I must put up a fancy disclaimer to save my life, lest I be labelled as unreasonably cynical, corporate suck-up, annoyingly opportunistic or anti-democracy. But, screw you. If one man is allowed to throw a fit and threaten the nation like a child so the PM meets him and the media showers generously, so much attention on him, then am allowed to put this up on a blog created by the self with not even 20 people who actually read this.
Take this all in good humour. If you can't, you don't pay me to write this anyway, so you can condemn my power of acute observation and shrug it off as cynicism (Yeah, that's B Shaw's excuse, not mine).
Happy Meals to Save the day: In an attempt to display it's supremely philanthropic and regionally "customized" concern, Mc Donald's should have sponsored the breaking of the rather famed fast, the first time round itself. Picture this: Anna Hazare and his supporters sitting there eating Mc Donald's Happy meal- happiness ka formula. Breaking of the fast, brought to you by Mc Donald's. Headlines: Happy meals save the nation/ Happy meals for a happy nation/ A truly happy meal... I could go on. If by any chance, you happen to be the news guys reading this, maybe you could pay me to come up with the headlines. I'll do a mighty good job, clearly.
Candle-making Business: For the longest time, I thought this was the best occupation for the rich housewife. I could blame my origin and loud community for making me want to never take up a job, find a really rich man and run this business from his money. But today this has taken a new meaning altogether. We underestimate the potential of them white candles. Existing candle makers could come up with 'candles for a cause'- customized candles to every national calamity/disaster/newsworthy bullshit could be created. So you can now buy candles that are specifically anti-corruption or terrorism. And keep a few for the rainy day- when a schoolgirl is allegedly killed by her parents or a journalist is raped. The entrepreneur in me is now alive and kicking and am on my way to weaving world peace- one candle at a time.
New Advertising Space: I'm in the media industry, so I'll refrain from taking any names (Unless of course you decide to start paying me for updating my blog so I can quit this life of corporate slavery). But when you're in the 'business' of media, you need the advertisers to be able to be run the business. It's a mad world out there, trying to constantly 'innovate' your offerings to the marketeers. It's a madder world for the marketeers as they go to any lengths to just get 'noticed' or create 'awareness' about their brand. I say, screw the large sums of monies you pay to media houses to get the front page ad or the first TV spot during a break. Instead, invest in a simple hoarding with your brand logo on it and get your employees to stand in Azaad Maidan, VT station, Janatar Mantar, Ramlila Maidan. With the amount of coverage Anna-man is garnering, you are bound to get screen space (not only for 60 seconds, but throughout the goddamn day across all channels). Your employees will happy to get a day off excel and you can join the entertainment industry that television journalism has reduced itself to.
Branded Nehru Caps: It's the latest trend and it is after all fashion for a cause! So I say, produce different types of the Nehru cap. Each category can be produced with different materials and priced differently to cater to all segments- be it the nearby dabbawala, the middle class hysteric or the rich housewife who joins the 'movement' straight after blowing kisses at a high tea.
Anna Hazare mobile app: So what if you're busy licking some corporate ass and cannot physically be a part of the march? You can play the game on your mobile phone/tablet. The game starts with you being given a certain duration of the fast, or maybe even a fast unto death- this needs to of course be customized every hour considering how fickle minded the GOI or Delhi Police can be. Every time Digvijay Singh or his other associates who make us proud to be Indian, open their mouth, the duration fo your fast gets extended. However, every time you report a case of corruption, the fast duration is reduced by a day. Once you've done a considerable number of 'good deeds', BJP honours you and may even offer you a position in their party. Good deeds of course as per their definition so expect feeding the cow, kissing Baba Ramdev, slapping women in short dresses, etc. However, considering that most of the cases you will report, will probably include a BJP member, you might want to run back to the GOI. At the end of it all, if you manage to survive the fast, you will be called the 'real rajnikanth' and you'll win yourself a chance to throw arrows at bullets in the air with the man.
Anna-man bedtime tales or comic books: An Anna a day keeps sanity at bay.
Anna-brand Energy Drinks: Do you know why Anna can remain fit despite the starvation? Because as a child, he consumed enough of X brand's energy drink/ vitamin tablets. Boost is the secret of his energy!
Anna's own management DVDs: You know, the kind of DVD they sell on TV shopping shows/channels- the set of management DVDs that apparently improve your negotiation, management, leadership and team building skills and make you a 'sought after corporate professional'. Shiv Khera type of books too! '"Learn leadership from the man who built the nation for the second time'.
