It was tiring, I had heard too many wholesalers' woes for the day....i guess the next time I go to the market, its better to carry feedback forms with drop boxes...atleast I couldve saved the ubiquitous BCs and MCs crowning their tales of woe.... as my subordinate looked at me with a sigh of relief that the day had come to an end, I gave him the chutti to go home and postpone the meeting...the last thing I wanted was to have my distributor also complaining of stock-outs...as i called it a day, Kamal, my faithful driver zoomed his filthy Indica into the Hotel Sarovar Portico - the one on top of a mall called the Treasure Hunt in the city of Indore...two years back I was impressed with the place..not any more..it was like a graveyard where two tiny tots guarded the entrance and gave me an instant recall of Kabristan Ke Chowkidar courtesy Jaspal Bhatti ...their arms would move automatically and open the doors while the heads would bend ~ 18 degrees while they stood in a trance looking at something far away as if blessed with clairvoyance...this was perhaps the 20th time I was staying in the hotel and I couldnt help noticing the sheer repetition of the act ..perhaps they were trying to give me a message from Satan..or just trying to crap me out...I was now trained to aviod their eyes and rush into the lift...A quick change into a kurta and jeans saw me out of the hotel and into the mall...it was the most happening mall in Indore...they were kids jumping on Ronald McDonald..a crowd trying to get their cones of softserves while it was still at ten bucks...there was a huge chunk of school guys in sweaters generally loitering around and in the process ensuring the mall owners getting a more than 100% return on investment on the escalators...as i moved om, a girl quietly giggled to see my patch goatie...atleast thats what I thought she was finding funny...I gave her a slight stare and the girl would giggle some more...I felt I could be looking like a butcher... I stopped.. enough insult for starters...
...while I closed onto my destination on the 3rd floor...I could catch a glimpse of a bunch of gals...more like school kids in embroidered jeans laughing while they walked past and while they breezed past filled with some strange cologne ( it might be called Dolly - the cologne I mean), and then something unexpected happened... I heard the words .."ya ofcourse, Im not a virgin"...I froze..not that I havent heard the word before and nor am I used to seeing virgins everywhere....but perhaps my job had left me listening to more about stock delivery times and damaged goods than generally eavesdropping on the youth talk...on second thoughts .. I might have just imagined it.....maybe she had siad something like "ya ofcourse, Im not gonna barge in"..but how the hell can I imagine it just like that...maybe I was turning deaf...I have heard rockstars go deaf after a while...well..I wasnt a rockstar..just an amateur musician at best...and Beethoven had turned deaf as well.....but he was surely no Phil Collins...that was that...I turned to see the face of lost childhood...all I could see was a head vanishing down the escalator.... (to be continued)
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Closer to God
It was ten minutes past seven in the evening while I was working on my laptop in a plush hotel in the sleepy town of Bhopal. The monotonous resonance of the air conditioning in my room was the only noise interrupting the clicking of the keys on the laptop keyboard. There was but another sound. It started very faintly but it was giving me gooseflesh. From far off, as if from the other side of the hills of Bhopal came a high pitched but soft chant of Allah – hoo- Akbar. As it gained amplitude, I could feel the cold of inside the room for the first time, more so in my toes. When I looked from the wooden doors of the balcony, I felt as if the heavens were chanting the prayer. I could feel God for a moment and I closed my eyes just to hear the heavens.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Nostalgia revisited : 2nd class
I missed the train. How could one miss a train standing on the right platform at the right time with a confirmed reservation… perhaps if one doesn’t have the physical ticket in his hand? Thanks to the ticketing agent who in a very planned manner reached the station five minutes after the train had comfortably ambled past me. Sometimes I curse my anger, which at times, doesn’t come at the right time. This was one such time and I saw the guy with a non-apologetic grin. Why didn’t I feel like bashing him?
I had stood there fuming. I hated being given a raw deal, and well, who doesn’t. So it had happened and here I was standing at the platform watching the big yellow X mark behind the last compartment of the train getting smaller and smaller and slowly disappearing into oblivion as I saw my chance to reach Ahmedabad early withering away.
