Agency Facts

We fight, pretty madly. We never miss a chance to blame. We are mad. But despite the madness we feel for each other.
Thank God for it!
So if one meets with an emergency, the whole lot drops their deadline and run to rescue. The bosses help with monetary support while the rest don’t shy away from moral support. Support never runs short.
If one needs a drop then the other waits (even at odd hours) to ensure that you’re dropped. While the rest of the office calls you at whatever time, just to ensure you’re safe.
If one gets fired for reasons beyond his control, the whole team puts in their paper without a thought. Just to claim their solidarity. And together the group then searches for jobs.
If one goes through a personal crisis, then the whole group combines to cheer you out. Without a question we render our support and most are understanding enough to keep your secrets, well-guarded.
Even the lowest in the rank is an important member. His thoughts and reactions are as important as the top rankers.
Loyalties are hard-earned. Boss isn’t always right here, atleast, we ensure he isn’t at times. Designations don’t necessarily earn respect but good work does. So don’t expect orders to be followed every time. Rather we prepare you to deal with mutinies at critical junctures.
Appraisals don’t happen regularly but appreciations do follow at regular intervals. Fed by appreciations, most of us don’t ask for more.
We have no cubicles but the space to turn around and say, “I can’t”. We have no flashy workplace but the freedom to do our own things like sketch in the middle of an important con-call or write a post about work in the middle of work or listen to loud numbers when client is blasting loud.
This is my work-world where every hour is different. Filled with stress and steep commitments, this is the bug called “advertising”.



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Who pays to copy?

When I was a kid, I wanted to be another ‘Kiran Bedi’ because my folks thought that would be best for me. And all I wanted to do was please them. That point of time I didn’t know about the big hurdles like clearing the competitive exam where everybody is more prepared than you, maintaining the ideal body weight for which you need hours of physical exercise and so on. All that interested me was Ms. Bedi’s smart demeanor and the dress code.
When I was a little older, I wanted to be a doctor because that is what my dad thought I should be. It is prestigious and well-paying, I thought. By that time, I knew the importance of money due to the strict parenting policies of my folks. As a rule, one chocolate a month and one eating out per month was allowed. They believed that children should be made to realize the value of money. And the fact that they belonged to humble families, might have forced them to curb my childish desires.
When I was a teenager, I started thinking of the glamour world. I thought I was God’s blessing to mankind (like every teenager does). Hence, I’ll be a boon to the entertainment industry. My folks knowing my plans bashed me royally and the idea boomed.
During college days, I started talking to myself. I realized academics aren’t cut out for me. The fact that I wasn’t good at it was another issue all together (something I hated to acknowledge). Either, I slept off during the classes or decided to save myself from the torture by bunking them religiously. But then the big spoiler was the low attendance letter hideously appeared at my doorstep. I tried a lot to hide the news from dad but failed in that too. Obviously, I was induced to some heavy shunting and a threat that ate my carefree days. He threatened that he would marry me off to the first guy he set his eyes on, if I continue to ditch classes. And marriage for me meant end of freedom, plenty of examples existed within my family to scream out the danger signs. So, the fear factor got me thinking about a career that made my presence at home minimal.
Today, I am a Copywriter and I take care of my own bills. I don’t know how I became one because a decade ago I didn’t even know what it meant. Writing was like breathing to me and I started it as long as I can remember. But I was told writers don’t get jobs because it isn’t considered a job. It is a hobby which doesn’t pay. So I tried to find out one that pays and bumped into writing for advertising. As to my folks, they still think that I copy and write. They haven’t been able to figure out why would somebody pay you to copy? Isn’t copying an offence?
I don’t even try to explain because my profession makes sure of my frequent absence from home, social gatherings and anything that I want to make an excuse of. The perks aren’t great but it gives me the freedom to think, write and above all dress without any code.

