Saturday, September 30, 2006

Reminiscences ...

Yesterday was my brother M’s birthday. Last year I wrote this post in his honor on a dare ( I was richer by Rs 1000/- the kanjoos!!!). While going over my old stuff I found a Slam Book that was such a rage when I was in school. Here are some excerpts from his entry in a as is where is basis. He was 12 or 13 years old I think.

My name: wuts ur prob
My address: da moon
My phone no: 091-get-out-of-my-face.
My Sunsign: Heat
My biggest asset: Myself.
I’m sad about: Writing this stuff
My most memorable moment: 4 minutes back (before I started writing this duh!!!!)
Biggest Strength: Not u (Ha! Ha! Ha!)
My hobbies: notin u like
My favorite Singer: Myself
A girl/boy I like most and why: Myself (duh!!!)
A girl/boy I hate most and why: u cos u r a pest
I love wearing: Clothes (duh!!!)
My best teacher (Male): MAHATMA GANDHI (Ha! Ha! Ha!)
My favorite movie: Silverine shuts up!
What annoys me: U!! (duh!)
What bores me: Writing this!
My ambition: Millionaire
My dearest pal: My dog (that’s actually my dog)
My dream lover: Me
Love to me is: Mum
Person I respect : Dad
What I feel for you: U dont want to know( Ha! Ha! Ha!)

Signed
M
(I am da greatest…not you!)

Of course I cried and almost tore the paper up because my friends sister's had written such sweet stuff. Thank god, my mom kept it safe till I cooled down. I now have something to show his future wife, in case she needs solid evidence of insanity in court!! :p
On second thoughts I will sell it to the highest bidder muahaHAHAHA

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Life is good!!!

I would describe a perfect day as...opening my blog and seeing two tiny asterix next to a name on my Blog Roll, which indicates that someone has published a new post.

The last two weeks was reading heaven for me. Jiby came out with some posts in quick succession. I won’t even attempt to describe his posts; each one is so perfect and interesting.

Kusum came out with some brilliant posts that left me gawping at it’s sheer spunkiness and subtle sense of humor.

My old pal If I tell ya, I'll have to kill ya resurfaced and put up a rib tickling piece in a way only she can write.

Mind Curry’s latest post on the Cola ban, has me chuckling at the sheer stupidity of some commenters and I can almost visualize MC trying his best to reply to the comments with a straight face. At this present moment I wonder if he behaving like AA in my latest post :p I sincerely hope he is not and that he will continue his crusade to resurrect the land of the zombies. His posts and comments at Save Kerala should be made compulsory study for Anthropologists trying to decipher the Malayaleee psyche. You won’t get such a rich source of study material anywhere. No need to cut open a Malayalee brain to see what make them tick and go BOOM, just read the comments at Save Kerala and you can say goodbye to those tomes and volumes that thousands have consulted in vain to decipher the Malayalees.

Alexis came up with a mega bumper post and lord in heaven… I am laughing hysterically as I type this …it is so howlarious that I am going to get into serious trouble at the office. My new team members who are not used to seeing me giggling into a monitor like my last team, think that I am crazy!!!

Ganja Turtle came up with, not one but four posts with astonishing speed. I would describe his recent posts as watching the New York Philharmonic Orchestra playing at the Grand Canyon to an exclusive audience consisting only of Mother Earth , the orchestra reaching a crescendo as the Sun sinks into the canyon in grand applause.

Matter of Choice …a blogger whose command over English and maturity of thought I admire, wrote about Shine Garments. Every post of his is a satisfying read for me. I simply admire the richness of his language and the mix of wisdom and wit that has prompted me to tell him many times in the past that he should blog more often.

Angel Doc’s posts, in which she describes the elements is second to none. One of those few people who can weave a beautiful tapestry of visuals describing Nature using mere words …her latest post on Dasappa and her description of the rain lashing near the Vellayani lake left me awestruck.

Jeremy the jewel….I call him that because each of his post is like a gem, short and sweet but beautiful and precious and sooo refreshing.

Thank you Sarah for making each day something to look forward to with your story...a complusive read for me.

And last but not the least the very hilarious professor of Iyer Education…he reminds me of Tom the cat. Recently he attempted a story and I realized to my horror that I am a compulsive ‘twist in the tale’ girl. Of course I realized this when I wrote Acid Rain and Silent Killer, but I guess my tendencies are resurfacing again...because when I saw this story by Iyer Education I went into a trance and redid the story…with a twisted twist in the tale. And Sir Iyer fortunately let me off without an imposition!

What to do? I am like this only. I love to read the blogs of a few people...and when they oblige me with a post, I can only say thank you. Blogging is no fun if your favorite bloggers don’t post, but blogging has to be natural too….and so I wait patiently till one of them has to say something. Right now I am in blogger heaven. If I have missed out anyone then I am sorry, I will add an addendum as I remember.

Thank you all you wonderful people!!!

Sunday, September 24, 2006

To the one I love...


To my itsy bitsy chweety pie of a doggie woggie!

