BBC Weather Forecast

see no evil?

If you ever visit a middle class housing complex in Delhi, one prominent thing you would notice is the roof-top rooms. These are little, single rooms built on the terrace, which they rent out to bachelors, and in some case, small families. I live in one such attachment.

It acts as an oven in the summers and a freezer in the winters. In the rainy season however, it acts as a water-tank. This is one reason I ring up my room-mate every thirty seconds on rainy days. Due to the lack of space and furniture, my computer sits on the floor. When it rains, water rushes in mercilessly, within its vicinity. My computer is slightly allergic to water making me very cautious during a rainy day.

Summers were ending and the fear of rain had started haunting me. Everyday I left for my office kissing my computer good bye. You never know when you will see that highly ‘radiating’ smile again.

As I was sitting in the office wondering about calling my room-mate, (who worked very close to where I live) just in case it rains, and tell him to stuff the gap between the door and the floor with a cloth of some sort to prevent the water from gushing in, a BBC weather forecast pop-up popped up in front of me. Bingo! Now I can make a schedule as to when I should call him up.

BBC forecasted a clear, sunny sky all week. However, since all good things should come to an end, it predicted heavy showers on Monday. So Monday it is. I had a pretty nice booze on Saturday at a friends place (on the BBC assurance), slept over there like a dead duck. On Sunday afternoon, I woke up to the sounds of heavy thunderstorms. Damn BBC!

I called up my room-mate. As luck would have it, he wasn’t home either. I did not have any modes of transport at my beckoning. I left it all to fate. Monday was warm and sunny. It rained heavily on Tuesday; that is today. So much for the very reliable BBC weather forecast.

How I became a copywriter...

Confused? Me? Never!

I had a troubled childhood. No, no, no, don’t you get any wrong ideas. My dad never beat up my mom, he never burnt my bum with hot iron rods, nor did I have a sister who had reasons to press charges on a number of issues. When I said I had a troubled childhood, I meant that I was a very confused child. My childhood spanned a very long time. The time from when I was born, to the time I was happily employed, that is now.

Many children when young want to be pilots, carpenters, truck drivers, dacoits and a whole lot of things which they never grow up to be. The first thing I ever wanted to be was my dad! I wanted to pull my son’s (my dad would be my son in return) ears for playing with earthworms, would like to scold my brother (something which my dad never did, and something I have always wanted to do) for crying too much while I watch ‘Jimmy and the magic torch,’ and a lot of such things only the elder is privileged to do. In our language we have a saying – ‘An elder can even shit in the stove.’ That is power for you ladies ‘n’ gentlemen.

My second ambition in life (speaking of which, I had plenty later on), was to become an oceanographer. I had to fight hard with my teachers while trying to explain to them what I wanted to be in the future. Simply because I did not know the term. “I want to go underwater and study about whales and giant octopuses,” I used to say. That’s weird for a fifth standard guy. (note the point that I was in the fifth standard, before I had my second ambition. I was never an ambitious man. I hated to even plan a few weeks ahead. This, also, wasn’t a properly framed plan; just that I wanted to say something when the teachers asked me; something to match my classmates saying stuff like, ‘doctor’, ‘engineer’, ‘scientist’ n all that.) I grew up, letting people around me take decisions for me and pave the way to my future. ‘Hey, I don’t have time for such trivia.’

It was after my tenth standard, while busy engaged in a game of cricket, that the big bad term ‘Future’ struck me. (I hate the word future except in the name of the movie – ‘Back to the future’ – one of my all time favourite movies, the trilogy) Hey, I had to do something. I asked Chandrakanth, who was fielding right next to me, the class topper, “What are you going to do?” “I am going to get into the same school and choose computer science option,” he replied. My future was decided for the time being.

I chose computers not just because Chandrakanth told me to, it was also because I hated biology. I never cared much for both the subjects, but I cared less for biology to such an extent that if I ever have a kid, I will send him to a school where they don’t teach him biology at all. I am ‘Biologiophobic’, probably because this was the first subject in which I came across a prominent character that would follow me till I left school – ‘Failure.’

Getting into the eleventh standard, or plus two section as it is popularly known, got a virus into every kid’s head, at least in our part of the country. They had two options in front of them, as distinct and as singular as ‘life n death’ or ‘devil n the deep blue sea’ – the tug o war was between ‘engineering and medicine. I got out of one of them by default, medicine, coz I had opted out of learning Biology. Now, I would by no means say that I was saved, nobody who has seen the engineering physics or math text ever would.

One year of coaching and a large amount of money was spent before I realized that I was not fit for engineering or rather(being egoistic), engineering was not fit for me. My dad though wouldn’t share the same realization. I had to make an excuse. My excuse came in form of one Ms. Elizabeth Varghese. She put in front of me an option, the door to freedom and luxury, in the form of a law degree, wherein I did not have to know much of mathematics, physics and all that. Cool, I wanted to be a lawyer. A good score in English, and a decent knowledge of things around me, got me in a prestigious law school in our state. Hey, where is the twist? Patience is a virtue. One month from then, I was sitting in a place that closely resembled an ashram, and studying computer science.

Speaking of computer science graduates, all they ever want to be is an MCA holder. I was no exception. No tension about future for three years. Two years into the course and I had a sudden change in plans; a cry from the Oracle which told me to join for a Business Administration program. Now what did I know about business, do not ask. Apart from tricking my friend into buying a post card worth 2 bucks for 50 bucks, I have never come close to what I can call – Business. With that experience to back me, I decided to be a business chap. (To tell you the truth, Java and VC++ were eating my brain as if they were competing against each other.)

