iDEATE

Show me the money, honey!

2009-03-05T07:07:00.000-08:00

How much money is ‘enough money’? I always have people come up to me and ask, “What do you do for a living mate?”. And after I’ve given them all that spiel on ideation and creativity, they go, “So how much money do you make?”. I mean what the F man. Half these people (well, make it nearly ALL) are stuck up in ruddy jobs that only lets them exercise their rusty thumbs to do a Ctrl C and a Ctrl V. They create absolute zilch their whole lives, going about their zombie-ite existence and making their parents go, “Oh, my son works for this fancy company you know. Makes money in dollars”. And all of this, only for that pseudo satisfaction of being able to count xyz rupees at the end of the month. Nobody wants a career. All they want is a job; and still, unfortunately so, THEIR cheeks are what all relatives want to pinch and squeeze in every fucking social gathering.

Now before I send out the wrong signal, lemme clear the air. I don’t want any grubby hand on my cheek, however adorable the intent maybe, squeezing it in an affectionate fit. My girl pinches me enough to compensate for the rest of the populace and boy am I glad for that or what! What I hate, is people signing me off as a no-brainer the minute I tell them I’m making a fraction of what their s/w engineering nincompoops are making.

WTF! I probably tax my brain more than all those s/w geeks ever do in their entire swathe of 24 hours. My profession necessitates I think round the clock, address real world problems, and solve them successfully. Every application my s/w counterpart writes a program for, has only a handful of algorithms that ring right in the binary scheme of things. The solution is a given and the codes they write are well, already defined. I write programs too. I write them for real people, mapping the entire spectrum of human emotions, which if laid in a straight line, would encircle our planet a zillion times and more.

It’s easy writing a program for a car accessory that needs to beep if something other than a perfect fit of a key is shoved into its arse. But it’s definitely not easy writing an ad for a vodka that is pink in colour, costs over 3 grand, can be drunk neat, targets the ‘muaaaaaaah daaaaaaaahling’ crowd, and goes by the name of Pinky! It’s easy writing code for an investment bank whose coffers once filled will spew out the exact amount figure that’s crammed in, right down to the last dime. But hallelujah, it ain’t easy understanding why people would shop in a Stella McCartney shop, or buy a Gucci bag (try asking Paris Hilton why she likes sporting Gucci bags. Even with all that drivel in her head, she’ll probably come up with umpteen number of reasons why the bag’s gonna make her go “wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!”). It’s probably easy writing a program for the electronic Rolex inside the hallowed turfs of Wimbledon. Every time Freddie hits an ace and his pleasantly plump girl smiles beatifically at him, the camera also pans on the Rolex and the time it screams with pin point precision. But try writing an ad for a Tommy watch and understand the sea of ‘Should I, shouldn’t I?’ thoughts a consumer goes through before he makes the purchase, and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

I’m not saying all techno geeks are dumb. I’m only saying that my thinking and involvement with my gray cells to offer communication solutions to brands is greater than what my friends with fancy job titles and pay packages do. Money’s gonna come with time. And hopefully, so will fame and flashbulbs. And that’s when I’ll look at you, you cheek pinching dumb aunty, and say, “Fuck You”. Till then, you can do all the googlee-wooglee-wosh you want to guys with big pay checks and uninteresting lives. My time’s gonna come; not to get pinched, instead to give you the finger.

When LOVE = Valentine’s Day

2009-02-17T22:50:00.000-08:00

I had to debate like a zillion times in my head whether to write this blog piece or not. I mean, I’m only 23 and after you’ve read it, you’re all probably gonna think that I’m 30 in the head or something. But all this hoopla around Mutalik and his cronies playing Secret Santa on Feb 14th and screaming “Surprise!!” to clueless lovers, was very, bherry stifling to say the least.

Do I believe in love? I wouldn’t have been in a relationship this long if I didn’t believe in it’s sheer magic. But do I believe in Valentine’s Day? I don’t know. I’ve always been skeptical about one-day-celebratory-exhibitionisms. It’s one thing to walk down Brigade Road with the love of your life locked in your arms. Quite another, to match steps with each other on the same pavement come Valentine’s. It’s like everybody expects you to walk down Brigade’s or hang out at Forum with your valentine on that designated day. More like you are doing it to pander others’ egos and conform to their diction of love.

If love truly is timeless, then why do we have to time our fuzzy hormones to clock-struck-12-on-feb-14th perfection, every year? Being in love is never hep. It is joyous, almost always. Fulfilling at nearly all times, to say the least. But what makes it so special is the fact that, no matter how old your relationship is, it will never cease to make you smile with unbridled happiness. Being in love shouldn’t just make you glow outwardly, instead it should make you feel happy and weak kneed, from inside. Where Mutalik and his dicks lost the plot is telling people what to and what not to do. Outraged people made up their minds that they would do everything Mutalik told them not to do. So it was more an act of ‘see-dickhead-I’m-walking-on-brigade’s-with-my-girl-wrapped-in-my-arms’ than ‘baby-you-complete-me’.

I loathe Mutalik from the innards of my core. Any man who dictates how love should be expressed should be gunned down at point blank range. But that still doesn’t convince me about all the euphoria and brouhaha surrounding Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’m just old fashioned. Or maybe, I’m just not high on Feb 14th as people in love ought to be. Either which ways, I still stand by the fact that love is magical without Valentine’s halo around Cupid telling all arrow struck couples, “Today is THE day lover boy. Go get some!”. For me, everyday has to be Valentine’s Day, just to make sure that my girl and me are ‘doing fine, together’.

P.S: For those wanting to know how my Valentine’s Day went, we celebrated it on the 15th and not the 14th as the entire world did (Well, we had our reasons you know). We watched Marley and Me, had a real romantic ‘ching ling’ brunch, drove around in the cool evening breeze; and yeah, we did say the three magical words to each other a lot of times.

25 things you didn't know about me!

2009-02-09T00:23:00.000-08:00

So you think you know me, right down to my loo habits and the insanely weird quirks i wear proudly on my sleeve? Dig this!

I have to first wear my left shoe/floater/slip on, ALWAYS, before my right foot gets clothed!

I have a horrendously bad memory, so much so that I sometimes don’t even remember the few good lines I write!

I have a thing for long wavy hair (In the opposite sex, that is! Course my girl’s got flowing hair, else I wouldn’t be digging my own grave writing this!).

I have the sweetest tooth possible, like ever known to the whole of mankind. I also have weird cravings for chocolate truffle in the wee hours of the morning!

I make the yummiest Maggi noodles. That incidentally is the only thing I know how to cook!

I don’t know how to swim without a swimming tube!

There hasn’t been a single time I have gotten into a swimming pool and not peed in it!

I can never get a tongue twister wrong, or even so much as stammer in the middle of a real knotty one!

I shaved for the first time when I was in my 10th standard from my father’s razor. I lamely told my mom later on, that I SCRAPED the non existent tufts of hair on my face to ward off pimples!