I fell in love with you the moment I saw you
You were my baby from the time I set my eyes on you
I carried you home in the palm of my hand
You were so tiny
And then you entered my house
and conquered my home and my family
You became the most important thing for everyone
Suddenly everyone wanted to carry you
cuddle you
put you on their bed and even sleep with you
There was a tug of war and I was left questioning whether you
were my dog or theirs
But I realized that sweetness such as yours was to be shared.

You cried when I am sick
Went off food
and hung around morosely under my bed
or curled yourself into a tight ball...
now and then looking up to see if I was alright
Whined in the morning if I slept late
Scared lest I am not alive
And I always put out a hand
to reassure you before falling back to sleep

You are the first thing I see in the morning
And the last face I behold at night
I have no choice as you…
Hang around me like a shadow

You are my angel that God sent down
To tell me I am special
Happy B'day chweety pie, lollypop, sugar plum, honey bunch, doggylee, fur face, love of my love and all the other things mushy that I call you
except your name.


I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Of human perversions

"I was with this girl the other night and from the way she was responding to my skillful caresses, you would have sworn that she was conscious from the top of her head to the tag on her toes."

Emo Philips

If you understood that, then you are among the urban group who have grown up on a steady diet of American books and understand a lot about western society. Any other Indian on the other hand would not understand this joke, because necrophilia is unknown to him. In the US where everything and anything is possible, jokes like these are laughed off. In India it would be treated with shock. And therein lies a tale that is spine chilling and very disquieting.

I got a forward recently sent to me by my cousin in UK. He is a father of two young boys aged 3 and 7. The email was a petition against leniency to two teenage boys who tortured and then killed a five year old by pushing him under a train. The boy was tortured for hours before he found reprieve in death. During the ordeal he cried for his mother. He was apparently picked up from a store when his mom looked away for an instant.

I followed a link in the mail and was soon confronted with sites, which chronicled crime in the West. What I read was horrifying. Apparently crime in the West is not as straightforward as it is in India. In the West you have people taking perverse pleasure in inflicting harm on another human being, sadism and torture of human beings and creative killing and people who take intense pleasure in these acts. Even babies are not spared. Sophisticated weaponry also makes sure that the victims have no chance to put up a fight. The type of the crimes are mind boggling, scary and very very perverse.

I wonder how or what makes people do such things? It cannot be just manic behavior because most of these criminals were educated people who were as sane as you and me. A friend and senior in college, who is a Clinical Psychologist tells me that childhood abuse, violence and neglect is what makes criminals like these. In which case a parent or a guardian who has mistreated a kid should have also, logically been mistreated as a kid! Which raises the question, as to where it all began.

My cousins in US tell me that so many kids go missing in the US and are never traced. Many of them are abused and killed and their bodies disposed off. In fact there was a movie or a book that tried to get to the bottom of missing children.

Why does a society turn against it’s young, it’s very foundation? It is against all natural logic. And if the young were treated thus, then it wouldn’t be too far fetched to surmise that the West maybe, is a nation of troubled adults…would it?

( I am listening to Your Tenderness by Naveen J Anthraper , the rocker from Kochi who is making waves worldwide. This song is an all time favorite of mine. Please wait for the video to load.)

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Leaders in thought and action

Yesterday, as I was sitting at my comp, working, my colleague M, an foreigner dropped by. He had been to some village during the weekend and was amazed at it's primitiveness. He remarked that he felt like he was going back in time.

His remarks left me thinking. Here was a man from the Caucasian stock, a race of people who went through the same process of evolution as us. But look at them!!! Almost every advancement in modern day world can be credited to them.

As I looked around my office floor, I could not spot a single item except the Zero’s written on my notepad that was either discovered or invented by an Oriental. Even the concept of justice and equality is borrowed from them and our Constitution comprises of the salient features from many western countrie's Constitutions.

The computer I work on, the software I was using, the chair and table, the pen and paper I used, my mobile everything, directly or indirectly was made by the white man. What is it that sets apart them from us, as both the western and eastern civilizations went through the same process of evolution from primitive beings?

While we evolved culturally, they evolved and progressed on all fronts. We send droves of Software Engineers to the US, while they discovered Computers and Software Engineering. In fact even the fertilizer used in the village, which my colleague visited, would have been invented by someone in the western civilization. Almost every enhancement in our life, from birth to death can be attributed to them.

Overlooking the obvious criticisms of the western society, I must admit that they are definitely superior to us in intellect. We excel in everything they invent, but rarely invent or discover anything new on our own, even today, when we have IISCs and IITs.

I still wonder what sets them apart from the other races on this planet.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

The young and the bold and sometimes foolish

When I joined my first job, my designation was Marketing Communication and Public Relations (PR). I had zilch experience in PR, except for the usual college projects on drafting Press Release etc. I got to write my first Press Release in the first week that I joined. It was a small press release about someone joining our company in some capacity. So I dutifully wrote it, got it approved etc. Now this company had a PR agency, but the PR manager wanted me to have experience of disseminating the Press Release the real way, i.e making a database of Journos and then mailing them individually after calling them up and then following the story as it broke in papers worldwide. During the week that I sent out the Press Releases I learnt some big lesson made some huge gaffes and became a minor celebrity in the PR department.

