Cocktail of Sour Grapes & Sweet Dreams

I remember I was in school when I first realized how much the world of advertising fascinated me. The advertisements always interested me more than the daily soaps they were interspersed with (and not the other way around).

I was born and brought up in Chandigarh and while my parents gave me full liberty to choose an academic course after school, my town offered only 4 choices – Medicine, Engineering, Commerce and Arts. I opted for Engineering because it was the “in” thing for students who were considered half-intelligent.

I opted for Electrical Engineering and failed miserably in the third year, after which I started all over again with Computer Science Engineering. I was too stupid to understand that the problem was not with the branch of engineering I had chosen. The problem was engineering itself. But by then, I had taken the failure to heart and in a silly do-or-die mode that surfaces all too often, I decided I would become an engineer even if it took me the rest of my life. Of course, it did take me three plus four, which makes a total of seven years to get a graduation degree.

After a little bit of soul-searching and several days of Google-searching, I realized what I wanted to do was get into Advertising somehow or the other.

To make a long story short, I was disillusioned by a long list of irrelevant trash posted on Google which implied that to make it big in the Advertising industry, one must understand the marketing practices and so I invested a few years to be called an MBA.

When I finally found myself in the midst of Advertising Professionals, I realized I was just an over-qualified idiot in the organization who could have easily started her career 5 years ago.

Six months, countless conversations and three meaningful meetings later, I realized that I was a bigger idiot than I was giving myself credit for - because I was right where I always wanted to be but on the wrong side of the bridge.

Do you know what it feels like when your mind is painting rainbows and your hands are working on statistics that nobody really needs (or reads)?

Well, that is exactly what I felt when I took up a job in Client Servicing. And maybe it is time that I stop being so harsh on myself. Because the advertising industry may be fascinating, glorious and the most under-rated of all, but it is also horribly structured.

It’s like a nest that has been weaved over the years by some very hard working birds, who managed to decorate it with brilliant layouts and commendable content, but who forgot how to pass the art over to their next generation. Now don’t get me wrong. The next generation had ambitious plans and a hitherto unmatched creative spark and it worked harder and better than the birds who laid the foundation of the nest. But they worked so hard, they turned the cozy little nest into a cocoon with a narrow entry.

Every year, hundreds of thousands of people like me who would gladly chuck their MBA and Engineering degrees into a dustbin to work for peanuts as a copywriter enter the market. Every year, we fight to get a chance to get our foot into the door. We take whatever is offered to us. We don’t argue over the remuneration or the job profile. Why? Because it’s hard to get a job in a good ad agency. You have to be recommended. You have to do a course that the students and mentors alike say is pretty useless.  And if you’ve made one wrong turn in your life, you are an overqualified idiot who does not deserve to be in advertising. So what if writing is your passion? So what if you can point out typographical errors to the senior copy writer? So what if you have half a million better ideas than the people who are paid to think of ideas? You are in account management. Your job is to be the mediator between the agency and the client. And if you have any creative urges, you can shove it up or leave.

And so I left.

And then it dawned on me. Maybe I was never going to be taken back in the industry. I cannot prove my creative urges in an interview when the interviewer is more interested in the neckline of my shirt than my words.

It’s been a month since I’ve been unemployed. And some would say that I am over-reacting.

But if you have ever had a burning ambition that turns into water and falls from your eyes, you would understand. And you would agree. 

I don't need a crown to rule
I don't need a gun to duel
It may get tougher to earn my daily bread
But my words will be around long after I'm dead.

Advertising Professionals or Adrenaline Junkies?

Have you ever wondered what drives people to take part in reality shows such as Fear Factor (and its 101 Indianised versions, except of course Roadies on MTV, which really should have been named Wannabes instead)?

Do you honestly believe its only the money? The fame? The beautiful opportunity to eat worms and feel snakes slithering on their bodies?
We all know there is a little something over and above these reasons that sends men and women knocking on the doors of auditions for these shows every year. It's the inexplicable thrill of doing something they've never done before. Of facing a fear that's so deep rooted, it spreads its tentacles like a persistent octopus.
There is a need to face those challenges that actualises itself into a want and takes form of an act that's bone-chilling and often disgusting and gruesome to some viewers.
Sure, people who audition for these shows are required to be physically fit, mentally strong, often abusive to their challengers and a treat to the eyes.
But what of those who don't make the mark and still feel the need to put themselves into death-defying, character abrasive and uncomfortable situations? What becomes of those who can create such situations and get out of them too, all with the conviction of one who requires no provocation to do so.
These people make a career decision that puts them into difficult situations on a daily basis.
They decide to join the Advertising Industry in India.
It starts just the same way that the show works.
We first go for auditions, which the HR people insist on calling interviews to give a more professional feel to the process. Have you noticed that the anchors and judges who sit in on auditions are usually past winners of a similar show? Well, that's the way it works with us too. Our interviewer is usually a more experienced entity of the organization who at one point of time in his or her life was a mere struggler too and was auditioned (or interviewed) by someone senior to him/her. In all probability, he/she has lost sight of how tough it is to get your foot inside the door. And (s)he makes the audition uncomfortable, sneers at your experience/portfolio and yet, makes you an offer (which is probably a fraction of your worth) because (s)he knows just how important it is to the incumbent to get into the Industry. At any level. At any salary. Exactly the same way you see contestants in reality shows who really aspire to be actors/actresses/models and have taken up a B-grade show just to show the producers that they are capable of much more. You'd be surprised at how similar the practise of hiring is. You'd be shocked at how shallow both the Media and Advertising industries are. You'd be disgusted at how couch casting is moulded to fit into a pattern that suits both the industries. You'd be amazed at how joyous an occasion it is when a talented candidate meets an interviewer with a credible reputation and the result is fruitful for both.