I hadn’t been to Ahmedabad city since I’d left about 14 years back. 14 years was a long time. I could hear the song “14 years” by Guns n Roses starting in my mind and I knew it was sure to stay till the end of the blog. Well, a missed comfy AC chair car had gone and left me the option of taking the next train where my only way to grab a berth was to bribe my way into the 2nd class compartment of the next train.
As I entered the compartment, I suddenly felt a tang of nostalgia. I had been to this place before, perhaps many times. Just that as I stood looking at the 2nd class compartment, it seemed much smaller. I could easily manage to get on the top berth without climbing those iron squares where as a kid I used to hang around like a monkey. I wondered as I sat, about the past which I had forgot many times over. When was the last time I traveled 2nd class? Not on the job for sure, I would snub even the thought of train travel in a non-AC compartment below my dignity. Not during my MBA or Engineering either, dad wont hear of it. AC compartments are much much safer, he would say and would make sure I take the prescribed safer and more comfortable route. But as I sat I remembered ,as a kid, so many of my journeys through this magnificent 2nd class. And why magnificent? Wasn’t it great the chatter of so many people. So many vendors of tea, coffee and other sweet meats crossing you and all of them looking exactly the same with a similar tone and pitch of voice soliciting for a sale. Where was I all these years and why didn’t I miss this before, I thought.
And just then, the guy on the topmost berth asked me to switch off the light and I moved those thick joy-stick like buttons which as I kid, loved to switch on and off just to hear the noise of and would then in vain, try to balance those buttons in between to confuse them whether to switch on or remain switched off. When there was silence, the noise of the fans would make me feel homely and relaxed. It was dark and I couldn’t see the tracks. When sitting near the window, I remembered, my eyes would always follow the tracks, and they seem to be competing with the speeding train, running along as long as my eyes were fixed on them and then quietly opting out as soon as the eyes were lifted. I wanted to do it right now as I helplessly groped for them in the dark.
It was getting a little chilly as the old lady sitting next to me bought another packet of peanuts from the vendor and split open the plastic to spill some on her saree which soon were hen pecked disappearing into her mouth. At times , I feel the ones which fell from the packet were much tasty, more cherished. They were like Gods own children which were special and kept by Him away from the crowd and to be considered worthy of seeking and pampering.
The train jerked slightly and the bottle hanging on the grayish hooks brushed my head as if to remind me that I was forgetting them on those ancient hooks. I felt like a story teller writing about these little things as if they were alive and reading this blog. I wouldn’t have been surprised if another jerk would have made me touch those omnipresent steel bottle stands which were staidly fixed nest to the stamped seat numbers.
I wondered if I had ever noticed so many things as a kid. And as an adult I again wonder if I could recollect so many wonderful times I had spent traveling through this mode of a common Indian. It made me feel so good and proud of not thinking of my supposedly high-flying job which had made me forget the commonality I had once shared and for the time being again cherish the beauty of being a common Indian.
I had stood there fuming. I hated being given a raw deal, and well, who doesn’t. So it had happened and here I was standing at the platform watching the big yellow X mark behind the last compartment of the train getting smaller and smaller and slowly disappearing into oblivion as I saw my chance to reach Ahmedabad early withering away.
I hadn’t been to Ahmedabad city since I’d left about 14 years back. 14 years was a long time. I could hear the song “14 years” by Guns n Roses starting in my mind and I knew it was sure to stay till the end of the blog. Well, a missed comfy AC chair car had gone and left me the option of taking the next train where my only way to grab a berth was to bribe my way into the 2nd class compartment of the next train.
As I entered the compartment, I suddenly felt a tang of nostalgia. I had been to this place before, perhaps many times. Just that as I stood looking at the 2nd class compartment, it seemed much smaller. I could easily manage to get on the top berth without climbing those iron squares where as a kid I used to hang around like a monkey. I wondered as I sat, about the past which I had forgot many times over. When was the last time I traveled 2nd class? Not on the job for sure, I would snub even the thought of train travel in a non-AC compartment below my dignity. Not during my MBA or Engineering either, dad wont hear of it. AC compartments are much much safer, he would say and would make sure I take the prescribed safer and more comfortable route. But as I sat I remembered ,as a kid, so many of my journeys through this magnificent 2nd class. And why magnificent? Wasn’t it great the chatter of so many people. So many vendors of tea, coffee and other sweet meats crossing you and all of them looking exactly the same with a similar tone and pitch of voice soliciting for a sale. Where was I all these years and why didn’t I miss this before, I thought.