Case number one:

I call this all-supreme journo in a prominent newspaper and tell him of the Press Release. He grunts when he hears the subject of the release and tells me to mail to him. Next day I see that the news has not come in the paper. So I promptly call him. He tells me that it is not such an important news and that he will publish it on Friday. So I mull over that information and call him again and ask him if he could publish it on a Thursday as Friday is followed by the weekend and people who miss the news on Friday may miss it altogether. He is livid. He asks me my name, when I have joined and enquires if I know who he was etc. I told him that I knew nothing about him and why he is acting so difficult? I heard sputtering and choking noises on the other end as he tried to control the indignation of being spoken to with such irreverence. To his credit he calmed down and gave me an impromptu lesson on talking to senior journalist while trying to get your matter published etc. In my inexperience I missed the point totally. And so I again reiterated that I wanted the news on Thursday, to which he replied that he would speak to my boss the PR manager. I don’t know what transpired between them, but the news got published on a Thursday and my PR manager was suddenly smiling at me. I got a couple of calls from our PR agency people too, all of them chuckling that I had called a spade a spade, i.e called the senior journo ‘difficult’.

Case number two:

I call this very important Business magazine for the same press release. The person I am directed to is the top journo, a business and technology writer who thinks that people should read his bio-data and research his articles before even speaking to him. Not knowing him from Jack I called him and told him that I was mailing him the press release and please may I know when it would be published. There was pin drop silence. Then he quietly asked me if I knew who he was. I honestly told him ‘no’. He suggested I find out and call him again and then he slammed the phone down. I hate rude people and any act of rudeness only makes me bold. So I promptly called him again and told him that it was not nice of him to be so rude. He must have been taken aback but he said mildly “Oh really and what do you expect me to do? Take orders from a rookie PR like you who doesn’t even know how to talk to a senior journalist?” I told him that I was sorry if he felt I was ordering him around and that all I wanted was my press release published. He told me to mail it in and kept the phone down. The news got published and when he dropped by our office to interview my MD, I was called to meet him. When I walked into the conference room he exclaimed “So this is the kid who was talking so boldly to me?” He was a distinguished old man and we took and instant liking for each other and remain friends to this day. He is still Mr. High and Mighty and I am no more in PR.

After joining this new company, as is the usual practice I called up all the journos and informed them of the change and I happened to speak to these two gentlemen. They of course, took lot of pleasure in reminding me of my first Press Release and I was left very red faced at my naiveté.

Today when I see the new PR gals shivering at the thought of speaking to a senior journo, I realize that it was my total lack of awe, bought on my complete lack of knowledge of PR practices that pulled off that coup.

And my PR manager…she just played her cards ( a wet behind the ears PR gal) very well. Kudos Ms SS !!

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Cashing in on the poor

I was passing by one of those seedy movies theaters that you see in the seedier parts of Bangalore. This one too was festooned with streamers and serial lights, which seem to be ever present in these theaters. This time I saw a giant poster of the Kamalahaasan movie Indian. The “I” in Indian was the picture of the ‘older’ Kamalahaasan in Khaakhi. This movie is about an old man who became a killer after the some tragic circumstances in his life bought about by politicians and people in authority. The movie was a huge hit. Kamalahaasan acted as the old man, the wife and the son in a triple role. The poster was signed by a string of names from the Kamalahaasan Fan Club.

During the time this movie was released, a slew of similar productions hit the floor, all with the same theme. Man gets abused by politician, or his daughter/wife/sister raped by a politician or his son/father/brother killed by a politician, and spineless cops etc etc. These themes were sure fire hits and made many a producer rich.

Someone left a comment on Poomanam sometime back that “movies reflect life”. How true. And movie makers who are willing to harvest current sentiments always win. It is evident by the popularity of these movies that there is a great deal of resentment against the all powerful rich politicians. And it is this aspect about our people that puzzles me. If this is the case then ‘why oh why’ do the crowd that watch these movies elect them?????

When I was staying in the city last year to cut back on commute time, we had a maid doing top work in our house. During the local corporation election time I asked her who she would vote for. She named a really corrupt Corporator of our Ward. The reason? Because he got her a seat for her child in school. Now this man was the epitome of corruption and would demand money even if you were putting up a garage in your house. He would ride to power on the votes of the people in the Ejipura slum and the slum adjacent to Games Village and then lord over the Koramangala residents. I looked at my maid and realized that it was she who selected rulers for me and not me the educated and hence ‘better informed’ voter. The fact is it is my maid, the corporation sweeper on the road, the workshop man, the housepainter, the tea coffee delivery boy etc who make the choices of our leaders and not you and me. It was a depressing thought.

And it is these people who throng the theater and whistle when the baddie gets bashed up, usually a goonda protected by a politician. And by the reaction of the masses to these scenes in the movie, one would think that they are aware of the corruption and hence would vote responsibly. But that rarely happens, doesn't it?

