Do also visit my latest blog at http://worldofadz.blogspot.com/. Following is a brief summary:
There are advertising websites/blogs compiling ads which are country specific or just ads around the world, ad reviews, critique from authorities or from ad men (or women, if I May call them so) but never have I seen a consumer's perspective, an amateur's perspective on advertising and advertisments. So here, I present to you the most fresh, most unadulterated, interactive, adventerous perspective on the ad world. What works from a consumer's perspective and most importantly what doesn't
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
words
Who said it is all about grand words
And thought provoking visions
Who said it is about life changing ideas
Or challenging a societal norm
It need not always be verbose
May not be difficult
It shall never be similar
And need not be incomprehensible
It will have a few things
Will always have meaning
It will be a culmination of thoughts
A repository of notions
The more I see the more I believe
That it is always an experience
It is always an expression
And it shall always speak
Turning through pages of poetry
I see notions, ideas and often hurt
But I always see a soul
which makes every word so alive
And thought provoking visions
Who said it is about life changing ideas
Or challenging a societal norm
It need not always be verbose
May not be difficult
It shall never be similar
And need not be incomprehensible
It will have a few things
Will always have meaning
It will be a culmination of thoughts
A repository of notions
The more I see the more I believe
That it is always an experience
It is always an expression
And it shall always speak
Turning through pages of poetry
I see notions, ideas and often hurt
But I always see a soul
which makes every word so alive
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Catharsis
A wondrous moment, a flutter of emotions and a bundle of questions defined the moment.
Hesitatingly I dragged myself out of bed on a Sunday morning and got ready. Today was the big day, the day I was to meet Guruji. Who might be this, you may wonder. My dear friend and ardent believer in Guruji had tried to convince me for much time now, about Guruji. She kept telling me about the catharsis in one’s thoughts on meeting him and how life changes. I, being the logical me refused to believe any such thing. All Guru’s are a sham, I told her. It is pointless to convince me because I do not want anyone telling me how to lead my life and what all I am doing wrong. I am very much capable of doing that, thank you very much.
The attempted brain washes continued for six months, many fell on deaf ears and many I nodded furiously whilst laughing in my mind. Guruji decided to visit on what happened to be the coldest day in Delhi. Jessica, my dear friend’s happiness knew no bounds on that news. She immediately cornered me and resorted to every possible method in the book or even outside the book to make me agree to meet him. To avoid the constant nagging, I agreed.
Now we come back to the cold winter morning, where I sat in my car cursing myself, at having agreed to meet Guruji at 7:00am on a Sunday!! I consoled myself by deciding to sleep through the preaching and get back home to my warm bed.
The crowd was enormous, it was like a concert night where people waited patiently to catch a glimpse of the idol. Jessica with her press pass managed to get inside the building dragging me with her. We waited and soon Guruji stepped out. He was wearing a white kurta with a loose dhoti and looked very handsome, I must admit. He sat down and smiled. There was something very serene about him. This made me uncomfortable, I was not supposed to like him. He would soon begin preaching, I said to myself frowning. He started casually asking our names and what we do.
When my turn came, he smiled even more and asked why I was worrying so much, I should let things be and learn to let go, forgive myself .. it is not your fault, he said. I was furious, I mean – seriously, he does not even know me. Gulping down my anger especially with Jessica gesturing me, I sat down and frowned even more.
He spoke for an hour after that, about life, about people, about the political developments and cracked multitude of jokes which got me to smile and giggle a couple of times. His talk was very non- preachy, he spoke with much ease and spoke as if he were speaking to each of us individually. In his discussions about the nuclear power and environment, it seemed like he was talking about every day incidents of our lives, our fears, our problems, our insecurities. The answers were latent but were direct, were about unrelated issues but very related to us. I saw myself hearing attentively and nodding at several places. A couple of times he looked at me and spoke. The feeling was very unexplainable. Just when we were leaving, he patted my head and said “My child, make peace with yourself and its all within you.” On any given day I would have frowned and reacted but I was spell bound and caught in the moment that day.