And just then, the guy on the topmost berth asked me to switch off the light and I moved those thick joy-stick like buttons which as I kid, loved to switch on and off just to hear the noise of and would then in vain, try to balance those buttons in between to confuse them whether to switch on or remain switched off. When there was silence, the noise of the fans would make me feel homely and relaxed. It was dark and I couldn’t see the tracks. When sitting near the window, I remembered, my eyes would always follow the tracks, and they seem to be competing with the speeding train, running along as long as my eyes were fixed on them and then quietly opting out as soon as the eyes were lifted. I wanted to do it right now as I helplessly groped for them in the dark.
It was getting a little chilly as the old lady sitting next to me bought another packet of peanuts from the vendor and split open the plastic to spill some on her saree which soon were hen pecked disappearing into her mouth. At times , I feel the ones which fell from the packet were much tasty, more cherished. They were like Gods own children which were special and kept by Him away from the crowd and to be considered worthy of seeking and pampering.
The train jerked slightly and the bottle hanging on the grayish hooks brushed my head as if to remind me that I was forgetting them on those ancient hooks. I felt like a story teller writing about these little things as if they were alive and reading this blog. I wouldn’t have been surprised if another jerk would have made me touch those omnipresent steel bottle stands which were staidly fixed nest to the stamped seat numbers.
I wondered if I had ever noticed so many things as a kid. And as an adult I again wonder if I could recollect so many wonderful times I had spent traveling through this mode of a common Indian. It made me feel so good and proud of not thinking of my supposedly high-flying job which had made me forget the commonality I had once shared and for the time being again cherish the beauty of being a common Indian.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Sammy!!
I checked my watch again as i zoomed my faithful Maruti800 in the parking lot of Dr. Ambedkar Bhawan only to meet a formidable army of mercs, fords and other higher varieties of automobiles which i had forgotten existed any longer, since i saw them in the trump playing cards at skool.
The occassion?
A play by Lillette Dubey being staged, play called "Sammy!!"
The time was 7:20 , and i heaved a sigh of relief to be on time, as the people looked at me and wondered to see what a Maruti800 was all about, perhaps it was some sort of a homemade car with grandmother's recipes. Anyways, i managed to put on some basic attitude and ran up the stairs (the lifts were jam packed with girls, women and ladies..in that order..of all shapes and sizes, and even if i had shameless tried to jam in, the noxious fumes of exotic perfumes would have killed me sooner than later)..so i decided to hit the stairs.
My decision helped me survive for some time, till i hit the first floor and saw the celeb world open in front of me, there were people and then there were people. i dint know any. Once, i thought i recognized a lady, but all of them looked so similar, i stopped wracking my memory cells and stood in a corner to observe the commotion. there was a lot of talk... about the play? i doubt....there were guys, hmmm....divided roughly into three brackets..the normal , the abnormal , and the supernormal...unfortunately, the first grid hardly had any one except me ( i reserve the right to slot myself, as the writer of the blog), the abnormal..hmm....there were school children....guys who had just entered 11th standard (measured by their moustaches and dressing sense - shirts with jeans and a black belt), guys who had just joined a college, ..wearing new nike shoes with some t-shirt with funky messages, gelled hair, and yellow teeth) ...but the majority of gentry was stacked in the category of the supernormal; a brief description:
- men between 35-72
- sexually frustrated, married to nagging wives and fathering ill-mannered kids
- having IQs below 41, rich, wealthy and powerful
- drinking and bathing with expensive perfumes (shucks....i could puke)
- having all possible credit cards with obnoxious credit limits in leather wallets
- white shoes (hehe..), with brown trousers and red shirts with the top button open allowing their chest hair to show beyond the limits of physical primitivity
- flirting with any and every other women (from kaam wali bai to blonde babes)
Surprisingly, though the fairer sex was present in much more motley shades and oozing fashions, there descriptions would not be spread again the categories. The observations were so starkingly uniform , they would send any market research analyst into terrifying tailspin. The co-relations were amazingly similar. As usual, the description:
- Most having strands of white hair,or dyed hair, coloured hair, discoloured hair, horse hair and the like.....