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Comma may go to coma

Oye Maa!
The learned of the language are dismissing the use of comma and planning to send it on voluntary retirement. They say that comma has served its purpose and needs to be bidden farewell.
As a copywriter, my world and work has generous seasoning of comma that only a comma can do justice to. Maybe in English, comma needs to rest but in copywriting how else can you write without a comma?
• We use it when the clients expect us to talk of different things that has no relation to each other, all in one sentence
• It rescues us when space troubles us and we need to deliver the junk, so no scope for grammar just keep adding words along with commas
• It works when you want the reader to pause and go easy on your labored work
• It is the savior when no other punctuation is available and all you can think of is the non-fussy comma because it is wholesome
• Life or clients may never give you a second chance but our dear old comma is forgiving. It keeps giving you chances to make mistake, all you do is scribble something and keep using it
• Comma has a huge fan club because of its humbleness, hence, most prefer to use it other than the rest
Personally, I love comma in every font. Rather I chose fonts based on their representation of comma. Comma has added a touch of class to my writing. It has become an inevitable part of my writing. Wondering, how will my writing survive without it?
Oh God! Comma should never die…


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I, Me and Myself

Most of us love our space. Yet, if there isn’t someone to share the space, we hate it. This hatred towards life grows further if people around have someone special in theirs. It’s funny, how the bitterness takes the best out of us seeing others happy. We don’t intend to but we end up wishing ill.
And those who deny are living in self-denial because no one can live alone. Men have a little edge in handling loneliness as they are brought up in a certain way. Their upbringing trains them to spend more hours outdoors while women are groomed to be “ghar ki sobha”. Resulting in women facing bigger challenges to fight being on their own.
Here are some of the tips which might help considering my immense experience of being on my own:
• Invest in friends who are for life-long and to whom you can pile on whenever you want.
• Develop a hobby and spend hours in it, no matter how stupid it might look to others, such as gardening, sketching, dancing or plain simple bathroom singing.
• Try to be your best friend. Go on regular dates with yourself. Do things on your own even if people might find it odd like shopping all by yourself, going for a movie, eating out alone.
• Join some social group and make an effort to attend their weekend programmes.
• Don’t isolate yourself from your family and difficult as it seems, make some time to be with them.
• Pamper yourself. Whenever you feel low, visit the all-friendly neighbourhood salon cum spa and just indulge. Don’t worry too much about the bill because you’re spending on yourself.
• Travel as much as you can. Take frequent breaks and venture out.
• Exercise in any form does help. It could be long walks, sweating it out in the gym or whatever you’re comfortable with.
• Most important treat yourself well. So cook for yourself, sometimes elaborate meals too. Dress up nicely and make every effort to look good. You never know when you’re going to bump into that special someone, so always be prepared.
• Appreciate yourself. Buy gifts for yourself. Why depend on someone else to buy you expensive stuff? When that special one comes he’ll spoil you with gifts but till then keep showering the goodness on yourself.
• Try to watch a lot of mushy romantic films because it’ll give you hope. It will ensure that you never stop dreaming of better times ahead.
• Get on the net though watch your steps closely because you might run into trouble. But make the most of the information age. Connect with people or read extensively. Choice is yours!
• Good old reading helps to ward away boredom. When you’re tired of the sounds of the idiot box, switch to books. It makes you intelligent and you can impress others with your intellect.
• Be neighbour-friendly. It will give you the advantage of dropping into their places whenever the loneliness gets too much to handle.
• Being single has one huge advantage – you’ve all the time to yourself. Do good to someone. Get involved in some social work like teach the helper’s children, babysit animal orphans, read to the visually-challenged etc. The satisfaction is immense and adds up to your sense of self-worth.


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It does hurt

Love is in the air. But in our present times, love has a restricted entry only on a particular day. The market is buzzing with greeting cards, gifts, chocolates, flowers and even personalized items to get soaked in this fever of love. And whenever we think of love, heartaches are complimentary.
Relationships have gone complicated but it still hurts:
• When you see the rich going on a shopping carnival at the cost of depriving the ones who work for them. Ditto a famous industrialist who recently rolled out a whooping amount to shop a Cricketer for an upcoming cricketing tournament. While his employees are running from pillar to post to make him pay their wages.
• When you read a new born baby of few days dumped on a garbage bin or in public transport by a family member just because it is a “girl”.
• When a toddler is raped by no stranger but someone she knows and depends upon. She is too young to even realize her pain but the perpetrator is well-prepared and planned.
• When a tribal woman is punished for falling in love to an extent that suddenly the entire village men gets the license to enjoy her. Sadly, they are her own people and the torture is carried to such greater lengths that she has lost all account of how many times they violated her.
• When a young life was wasted just because he belonged to the North-East and looked different from the region he migrated to gain education. And mind you, it wasn’t even a different country.
• When political parties are busy washing their dirty linens in public, accusing each other and giving us no reason to hope for better.
• When a veteran artist awarded with Padma Vibhusan has to plea for years, without any success, to find a home where she can spend the rest of her life.
• When a brave soldier gives the ultimate sacrifice and his family has to do the rounds with the influencers to keep their lamps burning.
• When the talented have to leave the country to make a mark in the world. We have the best brains but still face the problem of brain-drains.
• When a life is lost and nobody even gets to know until nature’s law starts spreading the decomposed smell. Sometimes, even the neighbour’s have nothing to divulge, not even a name at times.
• When many precious lives are lost on roads failing timely assistance by the passers-by due to fear of law enforcer’s harassment resulting in delayed medical attention.


