| Wednesday, November 16, 2005 |
| Historical Data. |
And Mr. Goyel ...
Sir, It's Goyal ... with an 'A'.
Interrupt me again, or call me 'sir' again, and you'll be out of creative and reporting to the ugliest, smelliest, most brain dead account executive here.
I nodded.
So, Mr. Goyel, don't use any fucking cliches.
I stared at him, blank.
Oh hmmm. You probably don't even know what the fucking cliches are.
He looked at me, sizing me up.
Well Mr Goyel, if you have half a brain you'll know the cliches in a month's time. Don't resort to them once you know them. Or I'll fire you.
But you haven't hired me yet.
Wiseguy, if you're still here six months from now, I'll hire you. Now fuck off.
I turned to leave.
And listen, coffee is upstairs, cigarettes you can bum from me, Rum from Mahesh and Vodka from Michael. You're old enough to smoke and drink I presume, Mr. Goyel?
Yes I'm 19 ...
That's ok, I didn't ask for your fucking birth certificate. Now fuck off.
Before I could turn.
And listen, if you're ever short of ideas, which I'm sure you will be, just look around you. My secretary, the receptionist, the fat ugly bitch who's always sitting outside on the steps and smoking, the canteen boy, the proofreader downstairs, the waiter from the udipi, even our CEO, though I have my doubts about him sometimes ... there are several stories inside all of us. Nod your head if you get me, Mr. Goyel.
I nodded.
Welcome to advertising.
PS: New look courtesy Kavi. She's a rockstar. |
posted by n.g. at 23:22
(0) Peg(s) of Whisky
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| Friday, November 04, 2005 |
| Falling. |
What do you feel when you're overwhelmed? Do you feel goosebumps on your skin piercing through your heart as a vicious reminder of a distant memory? Do you feel a lump that starts from the small of your stomach and finishes in your throat before you know it? Do you feel utter helplessness, a vacuum that you can't figure out as empty or hollow? Do you feel the insatiable urge to succumb and break down just to give in to the beginning and the very end of that feeling - when something suddenly reminds you of the time you were drinking chai on her terrace and she was right by your side talking nineteen to the dozen but little did you know that it was the last time you would see her? When you buy a portion of dal-chawal for the street kid instead of giving him money and he looks at you gratefully as if you bought him a slice of all the world's happiness? When you see an epitome of the undeniable rat race of ours as a blimp in the sky and all you can do is feel happy for him thanks to a reason you know isn't legitimate? When you watch a news piece about a poor couple from some nondescript village who have invested their life savings on their only son who suffers from cancer of the bone marrow, knowing that they're fighting a lost battle? When you think of all the mistakes you've made and the people you've hurt and even after the water's run dry it doesn't get any easier to deal? When you watch Dhoni finishing the match off in his trademark style with a huge six followed by the heartwarming display of camaraderie that ensues between the entire team? Even in the diwali promo on CNBC that has all the people who work behind the scenes wishing you, the viewer, a very happy diwali? When the Earthquake toll keeps rising and so does Pakistan's interest in buying F16s from the US? When you watch a film dedicated to the 6 million jews murdered in the worst possible holocaust in human history and you liken it to the Jallian Wala Bagh tragedy which may not be similar in numbers but was as cold-blooded in nature?
I feel like a cigarette when that happens. And resisting the urge for a smoke is way easier to deal with. |
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posted by n.g. at 20:23
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Name: n. g.
Home: Bombay, India
About Me:
this fire is burning and its outta control its not a problem you can stop its rock and roll.
See my complete profile
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