Next, comes the moment of truth. The performance pressures are high with people trying to outshine each other and whether you are working in servicing, creative, planning or studio, you feel the ardor, the frustration, the zeal and the frenzy in everyone's disposition.
There is an overpowering urge to rid the system of mediocrity and protocol. And again, that is similar to the shows in which the not-so-competitive candidates, who rely on their contestants' poor performance to sustain themselves, are shunted out first.
Winning a pitch is not very dissimilar to climbing a mountain in record time. While the latter has deadlines of a few seconds in a reality show, the former requires similar team effort to make the correct strategy and creatives and has not very different time frames if you think about it.

We are all walking the tightrope here. And all of us fear the fall. While the channels air such reality shows for higher TRPs, the clients hire the advertsing agencies for better communication which leads to higher revenues.

So the next time you catch someone gushing about the daredevil stunts performed on these shows, tell them you know someone who does it for a living. And if their first guess is that I work in a circus, well, an ad agency is not very different from that either.
Where I belong, we are all going at a breakneck speed towards a bottleneck foyer.

Impulsively Devilish

Have you ever noticed how confusing people can get when they quote something that's been handed down from one generation to the next?
"Think before you speak." I doubt if its humanly possible to do otherwise. Even the most drunk, impetuous, insensitive and careless soul would have to unknowingly perform via the thinking function of the brain before blurting out random words.
Why the presence of a deliberate thought process is required before speaking remains a mystery for me.
In a world that has been poisoned by bitter lies and deceit, would it not make sense if everyone would speak on an impulse?
Sure, it may cause hearts to break and feuds to start much before their time, but wouldn't the realization of truth be a liberating experience?

The Mars-Venus equation would be much simpler to understand. Men keep complaining about how they don't understand women, every chance they get. No woman would ever tell a man every little thought that crosses her mind. I don't think she can and I don't think men would be able to seperate the chaff.
In the span of 2 minutes, women can think of 20 things, I kid you not. And they don't require any provocation to think. But they won't talk about it. If they did, the men would know exactly what not to say to a woman. A man who says just what we want to hear is not welcome either. Who would want to talk to a brain-dead I-live-to-please-you mass of pulchritude? The element of chase that makes an interaction exciting is lost on people like that.
Now, I'm not advocating baring all your cards for everyone to see.
But I am talking about afflicting every passerby with the good old chronic Foot-in-the-Mouth syndrome I've never been able to shake off.
Let's start an epidemic!
Live one day of your life when all that you say is impetuous without caring for the consequences.
The devil must be an impulsive man. And that is probably why he is so misunderstood.
It's the most innocent feeling ever.

Mend the Way?

I travel from point A to point B everyday taking the same route. The road never changes. It never complains. Sometimes, the number of people taking the bottleneck left turn are too many, causing a traffic nightmare. At other times, the turn is sprinkled with speed-o-monsters who make you want to mutter a silent prayer for their safety or a slew of abuses (depending on your mood and the time).
The road bends, breaks, gets flooded, gets dirty, trampled on and spat on. Yet, it never complains. But you and I do. We complain about everything from the potholes to the trash accumulating at the corners. We blame everyone from the government to the illiterate man we see clearing his nose on the road.
Just as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, the road will be there to take us back home. And that's when we begin taking it for granted.
I haven't lived enough to philosophize yet. But I can't help thinking how similar the road is to our journey of life.
I have had to come home due to ill health. And all I've been doing since then is complain about how the town I work in is responsible for my sickness. The truth is, anyone who tries to survive on toast for 2 straight weeks is bound to get ill.
I complain about how abusive people are at work. The truth is, someone must have done something to provoke the abuse. And even if the provocation was not there, maybe thats how people are. And I cannot be judgemental about them.

There is a possibility that I may not go back to work if I don't get physically fit soon enough.
But I cannot imagine myself working in any other industry. And my town has no scope for advertising.
It may not pay my bills. But it is a lot like a cup of hot coffee on a cold December morning. Because it makes me happy.

So you see, I complain about things that are trivial and those that are not.
But what I forget is that I am responsible for everything that goes wrong or right in my life.
I can eat a proper diet and get stronger. No-one would stop me.
I can go back to work, grow a thicker skin, hurl a few abusive words and get going. No-one would object.
I can take the same road as always from point A to point B, help reduce the debris from the roadside, honk the car horn a little less, stop scowling at the people over-taking me from the wrong direction and reach work in a good mood and on time.
But I will not do any of the above. Just like you won't.

I'll give myself excuses such as "I can't change my life. Or the way people drive."
Or maybe, " Life is unfair. Why does everything happen to me?" (which by the way, is the most common complaint which leads you to conclude that everything happens to everybody).
It's easier being a slob. Isn't it?

Advertising My Mind

I'm definitely way too young to consider mid-life crisis as an option to help untangle the muddled labyrinth of my mind.
But I have to admit that it's got me feeling sad. Sad because I feel lost. I'm trying my best to understand people around me but I've never ever given myself a good reason to trust my instincts.
I like people and I trust them. And that is indubitably my curse.

The world of advertising is full of people who are exciting, new, passionate, intelligent, creative, abusive, predatory, misleading, critical, helpful, admirable and calculative. It's hard to balance the beam and they are suddenly vicious and instantly affectionate within the same conversation. But they are easy to relate to because they are so close to reality that at the end of the day, I end up giving excuses for the nasty man who was rude to me at work while rationalizing the help from a complete stranger.

It has people who feed on humiliating me to get back at me for making a comment that established them as brainless and gutless pieces of office furniture.
It also has people who are celebrities and are yet humble enough to grant me 2 hour long meetings just to get to know what a newcomer in the industry goes through.