And the politicians have never had it so good. Muscle power, Investments flows, a powerless educated electorate makes them the omnipotent class in this country today. Which is why Bangalore the Hi Tech City had dust tracks instead of roads for the past four years and looked like a ghost town.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

A Corporate Onam

Today was our office Onam celebration. This year a lot of malayalees could not go to Kerala for Onam due to project deadlines. So we decided that we would try and give them a semblance of the Onam celebration as it is celebrated in Kerala.

A committee was formed on the spur of the moment and lightening decisions with the help of all concerned including department heads meant that we had an elaborate Onam Celebration in our hands. And it turned out to be a grand celebration indeed with everyone pitching in.

An elaborate Onasadhya was arranged with a caterer who specializes in the same. Nowadays these caterers are in demand as most companies have Onasadhya on Onam day. So we were lucky to get this caterer. We had a Pookolam competition last year, but this year decided against it and we instead settled for a large Pookolam in the Cafeteria.

We started with the Pookolam first thing in the morning. It was a combined effort with the guys doing a much better job than the girls. They came complete with a highly technical chart of the Pookolam design and then went about the whole Pookolam design in a systematic ‘engineer’ kinda way. They cut ropes of various sizes and put them on the outline, then filled the space in between with the petals. Not very intricate like Mind Curry's but neat and clean, looked just like our glass fronted building. Someone incorporated the logo too to complete the picture…and we had the most corporate Pookolam ever :p

Me and my pal Trish, did the small Pookolam in the reception area. What it lacked in precision, it made up in design. A lamp in the centre bathed the Pookolam with it’s soft golden light. The expats in our company were the most enthusiastic lot and it was so nice to see their blond heads bent in concentration arranging the Pookolam.

A Swedish colleague Stefan came and helped me and Trish with our Pookolam and he wouldn’t get up till he felt it was picture perfect.Most memorable moment was watching Stefan cleaning up the surounding area with a broom and dust pan and shooing anyone who came within 5 feet of the Pookolam.

What stood out today was the camaraderie among the people who organized the day. There was a determination to make it as memorable as possible. The Department heads too chipped in by giving the day off for the members of the organizing committee.

Lunch was very traditional with everyone coming into the cafeteria getting the traditional sandalwood paste smeared on their forehead. One of the Teams bought mundus (lungi) for everyone in their team including the expats and it was so nice to see the full gang in traditional Kerala outfits. First time in my life I saw blond mallus. :))

As is the tradition we, i.e. mallus helped serve lunch on banana leaves as we were the hosts of the day. Our CTO an American, wore a mundu, Kerala style and served the Kaalan at the Onasadhya. It was hilarious watching him tie up his tongue into knots trying to say 'Onashamsakal’. He didn’t give up and finally managed to say it with reasonable accuracy.

There were 34 items in the Onasadhya and I think I may eat my next meal for the next Onam, I am so stuffed. By the time we sat down for our Lunch it was already 3. But that was the best part of the day. It felt really good to finish feeding the hordes and then sit down for a well deserved Onam lunch with some Malayalam songs playing in the background. It was a sight to see, a sea of people in white and gold.

This months Intranet articles was all about Onam, (cos the Intranet in Charge, me is mallu of course) and it sort of helped kick start the programme.

Unlike other festivals arranged by the Corp Comm Team, this one was very different because it had a personal touch with all of us Malayalees and some non mallus too involved in every stage. A first in the company. Our Country Head sent out a mail in the evening, saying that this was the first time that a festival had everyone in it’s grip with it’s fervour and color. Today I felt proud to be a Mallu.

Happy Onam everyone :)

Saturday, September 02, 2006

My Super Ex-Girlfriend

Warning: Do not read if you are planning to watch the movie.

I saw My Super Ex-Girlfriend yesterday night at the Symphony. It is a nice movie to watch if you want to give your brain a vacation of two hours to recuperate from being your brain.

The story line is unbelievable…literally. Luke Wilson and his nerdy needy pal Rainn Wilson are traveling by train when Rainn spots Uma Thurman. She looks spectacularly boring like most train commuters but then hey… she is Uma Thurman and you got to pick her up from the crowd to get the movie going. Apart from that there is no convincing reason why Rainn spots her with her brown toupee, spectacles and makeup less mousy face. Rainn convinces Luke to ask her out which he does quite charmingly only to be met with a ‘No’. Just when you are telling yourself ‘cant a guy take a hint?’ the movie takes a bollywood kinda turn. A bag snatcher snatches Uma’s hand bag and runs out of the stationery train. It was moving I swear, when Uma said ‘No’.

Most of the plot that provides the twists and turns in this movie are unbelievable.

Luke Wilson for one, looks good and definitely not the kind of guy who has no love life and hence is desperate enough to pick up a dull looking Uma Thurman in a suburban train.