- Thick layers of lipstick ( no wonder i lost a bet with my friend, when i thought that the market for lipsticks in india was limited)
- Talking about something, God knows what , laughing at their own jokes, and slighly brushing their arms and shoulders with the guys/men of the third category as if signalling the cracking of a joke.
- Revealing cleavages (for those in sarees), short skirts (for those in skirts)..overall : "helpless attire"
- I had stopped looking at them
It was 7:47 by my watch and the play hadnt started as yet. I sat down. Many women sat down. They hadnt thought of it before. I grinned only to see a 73 yr old woman staring at me (how 73?..i bet she was greater than 70 ans less than 75). I stared back as i had nothin to do, and she lost interest.....borrrrring!!!...
The gates opened...and she got up and blocked the gate, taking a few turtle steps and landed in her place...i checked my ticket and sat at an arbit aisle seat i could find...far from the madding crowd...
...the play commenced @ 8pm sharp...we were as usual requested to switch our bloody mobiles..we obliged....except the gentleman at the leftmost corner who was having a teleconferencing on how the indian economy would benefit if reliance was to go global, and how good he was at chess with the white set!...finally, after a few stares and louder-than-usual groans he had to silence the talk which could have added a few billions to india's GDP.
The play was on Mahatma Gandhi, and ofcourse the conventional freedom struggle (which i came to realize at the end of the play) ...The cast as was being announced had some dude playing as MK Gandhi, and another gentleman playing the role of Mahatma ...i guessed the existence of anter-atma was there in the play..and i was right...
The actors were good!
The gentlemen playing the britishers were really wonderful. Infact they could have give the real british blood a run for their money. But there was a bit of problem.
The guy playing "the mahatma" looked like .... L K Advani...ya ..serious!!...no kidding...and he giving tips on dharma and karma to Gandhiji couldnt fit my historical and political schema...it was so funny!...and i think he had a stiff body and a stiffer back...i guess i gave a slighly louder laugh on thinking about the same without realizing...a few heads turned and i realized that the topic of jalianwala bagh was going on...which was no laughing matter...another few moments of historical repetitions were repeated...and we had reached an argument between Jawaharlal Nehru and MA Jinnah....man, Jinaah was huge and for a moment i thought Gandhiji should not intervene between him and Nehru, as our Jinnah was physically quite capable of smashing both their heads together...
...sorry for sounding so violent and insulting....but its so difficult to control what your mind thinks and what your eyes see!...well...another question, why was Mr.Nehru having an accent which would put Julius Ceaser to shame....at times i thought he was addressing me (as i was sitting on the second last row)...and perhaps his only defence againt the 6'2" Jinnah....well, that was that...
...all this while there was some sort of distraction from the last row..a couple of middle aged women sitting behind me....after every word of gyan advani...i mean...mahatma would say...they would start clapping..and say," He was a great man!"...i was impressed by their devotion...
.....it was 9:00 and i had heard that mahatma was a great man almost 8 times now...i was getting restless...not that i was feeling jealous that i wasnt great enuf...but then every five minutes my ears would start anticipating the words, and would get irritated if they were not spoken...
Intermission! ...sigh of relief!...women got up....took out hair brushes from their respective bags, a couple who passed by my seat were talking about how spotted red bikinis were a rage in Goa this new year...i wasnt impressed ...expecially when just five minutes back Gandhiji was assiduously spinning the charka and advocating something on swadeshi, etc....
I moved out to get some fresh air..but there was none....the chainsmoking ladies were smoking circles out of their facial chimmneys...i hit the loo, to find some solitude...and returned back to my seat...the play started...act two...the announcer said something...but before she could say anything the ladies interrupted her, " He was truly a great man!"...and I almost pulled my hair. ...I was lying there helpless for till the hour of india's and my independence....
...and i could see some people moving out already...where they were going ...i couldnt care..perhaps another one of those rich social gatherings where they could drink booze, smoke cigs, talk about taboos, get laid in loos and go home feeling satisfied with the days socializing!!..
...as the show came to end, and the actors gave a customary bow...lilette quickly appeared on the stage....to stop the exodus, claim her love for bangalore city and the audience, how she loved to perform ,etcetra...i could still hear her speak as i rushed to the door..and fresh air rushed towards me....God, what pretence!!!