I can finish any book in one day.

I cannot for the life of me add two 2 digit numbers without help!

I used to pronounce ‘FAUX PAS’ as ‘fox pass’ and not ‘faw pah’, till I was 20.

Stomach this! I once ate a whole cooker of rice in one sitting, single handedly, because my dad was disgruntled about my eating habits.

I have to, HAVE TO, have everything around me CLEAN and ORDERLY. I’m a cleanliness freak and cannot sleep a wink if there’s even a tiny speck of dirt in my loo!

My favourite TV channel till I passed my 12th std, was Cartoon Network!

I have a thing for women in sarees and I used to watch Ekta Kapoor’s serials (muted, with heavy metal playing on the stereo in the background) during my 12th std, only to lech at the saree clad protagonists!

I think formal clothes are anathema. I would never be caught in a starched pin striped suit, much less a tux.

I suffer from vertigo. Heights make me really, really dizzy.

I can never take an injection without fainting. 5 minutes into the injection, and I will surely, ALWAYS faint.

I can never write more than a paragraph by putting pen to paper. I need to have the keyboard on my lap, as I lovingly look at the alphabets on it, and let my fingers weave magic.

I used to be paranoid about the sun on my skin till I was 20. There have been times I have gone to bring milk, as early as 6 in the morning, with unbrushed teeth and wearing sun screen lotion!

I am extremely narcissistic. Even more so about my brain, and partly the reason I’ll murder the person, who even comes close to questioning my intelligence.

I wear the hickies and nail marks on my bodice like a talisman.

I had once peed all over a carom board and had left a huge stain on it as a toddler. The carom board and the stain, much to my chagrin, are still there in our place.

I bunked my 12th std Chemistry Practical exams and went to the Chinnaswamy Stadium to watch Sachin rape England’s happiness. I eventually wrote my final boards only for 90 marks as the practicals I skipped, carried the remaining 10 marks!

My Bucket List

2009-01-17T13:50:00.000-08:00

What are the list of things I would like to do before I kick the bucket? Ever since I saw the movie ‘Bucket List’, I have always wondered what my brown list of things are, that I would like to do before I visit heaven. The following is the wild spirited me pandering my inner ‘craving’ self.

Write a bestseller.
Sign autographs.
Appear on ‘We the People’.
Kiss in the rain.
Kiss under the ocean.
Bungee jump with the ocean underneath to kiss my fall.
Become the youngest Creative Director in a fab agency.
Write a movie script and watch it unfold on 70 mm in a theatre packed with other celebrities.
Watch ‘Bride and Prejudice’ in an empty theatre, with only my girl (that incidentally was the first movie we saw as a couple).
Visit a foreign country.
Visit the Seven Wonders of the World.
Rip around an F1 track in an F1 car (a Ferrari).
Own a Porsche Carrera 911.
Learn how to cook and dish out a romantic sumptuous dinner for my girl.
Learn a foreign language.
Learn Tamil (to woo my in-laws!).
Play cricket in the Chinnaswamy Stadium, once; under flood-lights.
Go back-packing across Europe.
Go watch an opera.
Get into a boxing ring for a bloody boxing bout, and break my nose (I'm serious)
Watch Federer beat Nadal in a Wimbledon match (Hon, you listening?!).
Have a killer bodice with rippling muscles and great ab packs.
Own a sports bike.
Go Scuba diving.
Climb a snow capped mountain.
Teach at IIM-B.
Fly in a MIG.
Tour a foreign city from atop a parachute.
Go on a long cruise.
Make an ad that wins at Cannes.
Get a body massage in Thailand.
Smoke the costliest Cuban cigar in a bath-tub, watching Friends.
Own a Blackberry.
Own a Mac.
Judge a beauty pageant.
Act in a movie.
Have my own syndicated column in a recognised paper/magazine.
Win a dance competition (Oh yeah, I can shake a leg or two!).
Learn to play Squash.
Visit the Louvre.
Dress up as Santa for my kids.
Master Logical Reasoning (I have my reasons)
Run in a marathon.
Learn how to swim.
Sleep on the beach, with the lapping waves next to me, and the huge blanket of twinkling stars in the top.
Visit Disney Land.
Get into a brawl with a total stranger and knock the living daylights out of him (only to prove to my girl that I'm not a sissy!).
Visit a chocolate factory (I have a sweeter tooth than most of Roald Dahl's creations)

These are all I could think of, off the top of my head. Will update this list as and when new things catch my fancy. More for me than for anybody else, and to ensure I take this list seriously, everytime one of those things on the list is achieved, I'll change the font of that wish to upper case. So here's to(me seen raising my champagne glass), MY BUCKET LIST...

St. Valentine and the art of sexual politics

2009-01-15T02:04:00.000-08:00

Gifts are funny things. When you are besotted with a problem as difficult as having to decide on the right gift for a loved one, your arse lets out a low whistle. For people who have no clue on what’s gonna make the recipient go, “Awwwwwwwww, what a great gift baby”; life can be torturous indeed. Valentines makes me shit bricks, as I usually have no clue on what’s going to get me those extra brownie points with my girl. True we share the same love for reading and books. But gifting her the literary version of ‘Gone with the wind’ every single time, will morph dimpled madame into one of those Stephanie Meyers vampires! Some food for thought that, given the fact that I’m the sissy between the both of us! So homing back to the dilemma of gifting, and with St. Valentine’s day inching closer (anyone ever wondered whether and how Valentine and Cupid are related to each other. And if they actually are a part of the same family tree that ate, spake and slept ‘love’!), I’m definitely not shitting what my tum’s been digesting.
I would like to believe that both Archies (the card store) and Valentine had an affair of some sort. You know, the ‘will-help-us-both-professionally-if-we-slept-together’ kinda fling. Let me not even speculate about the gender of Archies as that would open up a whole can of gay worms (‘gay’ as in ‘happy. Duh!) and halve my readership (if there’s any!). Anyways, they both saw the professional rhyme and reason to rip each others clothes off, and do ‘do’ it. They beget ‘Hallmark’ and said that their offspring was more conniving than them, when it came to ripping lovers off their money, come birthdays and anniversaries. Hallmark learnt the con act on his (or is it ‘her’?!) own, and pretty soon had a thriving business of his own. The parents now decided enough is enough and decided to stake their claim to the title of, ‘the world’s biggest loooooooooooove-fraudsters’. They faked orgasms regularly to give people the impression that they were doing it, not just on Feb 14th, but round the year. Lovey-dovey couples went “Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww”, and decided that they had found the right marriage (not in the ‘nuptial’ sense, but in a ‘sexual’ way) to eulogise. One thing led to another, and voila; I FOUND MYSELF IN ARCHIES, LUGGING MY SMIRKING TUSH BEHIND ME, IN SEARCH OF THAT RIGHT VALENTINE'S GIFT.
Last heard, both the con-sters (is that even a word?) were vacationing in the Caribbean. St Valentine with St. Nicholas (our beloved ‘Santa’, who else!), teaching him a trick or two about money-making and marriage (again the ‘sexual’ and not ‘nuptial’ one!). And Archies with George Bush (who’s like right now, wasted away in the Caribbean, moping over the end of his atrocious regime, and wondering how to serenade his dog as humans can’t stand him) to try and get him into bed. Carla Bruni was no muck with the sexual ball was she, as she’s inspired a whole legion of fans to hit on head-of-states and EX-head-of-states, and snowball into limelight. As for poor ole me, I’m still playing out this weird fantasy in my head, as I rummage through Archies' shelves, in search of that PURR-FECT gift. God be with me, in this moment of crisis!
Happy Gifting for the Valentine season, everyone :)

Who wants to be a slumdog millionaire?