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Oh no! Not again…

Some people just love to give “gyaan”. Hours and hours of lecture on anything and everything. Be it the office meetings or personal ones. They never miss the slightest chance to preach. Whether people are asking for it is immaterial as long as they get an opportunity to display the greatness through tortuous hours of sermons.
Believe it or not, the higher we climb up in life, the higher inclination to preach. And the lowly mortals (for reasons of their own) are held captive to long speeches. The circle is vicious, hence, when these lowly mortals, get their time, they preach downwards to find closure to their torture. The idea is not to do good to someone, but, rather to inflict what you’ve suffered.
Even funny is the fact when people give you personal advice without knowing you personally. Sometimes you can’t resist fearing the repercussion of non-adherence to authority. So all you do is nod and nod some more. Because if you don’t you will have to suffer added hours of torture. Wonder why didn’t Hitler use this technique in his concentration camps? How could he miss such an effective weapon?
The sufferings are sure to get worse if you have the company of someone who is a good orator. Communication skills can be a burden then as the orator would love to practice the skills on you. Haven’t you heard, the more you practice the better you get? So be aware when in the company of people who speak well.
The best part about these “gyaanis” is that they can build everything in air like a castle, an international career for you, country’s future, rupee hike, inflation fall etc. You name it and they can do it. But they come with a big term and condition (as most retail outlets selling Hot Sale Deals where the word ‘upto’ is hideous). Their rule is simple, they build only through big talks. They are forever on planning mode and have no time to think of worldly details like execution.
Another point of observation is that it is always their way or no way. They think they have the best solution even when you haven’t asked them for one. Quite obvious, when the Earth rotates according to their advice, how dare you to refuse this precious commodity? Nothing is more knowledgeable to them than themselves. They go to the extent of preaching the little Master of Indian Cricket on how to hold the bat, the Tagore of literature on how to hold the pen, the Maradona of Soccer on how to launch a kick and so on. Then who are we?
The preachers come in all age, shape, size and gender. The minute they open their mouth, you just know you’ve run into one. They don’t charge a penny for their service but can render you redundant if you keep listening to them for long. Don’t ever expect them to help because they are incapable to act. They don’t like disagreement so keep agreeing to whatever they say to safe your sanity. If you don’t, well, risk the chance of losing your mind.


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Are we educated enough?

“Hey, chinki!”The guys screamed at the two girls from North-east origin. The girls so used to the term did what they always did, simply ignore the lusty eyes. This was a regular scene some ten years back in the Delhi University area where a large population of the North-eastern came to get educationally-equipped.
The recent case in the capital where a young life was lost due to a racist brawl, tells a tale of stagnant times. When technology is changing lives, global education is expanding our horizons, middle class is gaining power- our awareness about our own country hasn’t increased. India is a land of diversities. How sad is that we Indians are so challenged in our knowledge about our own country? And this has been happening from times immemorial.
In Delhi, anybody from the North-east is termed as “chinki” courtesy to the similarities of their physical features with people from China. People from South are termed as “madrasi” because to the north, only Madras now Chennai, exists in the south. People from East are called “Bangladeshi” because of language similarities although “Bangladesh” is not even a part of sovereign India. And amazingly these are some of the popular perceptions of the educated lot in the capital.
The complete lack of knowledge about India persists in the corporate culture too. I was once shocked to hear a colleague confidently declaring that Gujarat is a part of Chennai. And when corrected, he seems too reluctant to acknowledge the blunder. If this is the state of general knowledge in the capital of the country, God bless those from the remotest areas.
Indians, world-wide are a huge number to reckon with. Many people of Indian origin are making it big in their respective careers (without being discriminated). At the same time, many lament about the racism they have to counter in their daily routines. Media brings those cases to highlight and we unite in discontentment. But what about the rapid racism our own people have to go through just because the larger lot is geographically-challenged? What about the complete lack of apathy towards people who have migrated from their place of birth to the big cities for better opportunities?
Maybe our education system needs to be re-structured to include a more basic knowledge about the country which is home to people of interesting diversities. Till the time we fail to know each other well, nothing can be attained. Till the time, our own people keep meeting such end, in their own country, future looks bleak.
Let’s atleast get to know each other better before we venture out to pick international accents, international cuisines, international careers. Because without knowing our own people well, we just can’t know the world, better.
Hope the eve-teasers stop teasing Northern-eastern women with a term they have no link to. Hope our knowledge of South grows beyond Madras (which has ceased to exist long time back). And pray, we don’t claim another country (Bangladesh) as ours because we have enough population of our own to adopt the people of a neighbouring nation.