I like this world. There are no "Sir"s and "Ma'am"s, save a few who still require their egos to be stoked every now and then. The client servicing people abuse each other and a few minutes later share a plate of Maggi noodles. The planners argue over the best strategy over endless cups of coffee and then trash it after a meeting with the client. The copywriters and art directors fight over layouts and then play chess and step out for a smoke only to come back and resume the fight from scratch again. The studio professionals make faces and roll their eyes when they see the client servicing guys approaching but then sit with them through the night to get artworks released on time.
Like I said, I like this world.
And I know I belong here. I just don't know where I fit in.
My interviewers said they saw great "potential" in me and a spark that was burning bright and they took me on the Client Servicing team.
A gentleman of great repute on the Creative side saw through me and said I'm not cut out for servicing and should consider copywriting instead.
Planners with years of experience to their name said I have a keen analytical mind and should shape my career in a way that would land me in the Planning division.

What I WANT to do is write. But I don't believe I'm good enough. There are a lot more talented people out there.
What I DON'T want to do is stay stuck doing meaningless errands like fetching printouts and scans and making a repository of historical advertisements and stand over people's shoulders chasing deadlines. That's not who I am.
I can sense my brain rotting away. I can feel that "spark" in me fizzling out. I'm fighting to keep it burning. But I'm burning my hands in the process.

Dreaming with Rationale

I’d be lying if I said I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. Things I have been trying to work my way around.


I am no more in that phase of life when incidents, thoughts, people or songs confuse me. I am strangely sorted. I know exactly what I want and I am comfortably numb with the alternative.

Just because I have allowed the co-existence of possibilities, I am willing to succumb to the consequences of each. Probably because there is no possibility I have consciously not thought my way through.

But it makes me wonder. At what point did I switch from being the Delirious Dreamer to the Rational Rebel?

Being the Dreamer was fun, adventurous, irresponsible and it broke my heart and my hopes more times than I could count. But it made me foolishly valiant and strong. I felt unspoilt like the wilderness after a monsoon shower and willed myself to drench my dreams in turbulent waters.

Being the Dreamer, I could do whatever I wanted to and attribute my actions to my eccentricities. Believe you me, the world is more willing to accept a self professed loony than a highly recommended genius.

Now don’t get me wrong. Being Rational has its ups too. So there’s still hope for you logical thinkers.

Logic comes with a safety brace of twisted analysis. You can take a perfectly simple situation and bifurcate it endlessly to arrive at conclusions that best suit your demeanor.

Some would say my sudden change of teams from the Dreamers to the Rationals could be very well explained by my finally acknowledging that I’ve grown up.

I would strongly disagree. With the reason, not with my growing up 

I’d say the move has been selfish. Born out of need and not want. The lovechild of compromise and comfort is bloody well whatever you want to call it, as long as it promises you peace of mind.

I haven’t forgotten my dreams. But I have put new dreams on the hold for now.

I know where I want to be. It’s in two places at the same time.

Crossroads

At the crossroads between new beginnings and farewells, it may be wise to take a step back from reality and consider what you need and not what you want.
The mirror that's been your worst nemesis and best friend at all times needs to be sent on vacation.
Maybe there are things that are better ignored. Like your own opinion of yourself.

I've never let myself be bothered for too long about the warped opinions of others. And I'm willing to admit that my own opinion can be completely twisted, prejudiced and influenced on occasion.

Sure, there will be times when screaming out loud may seem like a vent, but the chains of protocol and decorum may deny you that temporary relief.
I have never felt comfortable sharing my problems with anybody. Ever.
And the times when I might have gone that route, I have regretted it from the bottom of my heart each time.

Finding yourself at crossroads in life is never easy.
But having no direction is much better than having no path.

A Modest Start

Life did a complete somersault .
It decided to don a deep sea diver's costume and delve into an ocean full of new and old faces, opportunities and risks to search for the possibility of buried treasure and joy.
In a month's time, the lethargic piece of inactivity my life was thriving on metamorphosed into one where work hours extended till sometimes 16 hours out of 24 and weekends were just another working day of the week.
I am now a part of a bustling beehive where the Queen Bee is inaccessible and I am just a lowly Management Trainee in her reign.

The next phase of my life has officially commenced with my being included in the working class.
A career start at the age of 28 is definitely not what I had thought would happen to me. I had somehow convinced myself that by this age, I'd be well above the professional upheaval everyone faces.

I'm one month old in the Advertising Industry. Each day of the past month, somebody or the other from office has asked me one of the two questions:

1. Why "advertising?"
2. This is a thankless job that pays less than peanuts. Why are you here?

I don't have an answer. I don't know why I chose to be in Advertising. I just knew that my engineering degree meant nothing more than a proof of graduation for me.
I was placed with Deutsche AMC after I finished with MBA, but working in a financial institution selling products(read Mutual Funds) I know zilch about is not my cup of tea.

The state of confusion has never left me long enough to enjoy the feeling of stability and maybe there is a reason for that.
I have serious doubts in my ability to enjoy a life which is not riding on a turbulent wave spanning many crests and troughs.
One thing I'm not confused about though- I made the right choice!
It may be too early to say if I "belong" in this industry or not, but yes, so far, I have enjoyed each day of my working life.
I love the work environment, the deadlines looming large, the frequent exasperated conversations with the Studio people, the itching urge to tell the Creative people to speed up their intelectual stimulation process, and the near impossibility of getting free from office by 6 p.m.

One thing I can say I have become adept at in this time is washing utensils. No, that's not what I do in office. That's what I do when I get back home.
I stay with two flatmates and we cook our own food, wash utensils, clean the house, go grocery shopping...Yes, we do it all.
It feels great to know that I am capable of working hard.
That surge of satisfaction when you hit the sack after a hard day's work is not something I'd easily barter.

