaded to sing and play. Cruelly, the recordings of his solo
efforts, "The Madcap Laughs" and "Barrett" (both 1970), caught
everything: the nervous coughs, the desperate riffling of pages, the
cries of frustration ("Again? I'll do it again now?"), the numbers of
takes. The sleeve of "Madcap" showed a naked girl in attendance--there
had been any number of those--but Mr Barrett oblivious to her, his face
masked by long hair and mascara, crouched shivering on the floor.

Cambridge, where he had learned to play banjo and had proudly covered
his first guitar with mirror-discs, seemed the best place to retreat
to. He went back to live in his mother's cellar, boarding up the
windows, and returned to the painting for which he had trained at
Camberwell School of Art. Ambushing journalists were told that his head
was "irregular", and that he was "full of dust and guitars".

Mr Barrett was now the most famous recluse in British rock. Slight as
his oeuvre had been, it proved impossible to forget. His death, from
complications of diabetes, brought an outburst of regret from rock
stars and fans who were still following him. Tom Stoppard's play "Rock
'n' Roll", which was playing at the Royal Court when he died, made him
a metaphor for revolutionary music: in 1968 a Pan-figure piping
liberation, in the 1990s a tired, grey man spotted in a supermarket.

SHINING LIKE THE SUN
His band last saw him in 1975 as they recorded, in "Shine on you Crazy
Diamond", a tribute to him that sounded like yet more encouragement.
("Come on you raver, you seer of visions/Come on you painter, you
piper, you prisoner, and shine.") Mr Barrett wandered in, fat and
shaven-headed and hardly recognisable. As his friends sang "You shone
like the sun", he seemed to laugh sarcastically. He stayed a while in
the studio, and then went away.

On the recording, a guitar player drifting in space walks through a
door and finds himself in a loud cocktail party. Managers and promoters
come up and flatter him, cajole him into working for them, but at last
he escapes again. This time, nobody can catch him.

INXs in Mumbai

2006-09-20T18:01:00.000+05:30

INXS is scheduled to play live in Mumbai at the MMRDA grounds on October
5th.

Tickets prices at 1200 & 70 will be available at Planet M & Rhythm House
from 21st Sep.

If u r looking to bum freebies, catch friends at DNA, Kingfisher Airlines,
Akruti Nirman & VH1.

If u followed Rock Star : INXS, then u can listen to the winner JD Fortune
front the band.

shooters in india

2006-09-20T10:52:00.000+05:30

had this niggling thought in my head for some time now. but since it's a niggling one, didn't come to fore front. not until yesterday.
it's a question rather. 'Why aren't there shooters in india?'
ask the film producers, diamond merchants or better still the father of krishh, you'd say vehmently.

no re. not those kinds. but come to think of it, the job profile is almost the same -- remove scum off the surface -- that's what they too claim, don't they?

mine is a more specific query. why aren't there any shooters in indian hotels?
why? why?

i can understand in firang land where they wipe and polish those places where the sun don't shine. but in good old india will prefer the situtaion watered down.

atleast the Taj's could have them. they are indian hotels after all. or since Tata ji is a parsee, it's like they do in iran? donno how they do it there? do they? i'm pressed (no pun intended)to ask.

here, tissues are for other issues. it's water we're after.

2006-09-19T11:32:00.000+05:30

Good morning! well, actually not so good. lots of phone calls. Lots of servicing phone calls. its getting to me. and to add to it, there's this irritating brief. No, not the one i've got on. Thankfully, when it comes to that I have the option of reliving my childhood dream. Being Commando.
But not in this case.Alas!
It's pretty complicated. It's for a car. A car that is big. but not really that 'big'. I've heard stories like these of some 'Big' guys. So the task at hand (not so 'big' for the protagonist in the stories i've heard. He!he!) is to inbibe a self of pride in owning a car that is supposed to be 'big' but not actually 'that big' when compared to the REAL 'big' boys.
wish i could find the solution in some agony aunt column. Lots of 'Big' guys wriote-in about their 'big' problems when compared to other smaller boys with a 'big' sense of pride!
been struggling with it.
Add to this the chaos in China. would be asking for too much if I'd have to ask them to open their eyes wide to reality.
why don't they do what they're best at? we do the ads. They just copy them.
Ctrl C. Ctrl V. Simple!

So i need help. Running to get another cup of coffee. Maybe the answers lie deep within the chickery sediments.

Please Pray for me my Brethern!
cheers till then.

2006-09-18T21:45:00.000+05:30

orkut!

been noticing tons of people in my office logging onto this site daily. thumbnails of PYT's and some not so PYT's smeared all across screens. was kind of pissed off coz they had managed to tuck two of my main communications devices (msn & yahoo msngrs) behind some frigging firewall. Now, how is this soldier going to update satus on his whereabout to the rest of his kind out there?
why couldn't they block orkut or the Hi 5's of the world? nothing to hi-5 about, may i add, rather cornily.

but this thing is a boon. (thanks Timmy, once again) hey bugger! makes me think, are you working at all, you friggin trainee writer!

but the site rocks. so my sugesstion. if the msgnrs have left a void in your communications routine, here's the (whatever) that'll more than fill it up... www.orkut.com.

cheers till then!

2006-09-18T21:44:00.000+05:30

so c'maaan. let's see em ads.

Greetings!

2006-09-18T21:13:00.000+05:30

finally have got my own blog.
feels kind of cool.
although i must confess that i had created the account a couple of weeks back. (Thanks Timmy)
but have managed to scribble something only today. (Thanks Sue)
So without further ado... Let the blogging begin!