Uma Thurman acts like a neurotic, jumpy, crazy woman on their first date, scaring the living daylights out of Luke and the audience. Besides this, the scriptwriter gives Luke enough hints as large as a mental asylum, that Uma Thurman is cuckoo, but he still asks her out for a second time, and you kinda say “he deserved it’ when things turn really bad for him.

Luke’s plan was to get laid and move on, but he makes the cardinal mistake of asking her out again, and Uma promptly falls in love with him. When he tells her that he is not in love with her, she literally hits the roof and makes a hole in the ceiling. She vows to make him pay for the rejection and flies away in a rage through the hole in the ceiling. This, of course happens on the second date.

Uma's character is full of holes, which is good actually as she does a lot of flying around in the air at supersonic speed. Adds to her aerodynamic character. She is sensible enough to appear like Superman and save the city from the stupid catastrophes thought up by the Stunt Director, but she is absolutely stupid otherwise. Perhaps the Stunt Director could have directed the entire film, as the only scenes that make sense are the Supergirl exploits of Uma Thurman. She also looks good only in the movie posters and in her G-girl avataar, losing the brown toupee and spectacles. The stunt director has taste I must say.

Then Luke realizes that he is in love with his sweet colleague Anna Faris, whose nice boyfriend conveniently gets himself caught in bed with three girls to clear the way for Luke. She promptly falls in love with him and they make love. (See didn’t I tell you that Luke doesn’t look needy?). Uma throws a live shark into their bedroom scene…the shark fortunately has better tastes and bites off huge chunks of the furniture in a feeding frenzy. Due to some personal ethics not divulged by the scriptwriter, Uma doesn’t go after Anna even though she should… logically.

Finally an ex boyfriend of Uma devices a glowing rock, similar to the one which made Uma super powerful and makes her walk into a trap set by Luke. Of course he forgets to tell girlfriend Anna not to barge in making a huge scene, which leads to the explosion of the rock making Anna also a Supergirl.

The theater was packed with nine people, out of which two were the ushers, one was a guy who kept gazing into his cellpone, besides five girls...out of whom one kept looking around thinking “I will blog about this”, another kept giggling at everything including the 'Please take care of your belongings in the theater’ slide and the ‘Nokia ad’, and another who was watching the movie like she is watching the 'Schindler’s List’ and another who kept exclaiming “The cheese popcorn is soggy, chat popcorn is spicy and the masala popcorn is too bland” etc. The fifth one is still missing.

Oh yes... before I end this rather long review, please avoid the Ice cream in the theater. It is very good actually, but not advisable to be eaten in the air-conditioned theater or you will end up writing movie reviews on a Saturday night sniffling with cold, cough and fever.

Have a nice weekend everyone.

awwwwww


Marvin by Tom Armstrong

(So true isn't it? Got this from the newspaper. Couldn't resist posting it.)

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Little big doubts

Yesterday my cousin sister left her three and a half year old daughter with me in the evening as she had to go to her doctor for a tetanus shot. She is in the eight month of her pregnancy. I took little Neetu for a walk in the evening. She comes over regularly after playschool and her mom picks her up in the afternoon. As we walked she asked me very casually if I would love her the same way as now after the new baby comes. I have seen this situation many times. So I answered equally casually that I don’t care about the new baby as I care only about her. Then she asked the same about my mom and I replied that my Mom, Dad and brothers, sister in law and dogs all love her and we are not taking some new baby we don’t even know and replacing her. She smiled slowly, a satisfied smile and then skipped ahead happily.

It looked like the conversation had taken away some worry that was eating into her for some time. I could not help feel a stab of anger against the parents. It didn’t look like they had prepared her for the arrival of the new baby. It was evident that the child had a lot of fears that were not addressed. Over dinner my Mom told them about the conversation and advised them that they should sit with her and talk to her about it. Neetu was evidently thinking that she was going to be replaced by a new baby. She didn’t look at the arrival of the new baby as a natural event as she was too small to understand it.

My Mom told them of a similar situation when I was born. My second brother apparently took it really hard and our neighbor, a child counselor helped a lot in repairing the damage caused by the fact that my parents didn’t prepare him for the event. They naturally assumed that like my eldest brother my second brother too would accept the new arrival without much ado. Anyways things turned out for the best as he realized that he had a little fan following er….crawling and the fan was quite harmless (:p)and his parents loved him the same.

Neetu’s parents were a bit taken aback by the conversation. As they left for home I hoped they would talk to Neetu and allay her fears.

Today Neetu’s Dad called up and thanked my Mom and me. Apparently the little tyke had an enormous amount of doubts, fears and some false notions about the impending arrival of the sibling and the parents were amazed at the fact that beneath the calm exterior lay a bubbling volcano of insecurity betrayed only by temper tantrums now and then.

I have decided that I am not even looking at the new baby…and I know from experience that the new baby wouldn’t care, at least not now. At present Neetu has our undivided attention :)

Saturday, August 26, 2006

The business of education

A comment by Alexis on the last post triggered this post. In the last post I described a typical working day anecdote. Small events that sometimes make you laugh. But behind this particular event lies a sad truth that is going unnoticed by the students and parents of today.