Happiness may very well be found in your own backyard. But there is greater joy in working for a backyard you can actually call your own.
Score one for good old fashioned hard work!!

It's MY book!!

I'm not inherently rude. But when people who were meant to be footnotes in my book of life begin behaving like chapters, I have to tear them right off!

Familiar Strangers

stran·ger   /ˈstreɪndʒər/

–noun
.a person with whom one has had no personal acquaintance: He is a perfect stranger to me.

I am a fairly amiable and pleasant person to hang around. I think.
I don't stink, burp aloud, fart, belch or curse randomly in public. What I do in the privacy of my room should be of no concern to anybody.
I dress neatly and do not attract unwarranted attention.
When I walk down a busy market place, men and women do not give me more than the cursory glance. Well, sometimes they do (and I'd attribute that to their having nothing better to do with their time).

I am the stranger you wouldn't miss seeing on the road.
Does that sound weird? You wouldn't miss seeing any stranger, would you now? Unless, of course it is a stranger of the opposite sex who's been making you push your daily schedule so you could catch a glimpse of them.
My relationship with strangers has been kind of confusing from the start.
I have come to acknowledge the fact that all my best friends, infatuations and more have been strangers who I once noticed in the crowd for some reason or the other.
It could be for their voice, their looks, their charm, their being unusually quiet, unusually loud or just plain unusual.
I realize that makes me sound extremely shallow, but I've never been in denial of that.
I have been able to cultivate long-lasting relationships with perfect strangers.
Let me elaborate.
When I was in school, we had a new admission in the 9th standard in almost the middle of the session. She was the spoilt child of an important man in the Punjab Police, who was used to the importance people showered her with. We were in an all-girls convent school so there were no young boys around to complicate matters. I hated her guts but some time later, I realized it was all a cover for her insecurities. She became a close friend and after years of staying perfectly out of touch, I am still the only old classmate she is in touch with. And she'll always have a very special place in my heart and my life, despite all our differences.

When I was in grad college, a perfect stranger had my heart go bumpity-bump every time I'd see him cross the hallway. And I certainly wasn't the only girl who felt that way. After all, college is a time when you discover your hormones are actively engaged in making you say all the wrong things at the wrong time to the right people. But a year later, that good-looking stranger was telling me of secrets he'd never shared with anyone else, only to become my special secret for the next 3 years and my best friend for life!

When I joined the business school that was brave enough to give me admission, for one whole semester I was surrounded by young eager-to-please students who just couldn't manage to involve me in a conversation for more than 5 minutes. In the second sem, when the sections got shuffled, I was placed in one with a guy I had noticed in the first sem only because he'd never look at me. Then, I heard his voice. And it made my spine tingle and my legs melt. Now, he is the one friend I'd trust with my life and who could convince me into commiting the seven sins if he wanted to!

I know that we all start of as strangers. I know some people attract their way into our lives and we choose who we let into our lives.
But it isn't always that easy. Some strangers are a tad more difficult than others.
For me, the difficult strangers are the ones who think like me, talk like me and are just a reflection of an alternate me.
These strangers infuriate me. Because rightfully, they should be predictable and easy to read. But they are not.
I can understand the whole world. Or pretend that I do. I can pass judgements or give up on the ones that I feel are not worth the time and effort.
But every once in a while, a stranger I know nothing about but who is just so much like me comes along and I don't know how to react.
And then I thank all the beautiful strangers who came and knew how to deal with me.
They deserve all the credit for being who they are in my life.
Because I would've been clueless all along.

Matter of Numbers

I turned 28 earlier this year in the month of January.
Being 16 was easier, being 10 even more so.
But 28? That's one hell of a bad number for someone who is unattached by choice and unemployed by chance.
Sure, it might seem like a cakewalk and just another milestone 5 years down the line but that's a horrible way of undermining the current series of upheavals (and thus excitement) in life at this time.
Now that my academic education is (finally) over, the next step naturally is to actively search for suitable employment opportunities. The keyword here is "suitable", please.
Two professional degrees (B.Tech and MBA) later, you tend to be unreasonably confident of your capabilities. Which is perhaps my biggest fault (ok not biggest, but big enough)!
Been travelling to Delhi/NCR back and forth looking for a  job that would appeal to both my wallet and my knowledge. Met some nice people and some oversmart ones in the process.
I remember writing in my previous post that I don't believe the world is either "big" or "bad". Well. life decided to give me a reality check.
And guess what? I stand by what I said earlier.
It's a beautiful, welcoming world out there....you just need to open your eyes and not tread on forbidden land. Hey, that's only fair now, right?
Sure, the job that you want may not fall into your lap right away, but would you appreciate something you didn't work hard for?
I know it sounds like bullshit, but it really isn't. I don't have a job to speak of, so I don't exactly fall into the category of  its-easy-for-them-to-say people.
All I'm saying is you gotta keep the faith. Things will fall into place soon enough, sooner if not later.
I remember my sister once told me that in India, two things that will happen to you regardless of what you are like are 1) a job and 2) a wedding.
May be a bit of an exaggeration but not entirely untrue.
Now the first part made me feel happy. The second part only reminded me that my family expects me to settle down soon enough.
I'm the worst victim of commitment phobia you'll see around.
See, life's great. I wouldn't want to change something I feel I wouldn't be comfortable with.
Sure, love has happened to me. And I have considered possibilities. In all seriousness.
But getting married is not something I can imagine myself doing in the near future.
And that is not entirely a selfish decision you know. My getting married would be almost blasphemous for my would-be-husband (whoever that dear darling man is)!
Maybe that is an excuse I give myself, but my argument remains the same- why must I try and convince myself that I consciously WANT to settle down, when I know that I really don't?
Ah...28! You're a tough one...but I'd hate to see you end. 29 just sounds so much older and closer to (shudder) 30!!