2009-01-11T11:46:00.000-08:00

Slumdog Millionaire is an awesooooooooooooome movie. It’s been such a long time since I saw a really good Hinglish movie. And today night, between 11 and 1, I was witness to the sheer magic of this movie. The story as the name is suggestive, traces the life of this kid who’s born in a slum and ends up becoming a millionaire. The storytelling is so rich and so brilliant, that it leaves the viewer spellbound. Probably THE best Hinglish movie I’ve seen, like ever. Danny Boyle’s direction is brilliant. Rahman’s music and background score is goosebump-inducing. Dev Patel as the protagonist and his two younger parts are outstanding and simply, simply superb. Irrfan Khan and Anil Kapoor do justice to their roles.

The verdict: This movie’s beyond ratings. It’s a once-in-a-decade kinda Indian movie. Watch it, compulsorily.

P.S. the golden globe awards are gonna start in a few hours. I’m feverishly hoping Slumdog Millionaire wins in all the nominated categories, including the best movie.

miss you grandpa ...

2009-01-03T02:14:00.000-08:00

my grandpa used to maintain a diary, where he's poured out his heart and much more, for nearly half a century. from 1959 to 2008, every single day of his was chronicled in that diary. the people he met, the things they said, the things he saw, everything that he even remotely felt 'connected' to, went into that diary. August 2008 was his last entry as he got sick after that. a couple of weeks back, just before x'mas, my grandpa passed away. he was 75.

i was brought straight to my grandparents home from the hospital i was born in. i was brought up by my grandparents and i learnt to babble and crawl around, under their loving eyes. both my parents are bankers by profession, and it followed that my share of being doted on came from my maternal grandparents. my parents used to visit me every weekend, whilst i learnt my first alphabets and numbers from my 'ajji' and 'thatha'. my grandad was an incredible man. he was the only person in living memory who could talk about paris hilton and the vedas in the same breath. he taught me my first prayers. he opened up the fascinating world of 'books and reading' for me, when i was still a little bundle. he made me who i am, and for that, i'll always be grateful to him. he gave me a very rich childhood, a childhood filled with love, books, music and laughter. and that, i shall always count as my most cherished blessing, ever. he had chronologically filed all my articles that were published in the newspapers, meticulously, with a mention of the date and publication that it had appeared in. he had mentioned my birth on 4th may 1985, in his diary fondly as, "A baby boy was born today to my daughter. my first grandchild". he named me. he filled my existence with 'life' and taught me the need to yearn for a happy and zestful life. i don't think i'll even miss my parents more, than him.

there's this other hilarious entry that dates back to 1973, when my mom was in school. i guess she had lost her fountain pen that eventful day in school. his entry reads, "vasantha lost her fountain pen in school today. very CARELESS."! right from my first babble to my first crush, everything's been documented by grandpa in his diary. when they went to the US in 2000, he actually stayed up during the whole 22 hour flight from b'lore to new york, recording the cities they were flying over and the exact time then (both IST and the respective city's time). his memoir on his trip to the USA is both rich and exhaustive. every mention of an Indian restaurant they ate in, in the US, is followed with a review on the kind of gourmet that was dished out, and (believe this!) it's address mapped out to the exact longitude and latitude. one can feel him revel in the white house and general assembly experiences, as can one feel the rush he felt aboard the maid-of-the-mist when that boat went neath the niagara. his authority on art was phenomenal as he's talked passionately about a renoir painting displayed in the MET (metropolitan museum of art). i didn't know it took only 10 mins to fly from italy to vienna till i read his diary, as his diary reads, "5.20 a.m (IST) Italy. 5.30 a.m (IST) vienna".

he was the most knowledgeable man i ever knew, and i only hope i live my my life at least half as meaningfully and happily as him. i miss you grandpa.

react ...

2008-12-01T23:55:00.000-08:00

we at my work place are reacting and how. we have decided to do three things, first up, which we hope will answer at least some of the questions that we have been repeatedly asking the whole of last week.

1) the message wall: this is how our 'message wall' will work. we intend to distribute chart papers to people. this junta then gets at least 10 other people to voice their opinion on the how to combat terror and make our lives more 'secure'. the voices that are recorded on paper will then be plastered, verbatim, on a huge canvas (a hoarding is what we are looking at). we are in talks with all kinds of people, to make this hoarding see light of the day in at least some 'visible' parts of bangalore/mumbai.

2) 'vox pops', 'vox populi' or 'voice of the masses': shoot maadi and then send maadi. we encourage people to shoot on camera, what the junta thinks should happen from a governance/societal point of view, to make India terror free. we need candid insights, tough talking against politicos (swearing sans the profanity, if it is possible) and the how/what/why of 'combating terrorism'. these videos will then be sent to the news channels (we are 'again' in talks with the right people who will let us get past the red tape and 'actually' air these opinions).

3) an online 'youth' community: not just to dishum-dishum terrorists, but we would wan't this portal to moonlight both as an 'echo of the masses' and also as a 'confidante' one can turn to in times of distress. 'distress' could mirror anything from wanting to know how to access the 'right to information act' to how to get married in a registrar office (after hoodwinking your parents of course!). just a platform, an agony aunt, you can pour out all your grievances into and have them answered to the best of your satisfaction.

this is only the sapling that's being planted. what tree it grows into, only time will tell. what this sapling needs right now, is you readers watering it with your initiative and action. let's join hands to make this world a 'happier' place to live in.

they are in my fucking bathroom ...