Later, as I drove home, I opened the window and enjoyed the cool breeze against my face. I smiled at passers-by and I felt on top of the world. His voice echoed in head –“ our lives are not determined by what happens to us but by how we react to what happens, Not by what life brings to us, but by the attitude we bring to life. Give and don't expect. Advise, but don't order. Ask, but never demand.” I looked back at various instances of my life where my attitude, my reactions, my expectations caused me much hurt but what I failed to see till date was there was a big “my” before each of that.
That cold dreary winter day changed my life in many ways… It made me change my attitude towards myself, life and everything. It was a catharsis of sorts and to this very day, I can relive that day, as if it were just yesterday and every time something goes wrong, I revisit Guruji in my heart and mind.
Hesitatingly I dragged myself out of bed on a Sunday morning and got ready. Today was the big day, the day I was to meet Guruji. Who might be this, you may wonder. My dear friend and ardent believer in Guruji had tried to convince me for much time now, about Guruji. She kept telling me about the catharsis in one’s thoughts on meeting him and how life changes. I, being the logical me refused to believe any such thing. All Guru’s are a sham, I told her. It is pointless to convince me because I do not want anyone telling me how to lead my life and what all I am doing wrong. I am very much capable of doing that, thank you very much.
The attempted brain washes continued for six months, many fell on deaf ears and many I nodded furiously whilst laughing in my mind. Guruji decided to visit on what happened to be the coldest day in Delhi. Jessica, my dear friend’s happiness knew no bounds on that news. She immediately cornered me and resorted to every possible method in the book or even outside the book to make me agree to meet him. To avoid the constant nagging, I agreed.
Now we come back to the cold winter morning, where I sat in my car cursing myself, at having agreed to meet Guruji at 7:00am on a Sunday!! I consoled myself by deciding to sleep through the preaching and get back home to my warm bed.
The crowd was enormous, it was like a concert night where people waited patiently to catch a glimpse of the idol. Jessica with her press pass managed to get inside the building dragging me with her. We waited and soon Guruji stepped out. He was wearing a white kurta with a loose dhoti and looked very handsome, I must admit. He sat down and smiled. There was something very serene about him. This made me uncomfortable, I was not supposed to like him. He would soon begin preaching, I said to myself frowning. He started casually asking our names and what we do.
When my turn came, he smiled even more and asked why I was worrying so much, I should let things be and learn to let go, forgive myself .. it is not your fault, he said. I was furious, I mean – seriously, he does not even know me. Gulping down my anger especially with Jessica gesturing me, I sat down and frowned even more.
He spoke for an hour after that, about life, about people, about the political developments and cracked multitude of jokes which got me to smile and giggle a couple of times. His talk was very non- preachy, he spoke with much ease and spoke as if he were speaking to each of us individually. In his discussions about the nuclear power and environment, it seemed like he was talking about every day incidents of our lives, our fears, our problems, our insecurities. The answers were latent but were direct, were about unrelated issues but very related to us. I saw myself hearing attentively and nodding at several places. A couple of times he looked at me and spoke. The feeling was very unexplainable. Just when we were leaving, he patted my head and said “My child, make peace with yourself and its all within you.” On any given day I would have frowned and reacted but I was spell bound and caught in the moment that day.
Later, as I drove home, I opened the window and enjoyed the cool breeze against my face. I smiled at passers-by and I felt on top of the world. His voice echoed in head –“ our lives are not determined by what happens to us but by how we react to what happens, Not by what life brings to us, but by the attitude we bring to life. Give and don't expect. Advise, but don't order. Ask, but never demand.” I looked back at various instances of my life where my attitude, my reactions, my expectations caused me much hurt but what I failed to see till date was there was a big “my” before each of that.