Saunter Along

I don't know where I want to go. I don't know how to get there.
All I know is that I get lost when people start giving me directions.
I've been alone. Been loved. Been ignored. Been pampered.
And I am ready now to go face the "big bad world". Because I don't believe it's either big or bad.
At any point of time in life, there will always be a handful of people who will care.
There will always be only a few I'll be in touch with.
I've often been called anti-social, aloof, insensitive and detached.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
If I appear anti-social, it's because I can think of no place worth going to. Crowded places make me feel uncomfortable. Loud music doesn't allow me to hear myself think.
If I seem aloof, it's because you haven't made the effort to come closer.
My insensitivity is only towards the pretense I cannot fathom. I am the irritating girl who's eyes well up whenever the dog in the movie dies.
My detachment is a cover-up for what I consciously will never reveal.

I don't know what I want and where to get it from.
I only know I have to keep trying to find out.

Unauthorized Chaos in Progress

If you must know....
I was a fat child with pigtails and braces on my teeth.
The mirror was never one of my best friends.
I shied away from having my photographs taken.
I was one of the tallest girls in class. When you're in an all-girls school and want to blend in the crowd, that really does not go to your advantage.
I was always made to stand at the end of the line during assembly time in school. The teachers and nuns had some crazy hang-up about making the entire class stand according to their heights, with the shortest ones standing way out in the front.
I was always at the far end. And the girl standing right in front of me would always had this consistent cold or stomach ache. Yes, these are my earliest memories of the school I came to love.
I was too quiet to be popular by a long shot. And I longed for classes to begin so that I would not have to wait for someone to come and talk to me. I found solace in my school books.
You guessed it. I was boring with a capital B.
I don't really have any recollection of naughty pranks I played on classmates or teachers. Because I was not included in any of them.

Things were a little different at home though. But not much.
Being blessed with a quick-witted older sibling who could talk incessantly didn't help matters much.
My parents doted on me, like they still do. I was the little innocent lamb anyone could take for a ride.
Trusting strangers came easily to me. I had a ready smile for anyone on the street who'd care to smile back, the kids and the old alike. Though I have a hunch my metal-enhanced smile really didn't melt hearts.

I was a happy child. Nothing bothered me except the occasional arguements with my sister I now so fondly recollect.
Making friends was never really my forte. Still isn't.

The child I was grew up to be a confident young lady. I think the first lasting friend I really made was after I turned 16.
I grew up to be a careful rebel. I learned how to work my way around things I didn't find favour with.
The first time I openly disagreed with people I always looked up yo is probably the first time I decided to come out of my self-woven shell.

By the time I was 20, I learned to be confident about my looks, my opinions and my idiosyncracies.
And that is when people started to pay attention to me.
Young love greeted me and I welcomed it in.
I never could be in agreement with the idea of "forever".
I realized there was more to the world than what I understood of it.
I started to read more, my hunger to know more led me to music.
There came a time when I wanted to scream out to the world what I thought of it. And so began my tryst with writing.

Of late, I have felt the childhood insecurities come crawling back.
And I don't want to let them in.
I remember how it felt to be inside that shell. It's not a sanctuary, it's a cage you build for yourself.
It's easy to find open windows when someone closes the door.
There are no windows in my shell. Just walls I can't make myself see through and go beyond.

I want to be the happy child again.
I need to go further on the journey of life. With no baggage.

Sense the senses

Here I lie, waiting for the accusations to begin.

I don't really know myself. That's weird, right?
I have a hard time convincing people that they don't understand me. Especially the kind who think they can size you up and pass a judgment on the kind of person you are in a day's time.
How can they know me if I don't even know myself?
Some people say I'm too talkative and are then amazed when suddenly in the middle of a conversation I decide to shut up and answer them in mono-syllables.
Others think I'm too quiet and are confused when they happen to meet me in one of those moods when I can carry on an hour long conversation with the neighbourhood stray cat.
Oh and then there are the oh-so-wise ones who'll say matter-of-factly, "You're an ambivert" which sounds more like a word for species that can stay in water or on the land.

Here I lie, waiting for the blame game to start.

It'll kick off soon enough. How I never share what I feel and how they never express what they should. How I should be more tolerant to how they should be more understanding. The list goes on..
It's the same each time.

I'm tired. There's so much more that needs to be resolved. Petty issues are more burdensome than the ones that matter.
I sense the rift I'm creating in my mind.
It feels right.

Illogically Yours

As the battles resume inside my head, I wonder if the fight is worth the reward.
Torn between right and wrong, once again.
But who decides what is right and what is wrong?
If something brings me happiness, is that not right? But if it hurts someone else in the process, isn't that what you'd call wrong?
How do I make that choice? And why must I?
They say, "You can never have all that you want."
But why must that implicate that I stop trying??
Satisfaction, they say, comes at a price.
The catch here is that the price is my peace of mind. But wait...how can I be satisfied if I don't have any peace of mind?

Love, they say, conquers all.
But what if that love is elusive, incomprehensible and transient?
Would you still call it Love?
I would. For whatever little time it came into my life, it was well worth it.
But it's time now to move on.
It's time to seperate the illusions from the hopes.

They say I cannot decide alone when it is time to move from one saviour angel to the next. I need to find the one that'll stay be me, they say.
But I decide what I want, when I want.
Selfish, yes.

I have always been logically challenged.
You won't see me winning too many arguements. But I still manage to get my way.
It's time for unwarranted decisions again.
It's time to face the music!