'What's your jan lokpal personality?' Facebook quiz: By answering ten simple questions, you can find out your personality match! Are you a Baba Ramdev or Anna Hazare or Digvijay Singh personality type? Who knows, your personality could be a perfect match to that of the lousy opposition too! What's more, you can publish your result on your wall and share it with your friends and find out their lokpal personality!
Cadbury sponsored Shubh Aarambh- Koi bhi shubh kaam karne se pehle, kuch meetha ho jaye! So imagine the all the jan lokpal supporters standing in a line and breaking open cadbury dairy milk chocolates in unison before they begin their fast. Couple this with the classic slow music in the background. Ah! India Shining it shall bloody be.
The writer seldom edits/proof reads her posts before push-button-publishing them so you will find grammatical errors and typos. Bear with them. (this could be a disclaimer to all the posts on this blog, no?)
This post reflects solely the opportunistic nature of the blogger which results in her taking advantage of lunch break at work to desperately try and gather some social media popularity. This does not reflect her own personal, thoughts, opinions or assumptions, lest she be threatened of physical or emotional torture owing to the nature of the post.
The writer has been single throughout her life and not only is this her state-of-being but has infact become a part of her personality. If any reader knows otherwise about her love life, she requests you to keep shut and let her live in denial. She likes it that way.
The writer does not mean to condescend or mock this state of being lonely or alone or depressed or however one wants to define it. She's just bored, yeah.
Disclaimer: These profound observations may have been a consequence of personal experience. However, let's let my profession, workplace, 'does she really work there?' kind of queries rot in ambiguity. Refrain from mentioning any names or whatever it is you do know about my personal life, as comments to this post, lest of course, you want this space to be deleted and your favourite blogger (yeah, that's what I say to myself every night in front of the mirror) be mercilessly thrown behind bars (the kind that don't have karaoke equipment).
I usually avoid specifics and beat around the factual bushes to spin a cobweb of stories seemingly based entirely on the dramatics of my imagination, but the current environment calls for specifics, heck it does. So you learn many things, when you work for a fashion magazine- things you may not learn anywhere else:
You become partially ambidextrous. Why 'partially'? Because you can now apply nail paint even with your left hand. However, when it comes to carrying files and other important 'documentation', both hands fail and that heap of files/loose sheets will always be dropped at a place where you're visible to the entire office.
Women bitch. What's new, you ask me? Well, women mostly bitch about how bitchy the other women are. It's a vicious circle of a magnitude greater than Indian Poverty. Women love to bitch about the women who bitch. The word 'bitchy' when used in reference to someone else is always a weapon of insult but when used with reference to oneself is a matter of great pride. When a woman calls herself bitchy, the word implies bravery, wisdom, victory and a sense of having learnt to deal with the world and it's hurtful ways.
You might have spent your life biting your nails and taking digs at frivolous conversations on manicures, but when you work at a fashion magazine you will start to worry about chipped nailpaint. It's inevitable. Almost as inevitable as gravity itself. When you're reviewing rather fastidiously an excel sheet that does not make any sense, your eyes will suddenly be blinded by the chipped nailpaint that you proudly walk around with. In a moment like this one, you're bound to start worrying about how long you've been wearing the same nail colour, when you will get time to change it and why the heck you don't keep the filer in your office drawer.
"Late Nights" are a valid excuse to be late the next morning: I am not joking. When you're late to work and are thinking of creative new excuses to cover up for your sleepy-headedness, a glance through the other entries for late-coming will certainly amuse you. "late night" in this world is a perfectly valid reason to come late the next morning!
How fashion forward you are is determined by the depth of your accent. An accented version of the English language is a must in this place. You may have never seen any other country apart from India except for pictures on the internet, but thou shall definitely sport a non-Indian accent. It does not matter if the nasal voice and decibel level that accompanies the accent makes you audible only to the dogs (and wolves, maybe?), thou shall still have the accent.
Alu Cheese sandwich is frowned up but blueberry cheese cake and super-chocolate cupcakes aren't. When you eat an alu cheese sandwich or extra butter dosa, you're reminded of how sugar on the lips adds to the hips and how you may not be able to afford any such additions, but cupcakes and cheesecakes are just fine- they're all yummy and don't make you fat.