That cold dreary winter day changed my life in many ways… It made me change my attitude towards myself, life and everything. It was a catharsis of sorts and to this very day, I can relive that day, as if it were just yesterday and every time something goes wrong, I revisit Guruji in my heart and mind.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Something in my coffee
Today there was an unknown feeling
Whilst entering the Coffee Pot
Pausing a step before the door
I tried to analyze the feeling
The Coffee Pot was a daily ritual
Then why the unfamiliarity today
I entered through the bright shiny door
The bell tinkered with my step
Looking around, I tried to spot my corner
Bright yellow checkered table
Sparkling gerberas beckoned me warmly
I sat staring at the bustle of penny lane
Amelia smiled warmly rushing to get my usual
I sat and pondered why the fuzz in my head
Why the uneasiness in my familiar space
My steaming cappuccino made me grin sheepishly
Amelia inquired why I looked lost
I stirred my coffee and tried to read my mind
Today there were flashes of speculation in my coffee
Today there was a lack of sang-froid
The Coffee Pot seemed far away from where I was
I tried not to admit that maybe I had overgrown my coffee
Today I had to face the fact
Moving from my home town to New York wasn’t the same
Today I guess I had to grow up and sip the reality
Which was staring at me in my coffee
Whilst entering the Coffee Pot
Pausing a step before the door
I tried to analyze the feeling
The Coffee Pot was a daily ritual
Then why the unfamiliarity today
I entered through the bright shiny door
The bell tinkered with my step
Looking around, I tried to spot my corner
Bright yellow checkered table
Sparkling gerberas beckoned me warmly
I sat staring at the bustle of penny lane
Amelia smiled warmly rushing to get my usual
I sat and pondered why the fuzz in my head
Why the uneasiness in my familiar space
My steaming cappuccino made me grin sheepishly
Amelia inquired why I looked lost
I stirred my coffee and tried to read my mind
Today there were flashes of speculation in my coffee
Today there was a lack of sang-froid
The Coffee Pot seemed far away from where I was
I tried not to admit that maybe I had overgrown my coffee
Today I had to face the fact
Moving from my home town to New York wasn’t the same
Today I guess I had to grow up and sip the reality
Which was staring at me in my coffee
Thursday, August 27, 2009
You can work it out
So, Deepa came to me weeping furiously. Yet another fight I thought. She plopped herself down on the chair in front of me sniffing and muttering between the sniffs. I handed the tissue box to her and passed her some water. It was 11 am on a Wednesday not the best time for my boss to see me doing girl talk. I meekly went up and shut the door.
Deepa continued sobbing and grabbed tissue after tissue. After about two minutes of the sobbing silence, I asked – “deepa, you want to tell me what happened?” Hysterically Deepa started speaking and in between sobs and sniffs I could understand are as follows:
· I don’t understand men
· What do they want
· Why are they always creating issues over non issues
· What’s the point of being together if all we can do is fight
· I don’t want to continue like this.
Oh and she also slipped in the fact as to how lucky I was not to have a man in my life to deal with all this on a regular basis. Deepa was engaged to Amit. They seemed really happy and things were going on fine. One fine day these fights started and non issues became issues, frivolous stuff became larger than life and what they used to love about each other became problems. A story of every couple, I thought.
I wondered- “What does it take for two people to be happy?, why is that all couples start all great and amazing and sooner than later regular mundane issues take precedence, tempers fly, impatience creeps in. Each one wants to change the other for their need. Why??? Did you not choose to be together because you liked the differences and in no time you want to change the person to what is acceptable to you?
My mind wandered and I worried about various things- are their really two people who are meant to be together? How do u resolve issues which cause friction- do you sleep over it and let it pass? Or you discuss it but do these discussions lead to any conclusion? Two people are bound to differ and one has to accept the differences but as human beings we can’t. We can’t accept and we can’t let go. We hold on to things which can be brushed aside by a hug or maybe a blind eye but the wet towel on the floor, the scattering of shoes, the food items for dinner become bones of contention. Why?? I would think that a couple can change a bit for each other and accept the rest of the differences but easier said than done. Overtime, the real person hidden behind the courtship period emerges and rigidity sets in. I had no answers to any of these questions for myself or for Deepa. “You can work it out” is all I could tell her!!
Maybe a few rules would help as and when I do find my special someone-
· Never sleep over a fight
· Have your own world- do your own thing, have your space
· Learn to ignore a couple of things/remarks/comments/ situations (however, this can work only if the other person does the same)
· Don’t discuss every single contention and over rationalize so much so that you make an issue where there is none. Sometimes a blind eye, counting to 10 or just a hug solves things
· Accept the differences- its good. (mutual acceptance is the key)
· Learn to let go- never keep things to your heart
· Apologize even if it not your mistake
No one is made for each other but you take the good things and sort the rest. Its going to be a trail and error method and soon a couple will become attuned to each other. However, the change is a phase and it will happen over a period of time. Nothing is easy and relationships are definitely not so do a few things and over time probably it will be worth it, maybe not that day but when you look back these small things will make the big difference.