Splendour Denied

the Plundering Pirate

He came, descending on her love for life like a swarm of bloodsucking locusts, looting her of her innocence and her belief in the triumph of justice.

the Dreadlock Rasta

He came singing a happy tune, his free spirit elevating her soul; his words poison to her dreams.

the Man of the Cloth

He came and went as he pleased, leaving her with questions she'd never know the answers to; his faith her undoing.

the Marauding Savage

He slaughtered her desire to be one with herself; his contempt for life leaving her with scars that would ever heal.

the Ironical Clown

He bounced into her life with laughter and smiles; his own smile a farce; his love mocking her every step of the way.

the Boy-Next-Door

He uderstood less than he thought he did; his desire to be the one making him a face in the crowd.

the Wise Wizard

He listened and he counseled his way out of her life; leaving her with answers she never wanted to know.


They had no stories to tell
No adventures to speak of
How could they be characters in her masterpiece
How could they be unique....
When they all met the same woman
And none could earn her respect?

Unfinished Business

It's 4:38 a.m. and contrary to what you might think, I didn't wake up early. I just haven't slept yet.

You know that uncomfortable feeling you get when you know that there is something you had to do, but can't quite remember what it was??
Yes, that's been keeping me up nights.
And I'm not just talking about tonight or the night before. It's been this way for quite some time now.

I was thinking (again!) and I realized something. Most of what I begin to do, doesn't quite meet its end.

INCOMPLETE

That's the word that describes the past decade's activities in a nutshell.

I am a victim of procrastination. And that is probably one of my biggest weaknesses.
I can attribute most of what I am today to my unfinished agenda for life.
And it hasn't always been my fault. There have been times when circumstances pushed and pulled me away from the final act.

I think it started when I joined enginnering college.
Two years after trying my luck at Electrical Engineering, I started all over again with Computer Science Engineering.
Took me longer than it takes your average joe to get a Grad degree.
MBA was an even worse experience.
First semester in Kolkata, 2nd Semester in Gurgaon...and then to Chandigarh to start from 1st semester all over again.
I began writing a children's book 2 years ago. The plot was laid out. The characters left me midway.
I fell in love with a dream about tomorrow. I didn't stay in love long enough to see the tomorrow.
It's unfair on people around me.
There are two kinds of people I know of- the mountains and the streams.
The mountains refused to let me reach the top and the streams weren't deep enough for me to make the effort. And all my endeavours to be with either were once agan - incomplete.

I've been telling myself there is a reason why all this happened.
I just don't see what the reason could be.

It has affected me on the personal front too.
I never finish what I start.
Infatuations are nulled before they can even blossom and commitments are shunned before they can even be considered.
My jigsaw puzzle is missing pieces.
My mind is occupied with incomplete thoughts.
There is something worse than the knowledge that you did something wrong - and that is the knowledge that you didn't do it all the way to find out whether it was right.
I have unfinished business. Only, it's with myself.

Sound Effects

A silken voice calls my name
Beckons me to come in again
Showers my soul with with words so true
Every breath is one too few
Talks of life like no-one before
Comprehends me like no-one I know
I suspect foul play and stay away
Memories of faith left for another day
Silently turning to my written word
Blocking the voice so it'll be no longer heard
It persists with conviction and I take the bait
Visions of affection overpowering of late
I trust, I give, I listen some more
It speaks, It loves, It nurses my spirit sore
Time changes and with it the voice
The silken tone forgets the joys
It yells, It screams, It tears me apart
Who do I blame, but my silly heart?

B-School Blahs!!

And so it begins.....
Everyone around me is on pins and needles...only they aren't showing it!
The quest for the "perfect job" begins soon as you realize the importance, pressures and freedom financial independence brings with it.
Or rather, it starts soon as you gain admission to a Business School, where you try to analyze your classmates and within a span of 6 months, silently categorize the competitive candidates and the not-so-competitive ones in your mind.
Some of us sit confident in the knowledge of posessing good marketing sklls, financial expertise, operational fluency, human resource understanding or I.T. scenarios.
Some of us bask in the glory of posessing sound communication skills, while others silently try to emulate what the soft skills teachers try to teach us.
Sit up straight. Don't cross your legs. Don't debate with the interviewers unnecessarily. Increase your domain knowledge. Keep yourself updated with the current business scenario. You must be aware of the political who's who of India. Go through commonly asked questions in interviews. Prepare the obvious questions. Be spontaneous (??!!??). .....and so it goes on.


They say it's a dog-eat-dog world.
Strange. It doesn't look that way to me. Not yet.
We're all so busy trying to outshine each other, that we forget that sometimes humility might help a bit in the interview process.
But in those 5 minutes in which each one of desires to grab the coveted job in question, we sometimes lose touch with what we REALLY want.


I never wanted a job. I wanted to start with my owm entreprenurial venture.
But there are some things that even the best business schools can not teach you.
Things like recognising the right questions.
Things like finding or recognising opportunities.
Things like bridging the disparities between you and your competing classmate, so that we may learn to respect the fact that we are all in it together!!


I'm all for competition. I'm not wound up in ethical issues to the extent of handing what I rightly deserve to somebody else, and I really don't have a choice in the matter.


But I am sure of one thing.
And that is that by the time the placement season ends, a lot of us will be still without jobs. Some of us will be without direction. While some others will be without conviction.
Whether or not the Institute is to be blamed for this is a debate that can turn ugly and I would rather not get into.
While I don't agree with a lot of things I have heard in the last year and a half, the one thing I do believe is that all of us were given equal opportunity to learn.
There were times I debated with the revered faculty members, times when I kept quiet for fear of being ridiculed for asking a silly question, times when I found it hard to believe the myopic viewpoints of some of my colleagues and times when I was apalled by the frivolous conduct of some others.
But they were all good times.
Because there were also times when I found solace in the friends I made here, times when we laughed for no apparent reason, times when we bunked classes for a cup of coffee at CCD, times when we scraped our financial resources together to share one omelette between 5 friends, times when we slipped late into class with an apologetic look on our faces and requests for attendence, times when we feared being detained for short attendance, times when we bet on the cricket matches to win or lose 50 Rs. , times when we all cursed the system together....this list goes on and on.