A friend asked me how the play was. I couldnt describe it. I thought for a while and said,"I feel free".
Monday, January 30, 2006
Branded...or...stranded?
The last one year has seen the rise of an amazing bunch of small FMCG players who were, till now satisfied with subsistence.
Companies like Dabur have been curing spoiled stomachs for ages poppin Hajmolas, Marico advocating some slimy oil to the regular housewifey junta and teen babes and ending nowhere but losing market share. But what has been happenin in the last couple of years. There is a wave of self-confidence amongst these brands which talk of nuthin but below the line branding, not scared to dent the massive manowars like HLL.
They seem to be following one simple thing which needs, perhaps a basic knowledge of business.
"Selling what the customer wants". If i say these words in a forum audienced by my own friends, i wont be surprised if i hear yawns and groans. Perhaps, some rebel might just stand up and say" Dude, give me something real, no gas please". And i wont oppose him. Cause he is not wrong, but lets see how I believe i see the scenario.
Ever heard of a company call Paras? The one that makes milk. Ok. Give me any one brand you know of from the house of Paras ? Think...
Lets check our brand recall. Of the following brands how many do u think u know or have used:
1. Krack Cream
2. Set wet
3. Moov
4. Recova
And what do they signify.
Which cream was present for cracks in ur feet before Krack Cream "arrived" ?
There are lots of hair gels present in the market. What accounts for Set wet to be the fastest growing hair gel in the country?
Moov has replaced Iodex as the preferred brand for back aches?
What Im trying to say (or rather ask) is that the focus of the company has been so sharp and transparent, that in some big FMCG, while i may sit and use some hazaar market research fundas to justify some gap in the customer profile, after spending millions , I would just conclude that the market served is too low to support a brand (or in jargonized language, no justification for RETURN ON MARKETING) . But then how come these companies who started out as ants trying to reach the elephant's ear are now, at the least, breathing down their necks!!
Its just a simple phenomenon i would call "Selling with open eyes". No great shakes here, but if my friend wants a yellow submarine, or say, a transparent shoe or some supposedly weird thing like a pair of jeans without zippers!!...why not give it to them...but the catch , focus, focus and more focus on what the shoe of the jeans convey to the consumer...
...what did ya say? no one's gonna buy it...or perhaps im the only one whos gonna go for it..i dont know...but the greatest advantage for mankind is that brands are manmade (including God ...for we are supplied with different types of Gods as is comfy for different religions) ....and the power to twist the brand to suit the need lies entirely in the hands of the brand manager ( i would rather call him a brandsman) .. and hence God, as he doesnt play dice..has left everything to man's moulding...just that some brandsmen have gone and done what everyone was waiting someone might do....and some others have been branded out into oblivion.
Companies like Dabur have been curing spoiled stomachs for ages poppin Hajmolas, Marico advocating some slimy oil to the regular housewifey junta and teen babes and ending nowhere but losing market share. But what has been happenin in the last couple of years. There is a wave of self-confidence amongst these brands which talk of nuthin but below the line branding, not scared to dent the massive manowars like HLL.
They seem to be following one simple thing which needs, perhaps a basic knowledge of business.
"Selling what the customer wants". If i say these words in a forum audienced by my own friends, i wont be surprised if i hear yawns and groans. Perhaps, some rebel might just stand up and say" Dude, give me something real, no gas please". And i wont oppose him. Cause he is not wrong, but lets see how I believe i see the scenario.
Ever heard of a company call Paras? The one that makes milk. Ok. Give me any one brand you know of from the house of Paras ? Think...
Lets check our brand recall. Of the following brands how many do u think u know or have used:
1. Krack Cream
2. Set wet
3. Moov
4. Recova
And what do they signify.
Which cream was present for cracks in ur feet before Krack Cream "arrived" ?
There are lots of hair gels present in the market. What accounts for Set wet to be the fastest growing hair gel in the country?
Moov has replaced Iodex as the preferred brand for back aches?
What Im trying to say (or rather ask) is that the focus of the company has been so sharp and transparent, that in some big FMCG, while i may sit and use some hazaar market research fundas to justify some gap in the customer profile, after spending millions , I would just conclude that the market served is too low to support a brand (or in jargonized language, no justification for RETURN ON MARKETING) . But then how come these companies who started out as ants trying to reach the elephant's ear are now, at the least, breathing down their necks!!