When I joined my first job in an IT MNC purely on the merit of my track record as a copywriter, there was a rush of girls in my family in Kerala to do English, Journalism and Mass Communication. Everyone thought that my present professional status was due to me taking English. Thank god for some frantic phone calls from me, which made them change their minds.

What a lot of people didn’t realize was that I have years of reading behind me that embellished my English. I am sure most people who write English have been through the same evolution. Copywriting, Content Writing, Creative Writing like Fine Arts is a talent-based profession. And the people who are now working in the communications arena are people who can pull it off. I mean make boring technical manuals into attractive and readable brochures, make website content appealing so that a potential customer goes through it and enquires about your services leading to sales. But there are thousands of students pursuing a course in Mass Communications, English and Journalism without even knowing what it entails.

Consider this. The other day a Journalism trainee was working with the Corporate Communications team as part of her College Project. The poor girl had never read any notable authors, nor could she write a line of English properly. She was near to tears when told to make a simple bulleted ppt presentation on a PR exercise done by the Corp Comm team. Over coffee I chatted up with her. She is graduating next year from a high profile private university. What she told me appalled me. She, like many others were ‘counseled’ about the scope of taking up a ‘Journalism Course’ without even checking if this girl could write English well. She is one among the 90 odd students doing this course paying almost 2 lakhs.

Another incident: My friend runs a small design studio. When she advertised for Graphic Designers, a lot of freshers turned up. All of them had been through the Multimedia course and knew the mandatory Photoshop, Corel Draw, Dream weaver etc. As I went through the process of testing them I stumbled upon another startling fact. None of these guys were artists. All of them were regular graduates who were attracted by the thought of becoming hotshot 'Art Directors’. What they didn’t realize was that Graphic Design is for artists and these softwares is just another means to transfer their art onto the computer monitor. What’s the point of giving a paintbrush in the hand of a guy who does not even know how to draw??? These poor kids knew how to operate the software but did not know how to ‘create works of art’ with it. And they too had shelled out 50 K apiece for their courses. In companies like mine only Chithra Kala Parishad or Art graduates with a Multimedia Course are allowed in as Graphic Designers. Which leaves scores of ‘Multimedia’ students out in the cold.


Students in the non-technical streams need thorough counseling so that they take up courses suited to their skills. Regular colleges don’t bother and the private universities and institutes entice students with visions of promising careers only to fill their coffers. The result, a large amount of money wasted in useless courses. These Institutes promise placement too, which is a clever arrangement with certain companies. For example students who pass out Travel and Ticketing courses are placed with small travel agencies for a pittance. The institutes have thus honored their promise, the travel agency gets cheap labor and the student soon quits, due to the abysmally low pay.

Once my Dad remarked sarcastically looking at the mushrooming institutes, that if car washing was a paying job then we would have an “ABC Car Washing Institute, 100% placements guaranteed!”

Vocational courses are big bucks now. And no one is bothered whether you have the vocation or inclination for the course.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Proof checking?

Today I got a mail from the new trainee in our team, a bright girl, fresh out of college : It said…


Hi,

Just wanted to let you know that I have completed proff chekcing of the mailers. See attachmnet.

Regards,

PM


I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

A quiver of quills

I was tagged by Jina thought I mistakenly thought it was Quills after reading her tag. Apologies Jina :) Wot to do, am growing old :p So here my tag dedicated to both of you lovely ladies :)

I am a very confident person and care two hoots about what others think except my family

I said be happy with what you have yet do not stop giving your best to everything in life

I want a world devoid of hunger

I wish that every child and dog have a loving home

I miss childhood

I hear “song sung blue”

I wonder and hence I Google

I regret nothing…yet!

I am deeply affected by human tragedies like the Tsunami, I lashed out at God and asked “Why?!” I lost a little faith when it happened. Then regained it back all over again.

I dance very well

I sing all the time

I cry at the drop of the hat. I am an expressive and demonstrative person

I am not a person who beats around the bush, am brutally frank

I write for my bread and butter and clothes, shoes, cosmetics and perfumes… :p

I confuse between Kannada and Tamil. I tend to use both while talking.

I need to have my family around.

I should stop being so friendly and open with people I meet for the first time.

I finish what I have started ...never leave things undone

I pass this on to anyone who wants to take it up.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Down under to Vailankanni and Point Calimere

Every year we go to Vailankanni in January. It is a sort of a New Year pilgrimage. My parents came here soon after they were married and then with each one of us, as we arrived. Since then we have been coming here every January. I must confess that I am addicted to this place. Apart from the visit to the shrine this place is an amazing world in itself. The whole family looks forward to the trip.

Since the beginning we have always driven down to Vailankanni as having your own transport is ideal for a family like ours, that likes to explore. The drive till Trichy is uneventful. From Trichy the sights change suddenly, as banana plantations line the road on either side of the way. Somewhere along the way, the river Kaveri joins you. It flows calmly and steadily along the way and the sight is beautiful. We always take the bypass from Trichy, which means narrow well-maintained roads via green paddy fields and more banana plantations. After you reach Thanjavur, the rice bowl of India, you enter a sea of green paddy field broken only by the narrow road. The drive is sheer pleasure and you feel you are going back in time as you rapidly leave civilization and enter a very sparsely populated agrarian region.