The eyes do nothing more perfectly than condescend: The eyes are supposed to be super-expressive, right? It's said that the eyes usually give away what's unsaid. Well, those were the words of the blue sky-staring poor poets on the road who dream of a house on the rainbow. I'll tell you the real thing. The eyes can be an instrument of supreme insult when there is need and when there is absolutely no need. When they roll up or size you up in a second or tilt slightly south-westward in order to express paramount disdain towards you, you'd shudder in fright and want to rush to a mirror to see what skin disease it is that has taken over you.
The interns wear the most make up. It's a fact. But, cut them some slack. They are under supreme pressure to 'look the part'. So what if their job role entails handing out print outs to their seniors? They can atleast look the part right. So bring in layers of foundation, alien-ish eye shadows and really dark lipsticks (yes, lipsticks, not lip glosses). Also, to add to the effect, they will pioneer some chunky, sparkly, strange jewellery and walk around with pride about being the change agents of the fashion industry.
When you're told you don't need to be very dressed up, do not take it seriously. Or at least listen to the whole bit. A statement like that is usually followed by 'You could just carry a nice bag and wear nice shoes with a nice top'. Nope, don't sigh with relief just yet. You'll know what this really means when you hear the last line. "Like I plan to just carry that Chanel bag of mine and those jade Jimmy Choos i bought along with the classic lbd. But oh yeah, i guess I'll do a bit of make up for what it's worth."
You're going to learn new words/phrases everyday. Sample these- Boyfriend Jacket, Ruby Woo, spring-summer, fall-winter, pre-fall, 'fashion for a cause'
You get enough time to update your blog :)
I hope this post is read before it is instructed to be deleted.
in that one moment of truth, we learn to get along with the greatest falsehood.
We lie about being seekers of truth. Intrinsically, we're just all constantly learning to accept various degrees of pretense as it's closest replacement. We do this of course, in the most humane way possible. And we do this without shame, just as hypocritically as we use who we want to be as a valid excuse to be who we really are.
It's been a while since I typed out a long, incorrectly punctuated essay of grief and complain about the status of my life and my genuine disregard for and baseless cynicism towards humanity and it's ways.
I like cryptic. Actually, let me rephrase that one- I like being cryptic. It ensures a hiding place for me while the world leads its fancy life speaking a language so slang, it burns my ears. I also like fun bullet-pointed posts on random observations of human behaviour. It makes me believe I can study anthropology someday and also that people will read my blog to get great advice for life.
But there are days, when you're physically hiding under covers and almost making love to your bed because you do not want to get up and face humanity. Days, like these recent ones where you go back to the realization that you still don't know what really matters. On days like these, it's best to let the mind free and let the fingers type away to glory the words that bother you, that are on your mind and will be seen on the screen, but words that will never reach your mouth or be heard. Words that will form a long essay devoid of purpose, per say but will relate to a certain part of everyone, nevertheless.
It's been a mad bloody ride. 2 months of this new life i'd been preparing myself for, for as long as I can remember. But these 2 months seem like a lot more than just 61 days. I am going to leave the specifics and "learning" for another post that shall be bullet-pointed and posted only after 3 months are over. For now, let's stick to- I've said my hellos and I've bid my goodbyes. Its been one heck of a ride!
What's amusing is that while the bullet pointed things in life- excel sheets, marketing meetings, career, targets, housing problems, transportation issues, financial standing matter to a great deal because they're what make 'the plan', what really makes the personality or decides how much of an emotional overhaul you're going counter is the vague part of life. I thought i used ambiguity as a cover because I don't like definitions- they remind me of restrictions and any form of restriction equals suffocation. But suddenly I am caught between it all- caught in a web that might have been self-spun but cannot be self-erased.
Little things matter.
Emotions are not underrated.
So I sit on my bed wondering if I can just sleep it off. You can delay decisions, procrastinate on work but how do you sleep off experiences? You can stop obsessing over the experience and fool yourself into believing the bad feeling has evaporated, but it still sits there right? It stays put and takes a permanent spot inside your being looking for the right moment to remind you of it's life. It's a damn opportunistic thing, this bad feeling. What do you do about how experiences shape you? This must happen to all of us, no? People and the experiences they gave you always leave a part of them with you and maybe they take a part of you away. But you only feel the part that's left behind.
You know how people ask you all the time what would you do today if you knew you were dying tomorrow? Well, if it wasn't tomorrow and say there was a fixed date, I'd think on the lines of the country and I'd think on the lines of literature. Surprisingly enough, am doing none of that right now but I just know or maybe like to assume/believe, that I'll get there.
But if you say to me I'm dying tomorrow, all I'd really want to do is talk to every person I've encountered in my life and tell them exactly how they made me feel.