Its just a simple phenomenon i would call "Selling with open eyes". No great shakes here, but if my friend wants a yellow submarine, or say, a transparent shoe or some supposedly weird thing like a pair of jeans without zippers!!...why not give it to them...but the catch , focus, focus and more focus on what the shoe of the jeans convey to the consumer...
...what did ya say? no one's gonna buy it...or perhaps im the only one whos gonna go for it..i dont know...but the greatest advantage for mankind is that brands are manmade (including God ...for we are supplied with different types of Gods as is comfy for different religions) ....and the power to twist the brand to suit the need lies entirely in the hands of the brand manager ( i would rather call him a brandsman) .. and hence God, as he doesnt play dice..has left everything to man's moulding...just that some brandsmen have gone and done what everyone was waiting someone might do....and some others have been branded out into oblivion.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Try n try till u fail....
...an unfortunate incident happened...i read the newpaper yesterday...it killed me...the marketing section of business line was carrying the beautiful pic of two beauties of indian cinema, namely, miss. kareena kapoor and miss. priyanka chopra sporting a pepsi bottle...from hemlimes to reading between the lines...pepsi is planning to launch (or rather already has) a pepsi variant which has a mocha-coffee dash...so far so good...so what??...a rational marketing student (of grades B+ and up) would start framing the Kotlerian grid of segmentation, targeting and positioning...and ask: Which bloody soft drink (or hot drink...or for that matter any drink) consuming segment is the said product targeted at? What is gonna be the helluva "purchase pattern" and "consumption pattern" (pattern bole to...wud he drink it while he is standing, running, or sitting in the loo...on more serious notes...where will he buy?...how will he buy? ..in what SKU will he buy...when (and why the hell)..will he purchase..etcetra..)..
... and me an amateur marketer would wonder if i can answer the above questions using my m-cells..or just follow a simple pattern of cut-copy-paste the b-plan i made for levi's to sell some kind of jeans to target some kind of "YOUTH"..now thats a deadly word....the word "YOUTH" becomes such a wonderful word for marketers to explain such amazingly complex problems of human psyche ..and an excuse to pile on any product to the discerning consumer...
..."we are targeting our product for the youth segment"...ok ..gud..nice...so anything and everything is for the youth, then what does the youth want...or does the youth carry and abyss to absorb whatever crap in blue packages can be transferred..without a budge...
...i beg to differ...and as a by-stander, I would ask: Are we marketers thinking enough to take care of our brand children ..or just leaving them idle to publish themseleves as juvenile delinquents??...man, what a shoddy state...ofcourse someone in Pepsi reading this blog would breathe fire..."What the hell do you know about Pepsi??"...i would simply say...that i loved the brand when it used to signify to me something..when the ad commercials used to click in all brain corners...when the point of purchase decisions were not marred by an iota of doubt...yes , i still see the potential of the brand....but does such a fresh brand need such disasterous makeovers...i choose not to comment...just a suggestion...the next time when a management summer trainee makes some recommendation after the two month holiday..please take it with a pinch of salt...or shud i say..a dash of mocha??
... and me an amateur marketer would wonder if i can answer the above questions using my m-cells..or just follow a simple pattern of cut-copy-paste the b-plan i made for levi's to sell some kind of jeans to target some kind of "YOUTH"..now thats a deadly word....the word "YOUTH" becomes such a wonderful word for marketers to explain such amazingly complex problems of human psyche ..and an excuse to pile on any product to the discerning consumer...
..."we are targeting our product for the youth segment"...ok ..gud..nice...so anything and everything is for the youth, then what does the youth want...or does the youth carry and abyss to absorb whatever crap in blue packages can be transferred..without a budge...
...i beg to differ...and as a by-stander, I would ask: Are we marketers thinking enough to take care of our brand children ..or just leaving them idle to publish themseleves as juvenile delinquents??...man, what a shoddy state...ofcourse someone in Pepsi reading this blog would breathe fire..."What the hell do you know about Pepsi??"...i would simply say...that i loved the brand when it used to signify to me something..when the ad commercials used to click in all brain corners...when the point of purchase decisions were not marred by an iota of doubt...yes , i still see the potential of the brand....but does such a fresh brand need such disasterous makeovers...i choose not to comment...just a suggestion...the next time when a management summer trainee makes some recommendation after the two month holiday..please take it with a pinch of salt...or shud i say..a dash of mocha??