As you near Vailankanni, the geography changes. You can smell the sea air and the earth looks like a lumpy green blanket dotted with lots of small ponds. The bird population too changes and you see a lot of fish eating birds. The land is empty save for a few cattle grazing here and there.

There is a variety of accommodation here, our favorite is the MGM Resort bounded on three sides with green paddy fields and the main road in the front. The view from the room is breathtaking. The IT boom can be seen here too. Air Conditioned busloads of families from Kerala coming in by the hour. Last year a big family joined us as we sat with our drinks on the lawns and it became a big pot luck party. They were a group of techies from Bangalore who had joined together and taken their families from Kerala and come here. And you know when Achayans get together what happens!! Some serious vellam adi :p

An hour of driving towards the south of Vailankanni takes you to Kodikkarai also known as Point Calimere. It is bounded by Bay of Bengal on the East and Palk Straits on the South. The wildlife sanctuary here is home to bluebuck, spotted deer, wild boar, semi wild ponies, bonnet macaque, water birds like flamingoes, ibises, herons and spoonbills. Also some of the endangered reptiles like olive ridley turtles, starred tortoise, vipers and marsh crocodiles. If you go around the evening, you can see the birds returning to the beaches and scrub forests to their nests. A truly wonderful sight, and they are quite tolerant of humans.

The drive itself is a delight. You drive through a forest road with an occasional village in between and on the way you suddenly come across clearings, with the sea on both sides. The sudden appearance of the sea takes your breath away. There is intense security checking here due to the proximity to Sri Lanka. You also get to see a rock with Rama's footprint, as he is suposed to have traversed these forests during his Vanvaas.

What strikes you about this place is the silence...save for bird calls and the sounds of the sea. We stopped near a scrub forest to photograph some birds and saw an old man patiently catching small fishes for dinner in the backwater. He caught about five fishes and then folded his net and walked away. My brother who was talking to him gave him ten rupees, which he declined politely. With a straight face he told my brother that if accepts the ten rupee he will drink and hence reach home late with the fish and then his wife would beat him up :)) If you know Tamil, then you get to enjoy yet another aspect of this land…Tamil humor :)

All around you see birds, that you get to see only on Animal Planet or Discovery Channel… and silence, blessed silence all around. You feel like you are the only people on the planet.

We take the hour-long drive to Point Calimere every year. The year of the Tsunami devastation was the only time we didn’t visit Vailankanni as it was not advisable due to the outbreak of diseases. Somehow down the years, going to Vailankanni has become more than a pilgrimage. It is a time of family bonding and having our otherwise busy Dad all to ourselves. Nothing like walking with him on the beaches of Kodikkarai, listening to his gyan or just being one with Nature’s silence.

(Ideal time of year to visit:December and January)

Monday, August 14, 2006

The Sivakasi of the West

I have heard a lot of derisive comments about India and the Indian IT scene by relations who are settled in the US and are US citizens. They scoff the so-called development saying that we are the sweatshop of the West. Do I smell a hint of uneasiness or are they aware of another reality, something that I don’t see?

We have foreigners arriving at our office everyday. They are picked up from the hotel by the taxis and bought to the office. Some are our US counterparts, some are customers, some are stake holders. Sometimes the Taxis come via a circuitous route to avoid the traffic on the main road. This means going via lower class neighborhoods. Over the years I see less exclamations on the level of poverty and a more accepting attitude. As soon as they land, they are at the office and work systematically to finish their business so that they can go back as soon as possible. There is visible relief at the thought of going back. I don’t blame them. The level of pollution in the air is exhausting and the dust and grime outside can sap even the hardiest among these people. They plow through each day with methodical efficiency so that they can pack as much work as possible during their stay and go back in time. They side step dirt, overflowing sewage lines and crap like practiced veterans, ignore the filth and squalor stolidly and go back the same way they came.

Which is what makes me wonder if we really are a sweat shop of the west. I am not talking of the IT companies and the scores of people working there. I am talking of the whole set up. The rush of investments to Bangalore inspite of poor infrastructure and the resultant overcrowding, lack of basic amenities. Bangalore now reminds me of the Sivakasi, where maximum work would be extracted out of cheap labor with minimum resources. While we enjoy the firecrackers and watch the sparklers as it lights our nights with a thousand stars, we blissfully ignore the filth and squalor in which it was made. And the little children working there and their parents thank their lucky stars for the blessing of a job.

Yes, it definitely reminds me of Bangalore.

Happy Independence Day to all who stumble here...

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Peddler of woes

There seems to be a war declared on humanity, by terrorists. The recent uncovering of the mass annihilation plot doesn’t surprise or shock me. What do you expect when you arm and breed terrorists for your selfish purposes and even promote terrorism in some places to meet your economic agenda? And then they express surprise when the snake they have kept as a pet bites them!!