You must be thinking that this guy is finally settled, decided what he has to do. Let me wish him all the best. Wait! Don’t you dare do anything of sort. I have just seen a couple of brochures and realized that during an MBA, I will have to encounter one of my childhood phobias – Math. No, not again. (This was one of the many occasions when I strongly abhorred the Indian educational system. A person is not allowed to learn what he likes; things are being imposed on him; it is time for a revolution; and then I woke up.)
What do I do now? I am stranded for sure. I have been one real client servicing guy convincing my dad about this n that n this n that. Now what?

Page 112, MAT brochure, Program in advertising…there lies my answer. No math, no physics, no science. Fun all the way. My future has taken a safe stance once again. It is to be noted that I had never seen an advertising agency(I might have seen it, but not realized it was one), leave alone the formation.

New college, new friends, new inspirations and new SENIORS; hence – ragging. ‘What do you want to get into, ’asked a senior. “I love writing,” said I without realizing that I had just made my career. My senior replied without even bothering to wait for my second sentence, “So you want to be a copywriter.”

That is what I am, guess that is what I will be for the rest of my life. Let us see, I might just bump into a sports journalist someday and …

Interview - one of its kinds

david 'n' goliath

I was trembling when I stood in front of Alvin Saldanha, the National Creative Director, of McCann Erickson India. What provoked the fear? Was it the feeling of being unemployed mid way into January or was it sheer respect for the man, till date I do not know.

He hardly had opened my ad portfolio(something which every copywriter had to treasure more than his balls) and I was wiping the sweat of my brows. The ice had grown thicker than that block which toppled Titanic. Silence echoed the loudest.

One of the ads in my folio was that of NGC. It had a visual of tortoises mating in the conventional position. The headline read – ‘from where they meet to where they mate.’Alvin turned around. “The story of my life kid. Every time I hook up with a chick, she has a shell on.” The ice broke with a series of earth shattering laughs. From then on it was a joy ride.

Alvin briefed me on the rules of the agency. A few of them were:
1. Never light a joint before 8pm
2. Never watch porn without sharing it with your superiors
3. Never have sex in the office without the lights switched on
4. No sleep
5. No luxuries
6. No girlfriends
‘Excuse me sir,’ I interrupted. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Alvin stood up, put an arm around my shoulder and said, “Oh, so you are not privileged with a sex life. Do not worry son. We will give you a sex life. If you don’t do your stuff on time, we will screw your black ass, right left and center.” The point was put across very clearly.

All this jazz apart, I was in. I was in one of the top five agencies in the world after a string of abuses and a healthy folio. I turned around, thanking everybody to head home and party. Unfortunately for me, I had shown Alvin, some of the films I had made.As I was walking towards the exit I heard Alvin shout. “Fucker, you were showing me some movies eh? Let me see what you have got. Write a film for Nestle.” The whole world fell apart tumbling in front of my eyes as I heard him say that. First day in an agency, 26th of January, a National holiday, our dear old Republic Day, friends partying at Saket, and I was writing a film for Nestle.

God help advertising!

Ironic, isn't it?

ironic!

Q: Which is that one term which surpasses all the ironies around you?
A: Unbeliever.

The term is used mercilessly by the Christians to identify anybody who doesn’t believe in the myths and prejudices formulated at Vatican.

Many of you would disagree with me if I tell you what I feel about it. A person who chose not believe in something he hasn’t seen or felt being branded, by a bunch of people who believe in something which is intangible in its superlative form, as an unbeliever! Isn’t that the most ironic thing you have ever come across?

I am just putting my thoughts on paper (e-paper). Arguments and abuses are not welcome. This post isn’t posted with the intention of sparking up any controversies. I felt so, hence I wrote so. That is it. Amen (now that should be comforting).

Heat wave...

hot! hot! hot!

It was 8 p.m. at night and I was shouting out abuses at the top of my lungs to a very perplexed Hyderabadi room mate of mine. Every night, apart from my cigarette and a visit to the toilet, watering my mattress (YESSS…U HEARD ME RITE!) has also become routine work. You get some solace out of the fact that you can sleep on the terrace at nights. Delhi has answers for that too. I have just caught up with my sleep and at around 3 a.m. in the morn, a time when the greediest of thieves are sleeping, a trickle of rain. I pick up my bag n baggage n run in.

Fortunately for me, it did not rain yesterday. I had a sound sleep on the terrace. An interesting fact about the terrace which I forgot to mention; this most coveted piece of concrete during late evenings, can toast you into delicious human kebab in the mornings or afternoons!

In the mean time, my neighbour, a worn out Delhiite, tried to console me. Her words of consolation were more of an intimidating statement than anything else. "It is absolutely okay. It is the Loo(the hot wind from the Thar desert) that is going to be the worst part of the summers." Yeah right. If this is not bad, Loo sounded fatal. It seems, during the Loo, there will be heavy sandstorms, literal heat-waves; there will be simultaneous rain and hail. Wonderful isn’t it? Simply put, lying on a frying pan under an ice shower.

Indian constitution is supposed to have been made by picking the best from all the other constitutions. Delhi seems to be a stark contrast. It has the worst of all. It takes in the burning sand storm from Rajastan during the summers;( can’t disappoint winters right?) during the winters, freezing winds from Jammu blows in to make lives miserable. Pardon me for wondering whether I am on Earth itself. This is unheard of, some kind of punishment for some godforsaken thing I did in my previous birth, if there ever was one.