And so, I thank each one of you, my respected faculty and my dear colleagues, for the wonderful times we've shared here.
I may not have interacted with half of of you as much as I would have liked to.
And with some I interacted more than I wished to.


But before we get too wound up in the placement process to appreciate a part of what really matters, I felt my blog must have an entry that described my term here.
For who knows, what tomorrow might bring.
Good Luck- to us!!

Change!!

" I am a changed person. You would hardly recognize me now. And you are the reason the change has come about."


What would you do if someone said that to you??
Would you ask if the change has been good or bad??
Would you say "OK" trying to appear non-chalant while you are swept by a wave of emotions that amaze and scare you at the same time??
Is it right to be held responsible for changing someone, for the good or otherwise??
Is it even possible??
Would you feel touched, obliged, accountable, intrigued, angered, scared, or a bit of everything??
Why do people change, even if it is for the better??
Is there not a distinguishable security you feel when people stay the same...even if the way they are infuriates you or draws you away from them??
Is not change the answer you were once looking for??
Why then is it so hard to let the change change you??
Is that not what Change does best...change the way things are??
Why, then, does change not change itself??

Topsy Turvy Tales

Loud and Insensitive

Sober and Nurturing

Fearing the Dares

Daring the Fears

Free from Pretense

Bound in Care

Denials for Truth

Acceptance for Delusions

Receptive through Smiles

Obstinate through Tears

Silence in Words

Expressions in Touch

A roller coaster ride of Emotions
We choose to call Affection

A roller coaster ride of Emotions...we choose to call Affection!!

I Forgive Myself

I've had a bad week. Actually, I've had a bad decade. I've been blaming myself for every little thing that goes wrong with me or with people I'm with.
Yes, I've been terribly unfair to myself.
And I do believe it is now time to forgive myself.
It is time I stopped being so harsh with myself.
No-one is going to punish me for having a little fun.
I sometimes confuse myself with sudden bursts of both pessimism and optimism. I don't really know which side I lean on. And I'm remindig myself that it is NOT wrong to be unsure .. to be both positive as well as negative.
Hell, it could mean I'm really, really balanced, right?
It's just how you perceive things.

I forgive my sins tonight.

I really am not sure if you can call them sins or not.
Sometime last year I came across a group on facebook named "...So Apparently I'm Going to Hell". Tonight, out of curiosity and lack of something better to do, I went to that same page again.
I'd like to share its description here:

"

If anyone's had the chance to catch a Mr. Micah Armstrong (originally of the Assembly of God Church in Miami but left because they were hypocrites) on their campus, then I'm sure you've come to one conclusion.......apparently you're going to hell. Reasons include: Pot Smoking Cigarette Smoking Alcohol Drinking Guitar Playing Having a Tattoo Showing Cleavage Showing Bellybuttons Girls Showing Their Knees Girls Showing Their Elbows Girls Wearing Tight Pants Girls Wearing Miniskirts Being Blonde Being Fat Cursing Kissing on the Mouth before Marriage Holding Hands before Marriage Groping Breast before Marriage Having Premarital Sex Masturbation Having Anal Sex Having Oral Sex Being Homosexual Judging People (He wasn't though, he was being honest) Being Selfish Playing Sports Women Working Watching BET Watching MTV Watching VH1 Watching TNT Associating With Hollywood Listening to “Gangsta Rap”, Techno, Christian Bands, and Rock and Roll Believing in Evolution Being Catholic Being Jewish Being Buddhist Being Methodist Being Protestant Being Mormon Being Muslim Being Hindu Being Agnostic Being Atheist Being a Woman (they're still paying for Eve's sin) Being In a Sorority or Fraternity Owning a Pet Sin, Have Sinned, or Plan on Sinning in the Future Don't Worry. Hell is Going to be a Party. Based on Micah’s prediction Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, Tupac, Biggie Smalls, and Martin Luther King are already there. The only one not there will be Micah."

Damn right...I'm going to hell. And I forgive myself for it.
Join me?

Life & Luck

The Law of Averages said I'd been too comfortable too long. Something had to go wrong. It was inevitable. And that's not pessimism..It's just a fact.
The last time I felt so dimunitive was probably two years ago. I remember writing about it in the blog-that-was.
I love life, really. It's been trying since the year 2000 to make me hate it. I don't even wish to recall the number of times I've felt like giving it up to a slash of the blade or a gulp of rat-poison. I never gave n to my suicidal tendencies, of course. Attribute it to my disdain of the foul smell the rat -poison gave off, to my averseness to all forms of physical pain, to my love for those who'd cry for me or my cowardice.
I still love life.
And life really ought to get a life (wait that doesn't sound right...oh whatever) and stop picking on me now.
They say everything happens for a reason. I've always been a firm believer in that.
But after 9 long years, I'm sort of running out of patience.
After almost a decade of having my mind, body and soul battered, smashed and soiled, my spirit is demanding answers. I need to SEE the reason.
I'm probably one of the toughest nuts I know of and it takes an awful lot to ruffle my feathers. But tough nuts make mistakes too. Like allowing themselves the luxury of feeling what others feel. And of allowing others to believe in us.
Now THAT is a big blunder. I should have known better. I should have warned people around me that my optimism is a farce. That bad luck sticks to me like flies to honey. That to be happy around me is easy. But to be happy with me is a tad tough.
Oh well, now that people around me have realized that I wasn't kidding when I told them about my compulsive shortcomings, they hopefully will move on to a brighter tomorrow.
Good luck!