Oh! In the meanwhile I consoled Deepa. Amit had called and sent her flowers. She was smiling at an sms when my train of thoughts ceased. I could not help but smile. Relationships… .. there will always be the devil on one side and deep sea on the other and meanwhile we can just walk the line!
Deepa continued sobbing and grabbed tissue after tissue. After about two minutes of the sobbing silence, I asked – “deepa, you want to tell me what happened?” Hysterically Deepa started speaking and in between sobs and sniffs I could understand are as follows:
· I don’t understand men
· What do they want
· Why are they always creating issues over non issues
· What’s the point of being together if all we can do is fight
· I don’t want to continue like this.
Oh and she also slipped in the fact as to how lucky I was not to have a man in my life to deal with all this on a regular basis. Deepa was engaged to Amit. They seemed really happy and things were going on fine. One fine day these fights started and non issues became issues, frivolous stuff became larger than life and what they used to love about each other became problems. A story of every couple, I thought.
I wondered- “What does it take for two people to be happy?, why is that all couples start all great and amazing and sooner than later regular mundane issues take precedence, tempers fly, impatience creeps in. Each one wants to change the other for their need. Why??? Did you not choose to be together because you liked the differences and in no time you want to change the person to what is acceptable to you?
My mind wandered and I worried about various things- are their really two people who are meant to be together? How do u resolve issues which cause friction- do you sleep over it and let it pass? Or you discuss it but do these discussions lead to any conclusion? Two people are bound to differ and one has to accept the differences but as human beings we can’t. We can’t accept and we can’t let go. We hold on to things which can be brushed aside by a hug or maybe a blind eye but the wet towel on the floor, the scattering of shoes, the food items for dinner become bones of contention. Why?? I would think that a couple can change a bit for each other and accept the rest of the differences but easier said than done. Overtime, the real person hidden behind the courtship period emerges and rigidity sets in. I had no answers to any of these questions for myself or for Deepa. “You can work it out” is all I could tell her!!
Maybe a few rules would help as and when I do find my special someone-
· Never sleep over a fight
· Have your own world- do your own thing, have your space
· Learn to ignore a couple of things/remarks/comments/ situations (however, this can work only if the other person does the same)
· Don’t discuss every single contention and over rationalize so much so that you make an issue where there is none. Sometimes a blind eye, counting to 10 or just a hug solves things
· Accept the differences- its good. (mutual acceptance is the key)
· Learn to let go- never keep things to your heart
· Apologize even if it not your mistake
No one is made for each other but you take the good things and sort the rest. Its going to be a trail and error method and soon a couple will become attuned to each other. However, the change is a phase and it will happen over a period of time. Nothing is easy and relationships are definitely not so do a few things and over time probably it will be worth it, maybe not that day but when you look back these small things will make the big difference.
Oh! In the meanwhile I consoled Deepa. Amit had called and sent her flowers. She was smiling at an sms when my train of thoughts ceased. I could not help but smile. Relationships… .. there will always be the devil on one side and deep sea on the other and meanwhile we can just walk the line!
Monday, June 29, 2009
bhola
The fields were green in the rains, the breeze was so fresh. I could almost hear myself gasp as I tried taking in the fresh air. The pitter patter of the rain drops sounded like music and the hush of the trees added that beat to the glorious nature melody. I skipped and ran across the greens. The roaring in my tummy told me its lunch time. Running home I looked forward to the helping of rice and maybe there would be some steamed potatoes today well mashed with some mustard oil, onions and chilies. If I got real lucky there might be some ghee too. I ran even faster and suddenly I fell into the ditch which I failed to see. A loud jarring noise followed. I sat up realizing that my dream was shattered and my reality was far from the greens and the breeze. I wiped my face and my neck which was wet with the perspiration of the hot and humid night. I jumped out of bed the moment realizing that a brief delay in answering the bell would result in some remarks from memsahib.