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Have you failed?

Sometimes it’s just not enough. No matter how much you stretch, how well you crack or how well you present-you fail. And whatever age you are in, you just hate failures. Failures feel the same. They hurt badly, much worse than the cuts of an accident.
The many failures of our lives that we have to deal with, the pain still persists for most:
• Failure to express and you see the special one being stolen away by somebody else
• Failure to make the relationship work, no matter how hard you tried
• Failure to say “no” and keep toying with other’s ideas knowing it’s bound to bounce
• Failure to negotiate your happiness (for me my salary too at most times)
• Failure to get a break of your choice even when you’ve given your best shot (like I lost St. Stephens on just 1 mark)
• Failure to attract the one you’re attracted to and attracting the ones you want to evade (why does love, love the triangle shape?)
• Failure to kill people with killing looks (why do lookers have it so easy?)
• Most importantly, the failure to launch – making people realize that you’ve arrived (why can’t everybody be a hit like the Khans of Bollywood?)
• Failure to write because you want to write (why does it take so much of an effort to get an idea, I mean the real one not some mobile service provider)
• Failure to save the loved ones from diseases and witness them perish right infront of our eyes
• Failure to ask anyone for anything while the rest of the world enjoyed the gains as they’ve demanded openly (for me I’ve never known the delight of spending pocket money because I’ve never asked for it)
• Failure to ask people for help because we’ve been taught to do things on our own


Sharing the failures isn’t easy. The pain doesn’t go but it certainly lightens the burden carried by the soul. Try it, it works!


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A love story

“When was the last time you brought me flowers?” she questioned him tearfully. “You don’t even remember what day is it, do you?” she continued.
He had no answers because he didn’t have any. He never thought that it was such a big deal for her.
She was very depressed because it was Valentine’s Day. Her friends and colleagues had all plans fixed for them, well in advance. And here she was hoping the man would remember the day and bring something for her. He disappointed her tremendously.
When he came back from work, she greeted him in anticipation. She thought he is planning to surprise her. She thought he would take her out for dinner. She didn’t even change thinking they would have some plans tonight. She kept hoping and waiting.
On the other hand, he changed quickly and sat down to unwind with his favourite sports channel. He was busily watching a re-run of a soccer match and cheering at stuff, she had little clue about. She hated sports and especially soccer. Ten years of being together and yet she couldn’t gather the fun part of watching replays, again and again.
She was heartbroken by 8 and reluctantly entered the kitchen to fix dinner. Her over-confidence had made her give an unwarranted leave to the cook tonight. The good-old-khichri was the only resort. “Who eats khichri on a Valentine’s evening?” she cried to herself.
Just then, the man happened to make an entry to grab his beer. He was shocked to see her in tears. “It surely isn’t that time of the month, then, what did I do wrong?” he introspected.
He frightfully patted her to find out. Right then, the volcano erupted. There was no point of return for him. He knew from experience the virtues of silence. He put the idiot box on mute and tried to not make any sound. He quietly, gulped the distasteful khichri because in her furry she had skipped the seasoning part. She didn’t realize because she skipped dinner. He knew well not to insist too much.
Next morning, when she got up, he was at the gym. She struggled to get out. Her stomach was making that infamous growling sound. She hurried to the kitchen. And there, she found a wholesome breakfast waiting for her to pounce. She finished every bit of it but hunger was hard to satiate. Suddenly, she remembered of the left over khichri. Warmed it in the microwave and ate the first mouthful. The khichri was too revolting and she threw up.
Right then, he entered and she asked him “How did you manage to eat this?”
He replied, “With great difficulty, actually, but you were already so upset didn’t want to add to your woes.” He continued, “But why did you eat that I made breakfast for you?”
Her eyes grew moist and she ran to the comfort of his familiar arms.


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