Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The feeling.

It's a deep breath just before you pull the interview chair.
It's holding your head before saying 'It's ok, i'll take care'.

It's a nervous smile before she grabs your hand.
It's power stance before the stage lights hit your trembling hand.

It's a watering eye at the optician’s place.
It's a pounding heart before the first kiss and embrace.

It's a racing heart after you've just accomplished the impossible.
It's a blank stare when your boss just blamed you for something unfathomable.

It's death after you've had one too many slices of that apple pie.
It's emptiness as you lie awake and alone in bed, fried.

It's contempt when the day is going to blend.
It's madness when you know she's on the next bend.
It's insanity when you're on a weekend.
It's blocked when you near the end.

Friday, August 26, 2011


It’s tough to write a blog. I’m not being all philosophical here. It just is.

At any given point in time, there’s more than one thing in my head. So to really pinpoint something worthwhile to talk about is hard.

And then there are out-of-body factors. The constant keys being forced into submitting words, by the copywriter sitting behind me. Random videos fuelling random thoughts that play on the art director’s head and screen right next to him. A servicing guy who’s always talking/arguing/theorizing/pretending to socialize with life, in some other corner. A business head’s muffled words coming in through his glass cabin. People playing tt to get the balls off their head. And the general distraction of a video I’ve been successfully been trying to load since a long time.

I’m on a full stop again.

Breaks don’t help when I’m writing my blog. I get distracted easily.


Monday, June 13, 2011

Let’s get down about leaving the toilet seat up.

Yes I said it. Women all over the universe are complaining about leaving the toilet seat down. But in fact (I think) that’s the stupidest thing to do.

1. Women think guys are lazy fucks. And yes they are. So if they are lazy enough to not bother keeping the seat up/down whenever they start/finish their business, they wouldn’t care less for what deposits they leave on the seat. And if you be sharing the house with only one male member, then it gets even worse. Coz he doesn’t care if it’s his own deposit he’s sitting on when he’s giving a ‘deposit’. He’ll just toilet paper it and move on. (multiple male members in the family will change that equation…mind you)

2. Have you ever pondered about how many germs lay inside the bowl? And that these germs can fly onto the seat when it’s flushed. Think about it. (Seat up…good. Seat down…not so good!)

3. You want the seat down. We want it up. So you take it down when you want to and we’ll take it up when we want to. Simple. And if you don’t want point number 1 (pun was truly unintentional) to happen, then just leave the rule to ‘KEEP SEAT UP’

Problem solved. What say?

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Crick Beer Dot Com

It’s just after lunch in office. It’s the Ind-Pak match right now. And I couldn’t care less.

There’s beer in office and the match on the big screen. You can pretty much guess what I’m facing and what I’m not.

I actually don’t mind the match, just that I can see the world losing precious work hours over it. Not that I’m being all productive and shit with this open word doc and a beer in hand… but I’m thinking of all those others who are toggling between excel sheets and cricinfo.in or whichever site that is… (apparently, using ellipses drives home the point… or so I assume)

I’m glad they be putting the match on all 4 corners of this office. I’m catching up on all the useless crap we call ads. Yes I said it right. We believe we in a business to make some sense out of Brand Advertising. I don’t know if any of us actually succeed.

Call me a pessimist.

No! seriously… call me a pessimist. I won’t get pissed off. All I will do is gently sip my beer (Like so. Imagine me sipping my beer …right about …here)

My ears hurt…. Because everyone in the office holds a whistle to their lips. The kind that will want you to rather put a knife to your groin then hear it.

A balloon burst somewhere in office. Guess that has nothing to do with the blogpost… but it just happened…just saying!

Some people in office still managing to work. I applaud them. Some people just have to go back to the rut, irrespective of the beer. You guys ROCK!

I’m now sleepy. And I’d rather post this before I decide not to.

Cheers. Beer is waiting.

Friday, February 04, 2011


I’ve been afraid of this word doc. It’s blank and it’s staring me in the face. Like ‘Haha! You want to write something on your dam blog, but I won’t let you to!’ I’ve been seriously wanting to scrap, but I don’t know what to talk about.

Speaking of scrap, I recently deleted my orkut account. I was afraid I’ll accidentally delete something important. But then again, it’s Orkut yaar. What more did I lose, other than just a space on the web.

I remember the days of orkut. Random people checking out random photos. People wanting to make ‘friendship’ and people peeing on your wall (Happens even now on facebook… but not as shoddily and shamelessly as it used to happen on Orkut)

But it’s over and done with. I have committed Orkutish Suicide.

How bored does a man have to get to commit online suicide?

I deleted my orkut coz someone reminded me of something that was written on it. And it was actually spam. And I for one don’t want anyone to actually think I have written that shit. Next thing you know I got the FBI after my ass.

Female Body Inspector

I HATE CORNY T-Shirts. And I hate people who want to wear corny T-shirts like they didn’t see it before picking it themselves /accepting one from someone.

Fat obese guy: Think Big
Guy who looks like a Banana Vendor: I was made for you baby.
Guy who resembles a Sweeper: Am I hot or what?

Free ka maal hai that doesn’t mean you go about wearing it.

And it’s not just the guys. Have you seen that stupid thing some women in Mumbai wear which says ‘I have a face above these’

(I don’t care if you have a face. I don’t want to stare at your Tee thinking what a fool you are while you wonder …..Oh why is he looking at my ‘these’?)