It was barely 6 am and my reality of serving the household of 2 at Greater Kailash II, New Delhi had just sunk in. The garbage collection boy frowned as I opened the door saying “kya, itna time lagta hai darwaja kholne mein !” (Does it take so long to open the door?). I meekly handed the garbage to him. In my second year in the capital, I realized after many hard lessons that smiling at people, thanking them, expecting them to smile back never helped. No one ever was pleasant without a motive so it was better to just be elusive.
The mornings were always a hurricane. Between 6 am to 9 am when the house hold left, I had to get breakfast ready, pack Tiffin (2 different ones), finish sweeping and moping the house etc. I rushed around the kitchen. I knew the tiffin was the tough part, Memsaheb tool 3 roti’s, one bowl of vegetables, a dal, curd, salad. Saab never liked the staple diet as he liked variety and craved over chicken which memsahib never let him eat. She would keep saying eat healthy, look at yourself, you need to be in shape. I sneaked a bit of the dry chicken from the night before, dal, sabji in his tiffin. The tiffin’s were ready and lined up near the exit. The breakfast was simple- cereal (some fancy thing in a box called Kellogg’s, it seemed an awful waste of money. I could have made daliya for a year with that money), fruits (3-4 kinds all neatly cut up), milk, toast and sometimes if they asked an egg.
I could hear the shuffles in the room inside around 8 am. I finished cleaning the house and laid the table. Saab and memsahib ate well and cribbed about the ac not working for an hour. They asked me how I slept. I replied that I slept well and never felt the load shedding. Memsahib instructed me on the items to be cooked for the night.
BY 9 am I was home alone. I loved this part of the day. All the time was mine, I cleaned the house, dusted the rooms, washed the clothes, ironed the earlier day’s clothes. By 1 am I was done. I had my meal of rice, dal and aloo and lay down for an afternoon nap. I had to go buy the vegetables in the evening and I would cook dinner. I knew no one would return before 8 pm. They went to some gym to work out ( I always wondered why not walk in the open air, run, play rather than going to another closed place and use big heafty machines) and came back all exhausted. They would eat dinner post 9 pm and sleep after 12 pm. These were my days. There were a little different days where some people were called, then there would be more cooking then there would be days where they would not eat at home and there would be no cooking.
My life was simple. I felt grateful, I could send money home every month, I could save up for my family back in Orissa. I had little or no demands, I was fed and I had shelter in this household and the work was not too much. I knew of people from my village who had to toil for hours endlessly to earn even Rs. 500. I felt privileged. There was a lot of money in Delhi, the family had a lavish lifestyle, they had two cars, spent a lot on eating out ( I have seen shocking bills of Rs.5000 left in clothes given for washing ), shopped but they were kind people who never yelled or troubled me without reason.
I looked forward to my yearly break when I would go back to my village, amidst the lush green place and enjoy the breeze. I sighed as I put on the fan and sat on the floor. I knew another day would go by and another and soon months would pass. I felt blessed, I saw the complications of the lives people led here- money, power, pressure, health, competition, expenses… the needs and the ends were endless. When did life get so complicated I felt. I lived my cycle everyday, I was content and I served with a happy heart. I wish that my contentment would reflect in the family too and they would find some solace in their complicated lives. If only they could be content, if only they could stop running and live… just live by being bhola for a day.. dream of the green fields and look forward to one bowl of fresh rice… I dared not say that but I smiled more.. I helped more.. I tried more.. I hope someday my acquired family at GK (as they call it here) understands the meaning of living… simply living….n being content about it..
The door bell rang at 6 am.. another day … for bhola was just about to begin………
It was barely 6 am and my reality of serving the household of 2 at Greater Kailash II, New Delhi had just sunk in. The garbage collection boy frowned as I opened the door saying “kya, itna time lagta hai darwaja kholne mein !” (Does it take so long to open the door?). I meekly handed the garbage to him. In my second year in the capital, I realized after many hard lessons that smiling at people, thanking them, expecting them to smile back never helped. No one ever was pleasant without a motive so it was better to just be elusive.