During the US invasion of Afghanistan, the TV footage showed the terrorists handling some very sophisticated regulation army weaponry. How did arms like these and that too in such huge quantities reach these people? There is obviously a munitions industry that makes and supplies arms. Why aren’t they regulated? Why aren’t the raw material used to make arms and ammunitions regulated? If a strict worldwide embargo on Nuclear weapons can be positioned successfully, then why not for munitions?

Instead of the exhausting and costly task of using the army to fight terror why, can’t the countries of the world get together and lay down strict regulations for arms production and sales? Guess that would shut down a lot of arms factories and be a big blow to the western economies.

If an alien were observing us from up above, he would perhaps be befuddled by the species called ‘Humans’. Always fighting, killing, scheming and aggressive over territory, water, religion and just about everything. We seem to thrive on conflicts.

From what I see, it is possible to stop escalating terror if the Western democracies have the political will to do so. You can’t peddle peace and arms in the same shop.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Untouchable

Last week I had to go to Chennai for a day. I took the morning flight and got back by the evening flight. On the way back, the flight was crowded. I had an aisle seat, seated next to me was an elderly lady and on the window seat, sat a foreigner, a white gentleman in saffron robes. As soon as we had boarded the flight and taken our seats, the white man called for the hostess and told her in no uncertain terms that he could not sit next to a woman as it was against his dharma. He had apparently checked in late and couldn’t get a seat of his choice. He asked the hostess to either find a place for him elsewhere or shift the lady to another seat. The helpless girl looked around and could not find any seat for him nor was she able to convince any male passenger to change the seat …maybe because it was a middle seat.

The white man became rather rude and told the hostess that he could not possibly sit next to the woman. I found his behavior appalling. Then he turned to the lady in the middle seat and told her that she should respect his ‘dharma’ and find a seat elsewhere. He went on to admonish her that as an Indian she should respect his ‘brahmacharya’. The poor lady was perplexed, as she was clearly not a regular traveler and got up. By this time I had had enough and told her to sit down. But she was clearly intimidated by the white man who was looking at her like she was a worm. So I told her to sit on my seat and with vicarious glee, I took the middle seat. The sight of the young and hence more ‘sinful’ woman moving next to him incensed the white man, but my don’t-mess-with-me attitude was very evident and he refrained from making anymore noises. I had planned to ‘accidentally’ touch him if he didn’t behave himself. I put my hand on the arm rest deliberately and he shrank away from me as though I was an untouchable. He remained in that position till we landed, cowering against the window like a trapped animal. He even refused the food given because it was offered by a woman and not prepared according to his strict vegetarian beliefs. Throughout the flight he kept his gaze stolidly out of the window.

When the plane landed and came to a halt, he remained seated and waited for people to disembark lest he touch a woman while disembarking I guess. He finally got up, took his cloth bag and walked out from the front exit, ignoring the hostess who stood smiling and wishing people on the way out.

I have met some of the strangest people while flying, but this guy takes the cake er …eggless cake.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Not an ad mad world anymore

This week we had advertising agencies ‘pitching’ for our product launch in some markets abroad.

Going through each presentation, I noticed something striking. Most of the creatives presented were similar. The thoughts were similar and the approach was similar. Not a single agency impressed me. There was not a single out-of-the-box kind of thinking anywhere. I cursed the time I had wasted sitting through the patronizing presentations, the loud laughs at the weakest joke that my boss made and the ingratiating attitude to please.

Nothing much has changed I realized. People still trying to pass off shitty work with well worn platitudes and hyped up PPT presentations. In fact the hype is so arranged that when they reach the part where they show the creatives or the ads, you feel so let down…..like when you open those promisingly puffy Lays packet and find two and a half pieces of potato wafers. In plain words, crap packaged in glitzy materials.

Where have all the copywriters gone? In my team of seven, all seven of us are ex-copywriters. Someone rightly called the drain of advertising talent to IT companies as, ‘talent hemorrhage’.

At present there is no panacea to stop the hemorrhage. Hope the morrow brings better news for the Indian advertising scene. Till then the 'talent hemorrhage' will go on unabated.

Monday, August 07, 2006

The ‘returning’ Malayalees



There is something I have noticed amongst us Malayalees, right from the time I was as a kid. Something strange, that perplexed me very much. On our regular visits to Kerala, we would inevitably bump into a lot of NRK’s who were also down for the vacations like us. Whether it was the usual meeting at Church, weddings or visits, what struck me as strange was a refrain that was said very eagerly the moment you met an NRK. And this was “We are going back in 10 days” or a week or some number. This was perhaps the most common thing you heard from these people. It was said very eagerly, almost as if they were reassuring themselves. The reason it perplexed me was because I knew that all NRKs looked forward to visiting Kerala.

Perhaps the visit sparks off memories of realities that were theirs not so long ago and the thought of returning back to their place of employment is kind of reassuring. I don’t know. I found an interesting article today in
The Hindu. It answers my query somewhat. Any other plausible explanations?