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Your time starts now.....
writing is difficult...atleast for me...the last time i remember i wrote something was perhaps an application for leave during Diwali...and my lazy self had set so many records, that the application started just 2 hrs before the flight was to depart, and the reluctant fingers ached to type a two-liner....phew, sometimes life is so tough...i realized this when one of my friends literally forced me to start a blog of my own...and when asked what shud i type..the asnwer pat came.....whatever you wish, dude....we just want to read whatever u write....man, how can friends be so cruel...
...well...the purpose of this blog is mutli-fold.(cuz now that i have started writing somethin, lets make is unmeaningfully meaningful than meaningfully unmeanigfull..see what i mean)...the primary motive is to torture the reader in as many ways as possible...read on...
i see the world with 5 eyes...( 2 ke saath 3 free)..
.that of a child...cz i live by the fact that there is a super duper child in each one of us...who is really dying to live more n more as we grow older...and the child sees the world without bias..the truth is abashing and blunt...but that what children are all about....
..part 2...the world from the eyes of a mad man...though the word itself is totally non-oxymoronic...i feel that what the child lacks in experience....the mad man plugs it ...ofcourse there are biases...but they are not generic...they are directed and specific...hence, the reader would agree to somethings the mad man says....and disagrees to some others...but there are no generic mad men...the result is the same ....truth
the third eye....it sees the world from the eyes of an artist..the child and the mad man see and speak the truth...but the artist sees the truth from different angles...truth is like a rubic's cube...u can twist the cube at many places...it changes the perspective, but not the truth!!..
the fourth eye....it’s the eye of the marketer….this u might say is a volte-face from what has been said about truth...but is a complex whirlpool of biases and prejudices...highlighting the lies when they shine...and the truth when it pays....thats what a marketer is all about...
the final eye is that of me, myself, Punit....a guy who is easy..yet difficult...a strong thread of honesty ...a bundle of contradictions...an aspirational idiot...a rational thinker...a loving friend and a deadly enemy...the fifth eye sees what i see.... discover me as we amble on this sea of words which hold power n strength to build and destroy!!
enuf of gyan for the intro....the devil's workshoppe is all about this.... the devil doesnt lie...
" I believe in God, but I talk to the devil ."
...well...the purpose of this blog is mutli-fold.(cuz now that i have started writing somethin, lets make is unmeaningfully meaningful than meaningfully unmeanigfull..see what i mean)...the primary motive is to torture the reader in as many ways as possible...read on...
i see the world with 5 eyes...( 2 ke saath 3 free)..
.that of a child...cz i live by the fact that there is a super duper child in each one of us...who is really dying to live more n more as we grow older...and the child sees the world without bias..the truth is abashing and blunt...but that what children are all about....
..part 2...the world from the eyes of a mad man...though the word itself is totally non-oxymoronic...i feel that what the child lacks in experience....the mad man plugs it ...ofcourse there are biases...but they are not generic...they are directed and specific...hence, the reader would agree to somethings the mad man says....and disagrees to some others...but there are no generic mad men...the result is the same ....truth
the third eye....it sees the world from the eyes of an artist..the child and the mad man see and speak the truth...but the artist sees the truth from different angles...truth is like a rubic's cube...u can twist the cube at many places...it changes the perspective, but not the truth!!..
the fourth eye....it’s the eye of the marketer….this u might say is a volte-face from what has been said about truth...but is a complex whirlpool of biases and prejudices...highlighting the lies when they shine...and the truth when it pays....thats what a marketer is all about...
the final eye is that of me, myself, Punit....a guy who is easy..yet difficult...a strong thread of honesty ...a bundle of contradictions...an aspirational idiot...a rational thinker...a loving friend and a deadly enemy...the fifth eye sees what i see.... discover me as we amble on this sea of words which hold power n strength to build and destroy!!
enuf of gyan for the intro....the devil's workshoppe is all about this.... the devil doesnt lie...
" I believe in God, but I talk to the devil ."
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