The mornings were always a hurricane. Between 6 am to 9 am when the house hold left, I had to get breakfast ready, pack Tiffin (2 different ones), finish sweeping and moping the house etc. I rushed around the kitchen. I knew the tiffin was the tough part, Memsaheb tool 3 roti’s, one bowl of vegetables, a dal, curd, salad. Saab never liked the staple diet as he liked variety and craved over chicken which memsahib never let him eat. She would keep saying eat healthy, look at yourself, you need to be in shape. I sneaked a bit of the dry chicken from the night before, dal, sabji in his tiffin. The tiffin’s were ready and lined up near the exit. The breakfast was simple- cereal (some fancy thing in a box called Kellogg’s, it seemed an awful waste of money. I could have made daliya for a year with that money), fruits (3-4 kinds all neatly cut up), milk, toast and sometimes if they asked an egg.
I could hear the shuffles in the room inside around 8 am. I finished cleaning the house and laid the table. Saab and memsahib ate well and cribbed about the ac not working for an hour. They asked me how I slept. I replied that I slept well and never felt the load shedding. Memsahib instructed me on the items to be cooked for the night.
BY 9 am I was home alone. I loved this part of the day. All the time was mine, I cleaned the house, dusted the rooms, washed the clothes, ironed the earlier day’s clothes. By 1 am I was done. I had my meal of rice, dal and aloo and lay down for an afternoon nap. I had to go buy the vegetables in the evening and I would cook dinner. I knew no one would return before 8 pm. They went to some gym to work out ( I always wondered why not walk in the open air, run, play rather than going to another closed place and use big heafty machines) and came back all exhausted. They would eat dinner post 9 pm and sleep after 12 pm. These were my days. There were a little different days where some people were called, then there would be more cooking then there would be days where they would not eat at home and there would be no cooking.
My life was simple. I felt grateful, I could send money home every month, I could save up for my family back in Orissa. I had little or no demands, I was fed and I had shelter in this household and the work was not too much. I knew of people from my village who had to toil for hours endlessly to earn even Rs. 500. I felt privileged. There was a lot of money in Delhi, the family had a lavish lifestyle, they had two cars, spent a lot on eating out ( I have seen shocking bills of Rs.5000 left in clothes given for washing ), shopped but they were kind people who never yelled or troubled me without reason.
I looked forward to my yearly break when I would go back to my village, amidst the lush green place and enjoy the breeze. I sighed as I put on the fan and sat on the floor. I knew another day would go by and another and soon months would pass. I felt blessed, I saw the complications of the lives people led here- money, power, pressure, health, competition, expenses… the needs and the ends were endless. When did life get so complicated I felt. I lived my cycle everyday, I was content and I served with a happy heart. I wish that my contentment would reflect in the family too and they would find some solace in their complicated lives. If only they could be content, if only they could stop running and live… just live by being bhola for a day.. dream of the green fields and look forward to one bowl of fresh rice… I dared not say that but I smiled more.. I helped more.. I tried more.. I hope someday my acquired family at GK (as they call it here) understands the meaning of living… simply living….n being content about it..
The door bell rang at 6 am.. another day … for bhola was just about to begin………
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Till we meet again………
We go back a long way. You have always been there for me, my soul rests with you. Yet I have not written to you for long. My mind is juggling several thoughts, the ink is drying up and the scrolls remain bare. Joyousness in its bounty has taken over and frivolity is overpowering. Then I should write more to you, you say? Share with me those moments in your mind, let me dance with you in the oh so melodious chant…
I stare blankly.. overpowered with emotions and thoughts. Maybe I am skeptical about sharing my joy, maybe I am superstitious, maybe I am just in my own exclusive world. It’s a whirlwind of things which swerve in my mind, its happiness personified, its anxiousness un controlled, its hopelessly hopeful. I wish I could share my journey with you… sigh! How I wish..
I close my diary and consoling it say.. sometimes my dear diary, word’s are not enough and I am glad to be in one of the times!
We shall part to meet soon where I take you with me on this journey…. Till then…
I stare blankly.. overpowered with emotions and thoughts. Maybe I am skeptical about sharing my joy, maybe I am superstitious, maybe I am just in my own exclusive world. It’s a whirlwind of things which swerve in my mind, its happiness personified, its anxiousness un controlled, its hopelessly hopeful. I wish I could share my journey with you… sigh! How I wish..
I close my diary and consoling it say.. sometimes my dear diary, word’s are not enough and I am glad to be in one of the times!
We shall part to meet soon where I take you with me on this journey…. Till then…
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