2008-11-28T07:19:00.000-08:00

the media's the terrorist outfit that needs to be shot in that part of the anatomy where it hurts the most. "we are reporting from extremely difficult conditions", is what a glamly dressed reporter on a premier news channel had to say, on why the camera couldn't pan on a fresh wave of gun shots coming from the taj. what a load of heartless jerks. even ekta kapoor seems the more 'santised' version of these news thirsty leeches. all my 3 middle fingers (yup THREE) to barkha dutt and her entire band of ghastly men. all the news channels are playing the taj-horror like some 3 day cricket match. what the fuck. i'm tired of having to believe that barkha dutt is the reason all of us are still alive and kicking. i mean the woman makes it seem like she is the wonder woman whose being at the scene of mayhem has benefited mankind enormously. she cannot complete a sentence without making a mention of how she is covering this news segment against all 'fucking' life threatening odds. there are people still held hostage by god knows what kind of satanic brutes, and all that she has to overtly harp on in that nauseating i'm-putting-my-life-on-the-line-by-giving-you-lesser-mortals-this-news-feed smug tone, is the fact that SHE is covering it. fuck her and the news channel that has to send her for all the 'important and ghastly' terrorist attack/war/natural calamity coverages. fuck the media. fuck burkha dutt. i only hope, that the journalist who's holed up in the taj and whose last msg was a chilling, " they are in my bathroom", is ALIVE. it doesn't matter who's fucking interviewed and who's heroic 'taj' stories are replayed and celebrated. it doesn't matter how many politicians from the opposition will make mister prime minister seem like a man who's lost his genitals, and start baying for his and his party's blood. it doesn't matter which terrorist outfit has gone over to satan's side citing the name of 'god', and has unleashed this horror on all of us. all that matters is that the 'bathroom' journalist and many others who are still holed up in that taj are rescued and handed over with beating hearts to their families. because at the end of the day, all that matters is 'life' and the basic right of a man to live. all else be damned.

when giving is receiving ...

2008-11-26T06:37:00.000-08:00

my girl keeps pulling my leg with this one line that's never failed to put a smile on my face, the line being, "hon, your money is my money and my money IS my money!". she of course only says that to make me grin goofily whenever i'm my broody self. people keep asking me about how easy or difficult it is to be in a relationship. and i tell every single one of them the same thing, every single time, that US ('us' being my girl and me!) works because 'us' wants us to work. true we fight like all other couples do. true we don't mince words and true we definitely don't yell euphemistically at each other when we are crossing swords over a certain issue. but, at the end of the day, if either one of us doesn't tuck the other in, then it does feel kinda 'empty and hollow'(the thumb rule being, i stay awake till hon feels sleepy, read kafka even if my eyes are screaming bloody hell and wanna shut close, msg sweet nothings every now and then, and finally send a lovey-dovey-awwwwwww-thoooooooo-cute-msg tucking her in when she says, "hon i'm thleeeeepy"!). but honestly speaking, nothing's gonna work if in some cranny of your sub-conscious, there is even a hint of a doubt about 'wanting' to make the relationship work. you tide over the bad times because you know your heart inwardly glows everytime your loved one fondly ruffles your hair or nuzzles up against your shoulder in a movie hall. a relationship, much like one's career, is what you make of it. you have to work at it every waking moment (sometimes even during the sleeping moments, like mine!) of your life. the emotional horoscopes and the oh-we-both-think-alike factors are a distant second to the keep the cogs of a relationship well oiled. i'm no tom hanks and my girl's no meg ryan (my girl's a stunner, meg ryan doesn't even match up to her. as for me , i'm the bumbling-goofy-skater-boi that tom hanks can never be!). but we do wish wistfully that we still wrote to each other and made the Indian postal dept flex their rear muscles at least a lil, as we started off as pen pals.(although i do irk her every now and then by telling quite unabashedly that i fell for her only after i saw her! sigh! once a man, always a pig!). still, at the end of the day, a relationship is what you think it is. that to me defines the success or failure of a relationship. no other love gauge can even come close to telling what works and what doesn't in a relationship. at the end of the day, like the saying i have tweaked to pander my shallow self goes, ' everything's fair in love and love alone, even if you are waging a war (against your hormones!) for it' (now see, that's where the 'war' in the adage had to used. funny nobody ever thought of it before!). never mind!

Turns out, life's really unpredictable!

2008-11-23T00:38:00.000-08:00

Come tomorrow, I'll be starting my writing career at this agency called 'Origami'. I know it's 'news' because when my last post had happened, Ogilvy had happened. But WPP (the global advertising conglomerate that runs O&M) is on a hiring freeze. So I was only their bench-strength, meaning, if and when the global hiring embargo will be lifted (thanks to the recession!), I'll be given a look-in. Till such time that Sir Martin Sorrell decides to say, "let's hire", I won't be on the Ogilvy rolls. So I politely told them that I'll spend some time writing in this other agency that had also made me an offer. So that's about Ogilvy.

About Origami:
I'm really kicked about working at this place. This video on Origami that appeared on CNBC-TV18 a few months back should tell you people why I am really looking forward to tomorrow.

This part of my life is called 'Evolution'!

2008-11-12T17:15:00.000-08:00

I know it's been a long time coming, has this post. But so many things have happened in my life since the last post, that everything still feels like a surreal dream to me. Self praises first! i got a Writing job at my Atlantis. Yes people, yours truly is now a 'copywriter' at O&M-Meridian (self applause!). I was thinking of changing the puggy network, owing to the really bad and irksome service that the stub-tailed cuteness has been dishing out of late! But since, Ogilvy makes the Vodafone ads, i have no option but to stick to Cheeka (the pug's name, in case you folks haven't been following my ha-ha blog of late!). 6 months is all i spent at 'Servicing' in an ad agency (meeting the client, looking dapper in freshly starched formals, writing the creative brief, doling out Marketing gyaan on whom to, why and how to communicate what we intend to communicate. Basically the 'blah' and 'faff' of Advertising!). Now i get to MAKE those ads. And better still, I'll be called as a 'creative' henceforth and not as a 'suit'! What beats 'em all however, is the fact that i don't have to wear any(thing!) formals to work, ever! Yeah folks, i can pirouette in my night boxers and a body hugging worn-out tee for all i care and nobody's gonna tick me off (subject to the condition i deliver award-winning copy and ideas from time to time! no way others will be tolerant enough to stand my hopelessly weird quirks as long as i deliver what i'm being paid for!). Anyways as things stand, it's going to be another week of, to use Advertising jargon, 'understanding the nitty gritties of the client - understanding the pulse of the consumer - getting the creative team to park their arse down in the briefing room - dole out out swill and lecture them on Philip Kotler and other 'strategic' thought starters for the ad - and all this whilst they happily smoke to glory and wonder where i get all this unused energy from to dish out all that drivel'!. But a week hence, I'll be 'writing' all those ads you watch on the telly. So yay-yay and a double-somersaulty-fist clenched-whoosh to that :)

The creative director who interviewed me summed it up the best after i had been confirmed as a junior writer. I was standing near the HR's cubicle,furnishing all the requisite documents and stuff. When in walked this guy right into me. His opening remark was, "Hey! Vinay right? Heard you joined new. My name's A. Where you from?". My dazed response was ( Dazed coz I was still pinching myself to believe i had made it into Ogilvy-Meridian!), " You know, this other agency, where i was working as a suit" ('suit' is lingo for 'servicing' or 'brand exec' in ad-land). He looks at me all astonished and wide eyed and he's like, "Servicing to Creative, aye? Why the transition?". When right at that moment, the Creative Director who had given me the thumbs up only a few minutes back, walked past us, and said, with that wry grin etched matter-of-fact on his face, "EVOLUTION my dear. That's called Evolution!).

P.S: Thanks a ton Ram for getting me this interview. You truly rock man!

peek-a-boo !

2008-10-01T07:23:00.000-07:00

this entry owes it's existence to a friend who tagged me ... so more for novelty value than anything else, here are my answers...

1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?
Hmmmmmmmm ... I trust my girl more than I even trust myself. so betrayals and other hyperbolic melodrama can be restricted to ‘the bold and the beautiful’!

2. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be?
I’m living my dream. I’m in Advertising. Agreed my days are no thoft-fluffy-pillows-of-roses. but then, whose life is easy, aye?!

3. Whose butt would you like to kick?
I have always wanted to kick my 12th std chemistry lecturer’s butt into a pulp. course, I was a dick to have stopped studying after that one tight slap he gave me for having called a ‘beaker’ a ‘mug’! but even then…

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
If I have EARNED it by the sheer dint of my cerebrum, then I would want to be featured on ‘pimp my ride’ on VH1, complete with all the opulence and grandeur that money can buy. if I win it in a lottery or something, then, thorrrrreeeeeeeee, IT AIN’T MINE.

5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?
I fell in love with my friend. course, now she’s my best chum (not just because I have to say lovey-dovey stuff about her as she’s my girl. But more so coz she completes me like no body else does).

6. Which is more blessed: loving someone or being loved by someone?
I believe that loving somebody is akin to a ‘prayer’ and being loved by somebody is THE blessing anybody can ever be blessed with. love is sacrosanct. all other pretensions that one reads about in a Mills and Boon is a total farce. you are never in love if you are not gonna whisper sweet nothings to your loved one, like a prayer. love is ‘serious’ business, and frivolity in love seldom works.

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you love?
it’s not the wait the matters, it’s WHO you are waiting for that means more. I would wait for an eternity for my girl, and not just because some trashy Hollywood movie had the guy say that to his love interest. I would do it for a very selfish and primal reason- that there’s no LIFE without her . so more for my sustenance than anything, for sheer OXYGEN, I would wait an eternity for my girl.

8. If the person you secretly like is attached, what will you do?
Blow the other guy’s brains out! I don’t know. if both of them are happy being together, then I guess, swallow the pain.

9. If you could root for one social cause, what would it be?
Start my own ‘morcha against non-book-lovers’ campaign . I’m darn sure the person who tagged me on this questionnaire wholly empathises with this cause, and will join me in it (right girl?!).

10. What takes you down the fastest?
I hate it when somebody insults my intelligence. I’m not saying I’m god’s gift to mother Earth. but, when people say, “you CAN’T mate”, it sure does get my blood boiling...

11. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?
Not ‘where’ but ‘how’. HAPPY hopefully.

12. What’s your fear?
That when I become famous, I won’t able to sign enough autographs for my entire fan-legion!

13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
I have met tons of people from all walks of life who chase money, women, sport, art, pleasure for happiness’s sake. very few who chase HAPPINESS for happiness’s sake. Tripta belongs to that rare breed …

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?
Rather be ‘married to Divi-ORIGINAL-and-poor’ than be ‘single-pretentiously unoriginal-and rich’.

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
I pee (sure you folks knew what was coming. it’s not like I didn’t warn you!!)

16. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously who will you pick?
The one to whom I can ‘surrender myself to’ more.

17. Would you give all in a relationship?
ALL and much more.

18. Would you forgive and forget someone no matter how horrible a thing he has done? Yeah I guess so. I might seem the vindictive-full-of-adrenalin types. but when it comes to exacting my pound of the flesh, I’m too sweet to exact revenge no matter how much I have been wronged. yeah, I’m a sissy (Hon, you listening?!)

19. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship?
Hitched. life can get real lonely at times if you don’t have somebody who completes your sentences.

miss being a last bencher!

2008-09-16T19:07:00.000-07:00

it seems ages ago that i was caught msging in class ... i don't usually have to look at the keypad when i'm msging (being in a relationship necessitates that one become adept at doing things with eyes half-shut!) and i don't mean it in a bragging tone... i guess it was my marketing prof who chanced upon me feigning interest in class when my fingers were feverishly typing out msgs... after the initial volley of abuses (MBA lecs sure can scold!), and the whole charade of, "i'll confiscate your phone" trill, the lecturer went back to his Marketing-mumbo-jumbo ... i laid low for the rest of the class, but the 'catching-each-other's-eyes-and-winking' rigmarole continued right throughout the day... being a back bencher was fun... and not just because it was a vantage point from where one could direct mischief bordering on mayhem... it was fun, for the sheer ubiquity of being a back-bencher... i cannot recall ever having sat in the first few benches, EVER, right from my schooling years... and the things i have done sitting in the last bench, phew! ... here's a list of some of the bedlam i have inflicted on my environ from all the back benches that i have ever inhabited:

4th std: i had picked up this nasty habit of 'biting' people! ( i know, sounds urggggggggggghhh!)... anyways, this kid and i fought over some dumb thing... to avenge myself, i hatched up this glorious plan of sinking my milk teeth (i still had them, then!) into this poor kid's flesh, sitting in the last bench... one conniving meanie i was, even way back then!... fact remains, that this canine-victim of mine had to get an injection to negate the horrific aftermath of my bite... jeeez, i was nasty way back then!

5th std: learnt the usage of the F-word for the first time... again, only because i happened to be in the right place (last bench!) at the right time...

6th std: learnt how to copy during exams, thanks to the ingenuity of being a back-bencher...

7th std: was in the school cricket team... on match days, a handful of us in the class, who were in the school team, used to pile up our kit bags near the last benches... matches used to start later in the day, and we usually got in a couple of periods bef the school bus used to chauffer us to the play ground... i have spent more such early morning periods looking dreamily at all those kit bags and conjuring heroic cricketing images about myself :) ...

8th std: enter 'Playboy' ... need i say more!

9th std: knock, knock... who's there? ... peeping tom... peeping tom who? ... mr-voyeurist-vinay-himself !

10 th std: mix and match ... i studied in a co-ed school ... it was only fair that the last bench had a right blend of both boys and girls... like i said, i was no saint... and neither were the girls!

11th and 12th std: hardly attended as many classes to remember anything of note!

graduation: i have read a lot of my graduation-time-novels, lounging in the last bench... i went to a col that had students from Jordan, Sri Lanka and Mongolia ... exotic though it sounds, it was slim pickings, the opposite-sex-wise ... plus, had just started going out with my girl... hence the priesthood :)

post-graduation: probably THE best bunch of like-minded gits i got to spend academic life with ... sorely miss being an MBA-back-bencher ...

cut to the present where i'm sitting at office and typing this ... my cubicle is the last cubicle in the office... ours is a vertical assortment of cubicles and my cubby hole is the last in a series of questionably clean cubicles... hey, what do you know, life's not all that different, aye?!!

eena meena CHEEKA !

2008-09-04T07:56:00.000-07:00

In case you people are wondering why puggy 'cheeka' is the subject of my discussion, let me clear the air. cheeka has done what no celebrity worth his salt has managed to do. SELL A FUCKING PRODUCT. AND SELL IT BIG! celebs will come and celebs will go. but cheeka's gonna stay in our mindspace forever as the choo-chweeeeeeeeeeeeet-puggy that pawed it's way into our hearts like no animal on four legs ever did. the only reason i'm still a vodafone-loyalist is because of this affable stub-tailed wonder! for the record, cheeka was paid a whooping 1.5 lakh for an entire day's shoot when the first commercial was shot by Nirvana. the brains at O&M (my Atlantis) first thought of a little oshin-esque girl (my gran and me used to dutifully watch oshin kowtow on doordarshan, when i was a little bundle myself!) following her elder brother (the same boy) around. the thought stuck, but 'lil-oshin' made way for the now hugely famous 'cheeka' who hailed from london. hamaare puggy ka pai-daa-ish tha London main, aur tharakki ki usne India main (the usage of Hindi and the intent itself behind it was more for shock-value than for impressing. you ought to know by now my hapless readers, that I'm LEARNING HINDI!). anyways, lil cheeka became famous and the sole four-pawed bastion of a huge telecom major. atta boy, you rock :)

am i creative???

2008-08-26T07:36:00.000-07:00

Of late, every time i bump into somebody i know, or everytime my phone trills with a call from a friend, the first thing they say is, "oh! you are in Advertising? then you must be CREATIVE". meaning which, other bums doing other jobs for their physiological and self-actualisation needs are NOT creative? is that it? does me being in Advertising compulsorily translate to me being 'creative'? not that i'm not (so much for modesty heh?!). but when people from Advertising are stereotyped as 'creative' so emphatically, then the fact that there are tons of other people from different walks of life, who are 'creative' too, kinda fades into obscurity. honestly, 'creativity' is such an over-abused word in our social mileu, that to qualify as 'creative', the individual has to do something totally zany and unthinkable. like for instance, getting paris hilton to recite the gayatri mantra for say an anti-drug campaign, and equate purity of the mind (riddance from dope) to purity of the gayatri mantra, might qualify as 'creative'. but all that i did was take paris hilton (only because, i remembered my brother gawking at her last night on tv!) and the fact that she is constantly on the BAD side of the news (read adultery, dope and law-breaking), and REFORM her (hence the gayatri mantra). what's creative about the thought of wanting paris hilton to be a reformed soul whom you could take home to your mom (i know my bro's probably getting ideas reading this!). all that i did was paint a 'bad' picture 'good'. is that 'creative'? 'create-eve' is my fangled etymological explanation for the word 'creative'. with the creation of 'eve' was the creation of the world as we see it today. had she been the lovey-dovey types and faithfully stuck to not biting into forbidden crap, then she and adam would probably have been the only two living souls. she ate, got high (was vodka mixed in that apple?!), made out with adam, made kids and finally was responsible for that part of the genesis from where 'mankind' happened. so is that why 'creative' is 'create-eve'?! not to make this the last word on this topic, but somehow, everytime people say 1+1(you are in Advertisng + you have an ocean of raging hormones) = 111 (you are CREATIVE) is very, very farcical. i cringe when people say i'm creative (i'm randy maybe , crazy even. but 'creative' for creativity's sake, nope). creativity to me is 'creating' happiness. if hugh hefner wasn't creative enough to make bunnies out of women, none of those scrawny teenagers would have been happy. if Pele wasn't creative enough with his footballing skills, Brazil probably wouldn't have been talked in the same soccer-breath, that it is currently talked about in. creativity, is hence, to put it bluntly, 'creating happiness. period'. an ad is only a means to that end. nothing more, nothing less.

fun-questionnaire, ANSWERED !

2008-08-22T07:46:00.000-07:00

this is something that i read about in a friend's blog... had fun reading it, so decided that i might as well ANSWER it... so here goes, my version of answers to the fun-questionnaire...

1.What's your latest addiction? working late :)

2. What are you listening to? 'khudha jaane' from ranbir's latest flick... "hon, the movie was trash, but your whole 400 bucks was worth the ticket money for that one song alone" - as quoted verbatim by my girl.

3. How late did you stay up last night and why? reading 'metamorphosis' by kafka... was nearly 1 a.m before my girl msgd me saying, "hon, i'm thleeeeepy, will you tuck me in?", after which even me drifted off to thleeeeeeeep.

4. Who were you with last Friday night? had slogged my well rounded butt out for the whole week (mon-thu). knowing it would be an extended weekend and with raksha bandhan and I-day campaigns totally butchering me to put unheard of hours at work the whole week, it was welcome-BLISS, was the weekend... was with my girl... thought of that weekend still makes me grin ...

5. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? i'm hitched fellas...

6. When is the next time you'll see your close friends? tod's fri eve ... tom's sat which means my gang of croonies will meet up to discuss testosterone, turmoils and trashy jobs (p.s. i luv Advertising).

7. What were you doing this morning at 7am? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

8. What radio station do you listen to the most? that's one FREQUENCY i'm not glued to... i don't go radio-gaga, weird though it sounds ... hate all the mindless banter on radio when all that i crave for is just 'mujik'... radio stations 'talk' more and 'sing' less .... every f***ing self-confessed Radio jock makes me wanna fuck my own trip for having turned the frequency on...

9. What was the reason you last cried? DWA (don't wanna answer!)

10. What's the fifth text in your inbox say? come f*** my trip!

11. Where was the last coffee shop you went to? CCD ... my girl summed it THE best when she said, " i still fail to fathom why this place calls itself a coffee shop as the coffee here's the only thing which tastes un-coffeeish, ALWAYS"... i love you baby :)

12. What's your outfit right now? a dark blue body hugging tee and a pair of jeans that i have taken meticulous care to have it scream 'kewl' (gracias to the wonderful invention called a 'blade'!)

13. What were you doing at 11pm last night? was on a trnnnn-trnnnnnnnn

14. Who was the last person you talked to last night before bed? hon

15. Will you be driving in a year? hopefully ... i'm the only dickhead in my family (along with my chweeeeeeeet gran!) who doesn't know how to drive a 4-wheeler... mama knows, dad knows and granpa knows how to make the mean machines trundle... "dear granny, let us take up (a) a swimming course, (b) a driving course, (c) a Hindi speaking course, and show the rest of the family ki hum kissi se kum nahin! (crap! my hindi's already getting better!).

16. Is there anything that you are craving right now? hormonal talk... forbidden territory !

17. When did your last hug take place? all smiles, is me at THAT fuzzy thought :) ... jeez, like i'm gonna spill the beans on all the mush that happens in my life...

18. Have you ever started a sentence with "No offense, but..."? i'm in advertising people ... that phrase is, incidentally, to use ad-jargon, my TAGLINE !

19. Do you drink tea? wrong question again... when you've been in 'advertising' for as long as i have been, you even know how much a coffee bean weighs.... that's how passionate we are about coffee :)

20. Have you ever been arrested? if you are talking 'handcuffs', then maybe ... (an evil grin has just spread across me face!)

21. Have you rode in someone else's car today? nope, not today... don't rub it in, the fact that i can't drive a car ...

22. Have you made a mistake this past week? yahaaaaaaaaaaa ... what am i reporting to, a confession box???!!!

23. Who was the last person you texted? my girl

24. Are you happy with your life right now? happiness is a state of mind ... thus spake swami vinaya-nanda ...

25. In the past 72 hours have you been under the influence? am thinking about last night's ad-hoc party at a friend's place, even as i'm feverishly typing this text from office... sad but true, i do put in late hours at work ...

26. What's the connection between you and the last person you texted? both are in luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvvv :)

my true calling 'called' me, FINALLY ...

2008-04-25T06:57:00.000-07:00

i'm into Advertising .... saying that is like breaking through years of bondage and wading through aeons of slush before falling into lady advertere's arms :) ... it's like a part of me had totally switched off to the concept of 'life' coz i have never seen myself flex even a teensy professional muscle for anything other than advertising... and now that it has happened, it feels darn bloody goooooooooooood ... i have begged, hemmed, hawed, stuttered, spluttered, broken-down, cried, laughed-in-achingly-agonising-agony, been-sneered-at, ridiculed and just plain written-off by all and sundry ... but after overturning all my overtures, lady advertere finally yanked me into her fold... my girl summed it up THE best when she said, " hon, now that u're back where u WANNA belong, the bomb's ticking allrite" ... she meant it in jest, to make it seem like i'll be making clutter-breaking ads every second hour of my ad-infested-existence... whether i make it big or not, atleast i'm SMILING ... yes, i'm finally SMILING :) ...

i'm a 'kept man' ... and yippeeeee to that !

2008-03-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

it's been a while now since i have posted anything on me blog-space... that's coz urs truly was wallowing in self pity at not having received any favourable response from any of the ad agencies he's approached till date... the bottom line: things ain't happening on the work front... i would give both my arms off and my feet too for good measure, to be able to work for an ad agency...but after days of calling up agencies and asking whether they wouldn't mind interviewing this git, none of them have even shown the slightest bit of interest in my cv... it is very frustrating, especially when ur girl's landed a plush job with a reputed software company...i always joke around with my girl that the reason she's placed way before me is the reason our relationship's gonna last aeons... i mean, all the famous love stories that i can remember, have had the girl land a job way before the guy did... it happens in archer's 'prodigal daughter' where florentyna lands a job as a store assistant in a fashion boutique, whilst poor ole richard's scouting for jobs... it happens in erich segal's 'love story' when the bloke studies to become a lawyer for two yawning years whilst his better half runs the house... chandler does a lil jiggle in the hugely popular sitcom 'friends' when he's out of a job and monica pushes a dollar note into his outstretched hands and says matter-o-factly, "you are indeed my kept-man!"... what irks me most about job hunting is the fact that your prospective employer almost always rubbishes you off as another dim-witted moron, even before he's gotten the measure of you... i still have another three months to go before i can start to panic... companies are coming to our college, but none of them have even remotely interested me... bips is waiting for me to come and make her gyrate neath a h2o-fall... srk's getting desperate to have me work for an ad agency, especially now that he's got his hands full with cricket and 5th grade-wannabes... the k'taka poiticos want me on their side, now that the state elections are looming large and they need somebody prodigiously gifted at advtg to make them look 'to-for-and-by-the-people'... dhoni let his best chum have deepika only so that he could shoot more ads for me.... and his best chum ensnared deepika, well, to have me make 'em both chant 'youngistaaaaan' in chorus, albeit sans the traipsing-in-me-malfunctioning-towel ranbir... time's running out agencies, coz if you don't pick me out soon, then the celebs are gonna be miffed... not the right way to antagonise the very people around whom you weave dreams, aye?! as for me, my fingers are crossed and all that i can say in incomprehensible bewilderment is, "mera number kab aayega??" ...

i feel like GOD!!

2008-02-04T03:57:00.000-08:00

'goa' is probably the shortest state on the indian topography in terms of the number of letters it has ... but it sure has the largest populace of half-clothed homo sapiens whose hormones are hovering on a continuum of 'eternal high' ... i mean, the place screams out (G)irls, (O)pium and (A)lcohol through and through ... every brick of every wall of every house of every street has all the THREE of 'em flowing in abundance ... probably the only place i'm not gonna let my kids get a whiff of till they attain puberty ... like i said, the place is tailor-made to generate hedonism, through every grain of sand that the countless beaches there house ... dam-dam 'heady' my trip was... have been speaking like master yoda from lucas's den, ever since i have returned back from goa... to encapsulate my whole trip in one sand-grain, the trip was AWESOME... it was five whole days of undulating sand and lashing waves against the littoral shore ... time seemed to have stood still as we were out at the beach till 5 in d morn, totally sloshed, the lappin noise still ringing in me ear, and the faint remembrance of having been brought back to our lodge by a friendly samaritan, with urs truly happpppppppily high ... i forgot that i was at the fag end of a professional course... i forgot that i worshipped ayn rand... i even forgot that i write 'advertising' on all the notebooks, in the place where other people write theirs and their other-half's names ... i forgot them all ... all that i remember of my trip to goa is the sheer 'am-on-nimbus-number-niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine' sensation... i tanned like hell... but the grin on my face has just gotten wider... i am back from my first day in col of what's gonna be the last semester that i'll call myself a 'student' ... pretty soon i'll be counting greens and not the marks of any surprise xam... pretty soon, my dad's gonna say that he's 'MY father' and stop saying that i am 'HIS son' ... pretty soon, my granny's gonna stop reminiscing about my sordid past ( gosh woman, that was aeons ago that i flunked my 12th boards... and i was right about 'chemistry' being all about dudes-begetting-dudes/dudettes-with-dudettes... 'hydrocarbons' now that anybody can study and the reason my 12th boards spiralled outta control) .... pretty soon, prasoon joshi's gonna start playing all his computer games in my name... pretty soon, i'm gonna feel like god... naaaaaaaaaaaaaah, that one about me and god was lame and kitschy... but reverting back to goa-talk, if you folks have a week to spare and are not allergic to saline h2o, then my humble request is that please make a trip to this desi shangri la ... go goa :) ...

i am legend ?!!!

2008-01-25T00:07:00.000-08:00

no folks, me ain't no legend... the syllogism that vinay is legend, and that all legends r superheroes, which translates to me being a super hero is fultooo shit... what me meant was, that my taxin xam's over and that i didn't do half as badly as i thought i would... so cheerio to that... i'l be bangalored for 4 more days after which me and my gang of croonies head off to goa to get ourselves tanned... so yipppppppppeeeeeeee to that too :) ... companies are hovering around our col, but none of them seem to interest me... let's see how much more time before i can afford my own thongs ... n talking about thongs, what's this new found fascination with guys wearing their thongs on their sleeves... the brand name, from what i gather, is as much of a fashion statement as ur xteriors are... and flaunting the neckline of your thong and making it scream out 'peek-a-boo' is in-vogue... christ !!... makers of thongs have never had it so gud, well, thanks to the metro-sexual male... and what's all this hoopla bout the metro-sexual male... surely it's not a CLUB that the male fraternity has started with an inclination to show off their effeminate side... and even if being a metro-sexual literally translates to, 'come take a dekko into the brand of thongs my hips are supporting', how lame, coining a word for the syndrome and making it seem like being a part of the club is kewl... yapppaaa... last known, my hormones are still called 'testosterone' and i'm happy their nomenclature's not been tampered with... i'll try to get in a word on this space before i head off to goa for an entire week... till then, please use fair and lovely guys, coz even though i spewed all those vicious remarks against u folks, my bread and butter will hinge upon selling 'promises' bundled amidst oodles of hormones, to u unsuspecting gits... so, till i start selling 'dreams' then, ciaooo...

stark NAKEDNESS in my sky...

2008-01-16T08:55:00.000-08:00

before you folks start screaming out for the moral police to come down heavy on me and make me chew me words, i suggest you hear me out... the topic in question has nothing to do with wardrobe malfunction as the provocateur-title suggests... this thought first hit me when me went on and on bout making it big as an ad-man ... some of my friends just laughed in amusement at what they thought was another of my ha-ha-wisecracks... there was this bunch of naysayers who felt that the right side of my brain was clogged with all things GOOFY and that me would come a cropper... there was this other section of peers who volunteered the 'end-is-nigh' apocalyptic forecast for me, the minute i said i intend to afford my kids nappies, making ads... now there are engineers and there are engine-errs... sad they think it's me on the 'err-ing' line when all that i wanna do is make ads that people are gonna watch without having to reach for the remote everytime my creatives unfold on air... so that's a whole lot of nakedness that's ostensible from vinay's end... 'naked' coz there are no two ways bout taking a dekko into my gray matter and yanking out beads of thoughts whose follicles are rooted in anyhting other than 'advertising'... and for those of you who don't know the etymology of the word 'advertising', it stems from the latin word 'advertere' which means 'to turn to'... that's all the trivia me wants to junk my blogspace with as with all trivia, your readership halves itself like some inconsolable hydra that's hellbent on not multiplying itself... weird imagery, aye?? neways, my taxation xam's drawing closer and boy is it taxing or what... and for all those people who cannot fathom why me's studying tax policies when all that i wanna do is make bipasha basu gyrate neath a h2o-fall and shoot all my TVCs, my only spluttering riposte is, 'another semester folks before i fly into MY sky' ...

mr aamir khan, pls take a bow :)

2008-01-14T19:24:00.000-08:00

i sauntered into the movie hall for this movie, that's making all the right noises, a few days back... the movie of course being taare zameen par... and boy did it pan out 'wow' or what ... when the painter hanging precariously atop a sky rise building, mixes the glistening bucket of colours and splatters it across his concrete canvas, you are dumbstruck... dumbstruck with awe as blobs of paint nonchalantly spring out of his matted brush and land with magnificent plonks on ishant's face... the imagery i have just described, the description itself, doesn't do justice to the magic that this movie weaves... it has to be xperienced, period, the 'period' itself being a prelude to the many periods whence me's gonna say, tzp rocks... i have this one lecturer at col who thinks i write like dickens! now before you folks get all presumtuous and spank me well rounded bottom for committing literary blasphemy, let me tell you that this lady loathes me and that she meant it as an accusation... which me left me precious lil to ponder about, since she appeared to get this vicarious kick dickensifying me!! so vinay made a vow... he vowed that he's gonna dutifully pander her ego henceforth and use words that she can easily understand, without her having to fish for the shift-f7 key, much before she can cry foul and TWIST herself in unfathomable frustration, oliver or not! i have officially started sprouting muscles in the torso region, as my gym capers over the last couple of months have started yielding bulging results... for the uninitiated, i'm a second year MBA student, and i still have a couple of xams to finish before next week, after which i come a semester close to being able to afford my own fuel expenses or splurging on the latest paperback ... half my friends are already placed on campus, and me's still waiting for that 'creative' job that will hopefully come my way... i told mom, that the day i'l make an ad for gitanjali jewels or nakshatra diamonds, she's gonna be the muse... she just blushed, something my dad's been unable to get her to do for quite sometime now! life's rolling along gathering all kinds of hmmmm-inducing-moss and i only hope dickens will script me a story that's half as tragic and twice as adventurous as his literatti offerings are :) ... happy sankranthi to everybody who chances upon this blogspace of mine...

ta dah...!! unveilin the brown me, sans d LEXICON (?!)

2008-01-14T04:54:00.000-08:00

people keep calling me a lexicon... i told me mom the other day that the umbilical cord that held me strapped, in her cosy-comfy womb, for her entire period of gestation, must have been darn straining... i mean, from what people have told me, if my genotype had this weird helix of chromosomes that screamed THESAURUS, right through every inch of every strand, then i must have been a helluva heavy baby to carry! but mom did... and if she did it that effortlessly (oh oooh, that adjective incidentally, my dad's gonna vouch for that!) , then i see no sonorous rhyme or reason why people can't stand me for what i'm... it pains me when my wavy sexy hair goes unnoticed ... it pains me more when my 'wide splitting grin', tailor-made for the flash bulbs, gets no mention on me frens list of 'must-discuss-it' topics... but my occasional use of the word 'acrimonious', now that's splattered across the not-so-hallowed portals of me col... yamah, yabah, yapah... anyways, as things stand, me's not complainin so much bout the fact that my nomenclature's been tampered with... i might scream holy-sacrilege and for all i care, that just might be lost out amidst the pithy conundrum called, 'vinay's penchant for oxymorons' ... but enough of me blabber ... this blog's here 2 stay n this lexicon's not gonna go wasted, having been cooped up within the innards of me verbiose self, for quite some time now... my frens have been hollering for some real esoteric-cloud-nine-diction ( sad they think it's a disorder, is me verbal-babble!) ... but more than anything, it's coz someone very recently told me that writing's-damn-right-therapeutic... so here goes me new start to the new year... i'm writing and cheerio for that ... applaud people, i'l pay you folks by the clap if only you doffed your no-nonsense hat to me and me literary fare !! ciaooooooooo .......... n vinay, buddy, u better write right mate ... coz you of all the people ought to know that with you writing, the thesaurus is never gonna go wasted with your hapless readers!!