"Maybe Tomorrow is a Better Day"

I'd stay the hand of god, but the war is on your lips
How can I brace myself for razor blades on whips
When everything with meaning is shattered, broken, screaming
And I'm lost inside this darkness and I fear I won't survive

I could pray and trick with a double tongue, but the only fool here's me
I choose the way to go, but the road won't set me free
Cos I wish you'd see me, baby, save me, I'm going crazy
Tryin' to keep us real, keep us alive

This day will die tonight and there ain't no exception
We shouldn't wait for nothing to wait for
Love me in this fable, babe, my heart is in your hand
Our time is waiting right outside your door
And maybe tomorrow is a better day

I do not deal the cards and I play a lousy hand
I celebrate no victories and my promises are sand
Against all this I contrast you, when all is lost the war is through
Hey angel, dare the winds now we can fly

This day will die tonight and there ain't no exception
Why should I wait for nothing to wait for
Let me love you in this fable, hold your heart in my hand
Our time is waiting right outside your door
And maybe tomorrow is a better day

This day will die tonight and there ain't no exception
Why should I wait for nothing to wait for
I won't cry for my solitude, lay my head and dream of you
And hope that you'll come knocking on my door
And maybe tomorrow is a better day
I know tomorrow is a better day

-POETS OF THE FALL

Numbness Envelops Me

This week has been shockingly disturbing. And I will not hesitate to say that it coule be very pivotal in changing me.
Murphy's Law has been proved 4 times over in a single week. I shudder to think of the couple of days still left. It seems every day is bringing with it something new to get depressed about.
Optimism? That's kind of hard to search for in the present state of affairs.
Your lies and deciet have a way of catching up with you when you least expect it. Of course, the reason WHY you lie is not what anybody cares to know.
I'd heard that it take 20 years to build a reputation and just 2 minutes to destroy it. The same holds true for Trust.
I trusted her. Blindly. She let me down. And I'll never forgive her for it. Because in that one instant all that was good just vanished and all that was left were her lame excuses and explanations. I have ceased to care.
He trusted me. Blindly. I let him down. He will never forgive me for what I've done. Because in that one instant, all the times I've cared vanished and all that was left were my hollow lies and shame. He has ceased to care.
I will give no excuses. Because there are none. I am at fault and there are no explanations to justify what I've done.
Strange how within 48 hours I've been on both sides of the situation. My smile's ironic now.
And I feel numb.

Acceptance Precedes Closure

For a very long time, I kept blaming situations and people for my not being able to write the way I once did. For a very long time, my accusations were not without conviction.
It's time now to stop playing the blame game. It is time for acceptance.
A few days ago, I posted an entry on "what I want". When I read it later, I felt like quite the brat I am not. I have always given more than I have recieved, and that is something I really shouldn't have written because it makes it sound like a deal.
Anyway, tonight my post will not have me editing out the "should not".
Yesterday, I was in one of my lousiest moods of the month. So much so, that I did not even feel like stepping out though it was a Saturday night. But I did go out. Met an old friend and some acquaintances-old and new. And I laughed all through the evening for no apparent reason.
I was too intoxicated to ponder over the reason at that particular time, but after I got home I realized there was something that was missing from my days which was making me sad.
By the way, I just wrote part of the previous line in italics to keep reminding me of the subject of this post.
SO, the point here is that since I wrote about what I wanted the time before last, it would be only fair if I let this post be about what I've accepted. No, I'm not talking about closure. I'm only referring to the things I have long avoided admitting to myself. Here they are:-

1. I am the most irritating person I've ever come across. Also the most shallow.
2. I'm insensitive to the point of being nasty, especially with people I really should try and be nicer with.
3. I'm a compulsive liar (my blog being one of the extremely few places where I just CAN NOT lie).
4. I'm scared to death of growing old(er).
5. I do not want to be in a committed, lasting realationship. Atleast not till the time I 've settled according to the standards I've set for myself.
6. I want to write really really well, but I know I'm only an average writer. Maybe less.
7. I cannot stand criticism of any sort. I don't understand what "they" mean by constructive criticism.
8. I don't deserve all I have and all I get, yet I feel I don't appreciate it enough.
9. I'm scared that someday I'll kill myself.
10. I'm definitely the craziest, the most reckless and the most straightforward person I know. And that may sound "cool" but it really isn't. It's insane.

There. I said it all.

And yes, I did italicize "something that was missing from my days" so I suppose I must write a line or two about that.

What was missing was the realization that I have to take a stand and not expect direction for decisions that should be taken by me. And if I take a stand, I have to stick to it. And face whatever be the consequences.

"It's not denial. I'm just selective about the reality I accept."

-Bill Waterson

Embarrassed??

A weird thing happened today. Okay, not weird. Embarrassing.
I yelled out a "hi" to someone I didn't know, mistaking him for somebody I do know. But it's not what I would call futile. I recieved a dazzling smile in return. Yeah, it would have helped if the stranger in question was butt-ugly. The result- there I was grinning an "Oops!" to someone I really shouldn't have been bothered about being embarrassed in front of. On account of the fact that I'll probably never see him again. But to tell you the truth, it was quite embarrassing.
The dictionary very conveniently describes embarrassment as "to cause confusion and shame to; make uncomfortably self-conscious; disconcert; abash"
Embarrassment is nothing but being conscious of the fact that others are watching. Which happens to be a good thing, coz it means you are noticeable. Which might be nothing but just a figment of your imagination, as there’s always something better to watch.
The action you give priority to (enough to be embarrassed out of your wits) may mean less than nothing to others. So go ahead and look silly. It’s worth it.
You'll probably be less embarrassed doing the stuff you find disconcerting now than 20 years later!!

What a woman wants....

"The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is "What does a woman want?" Sigmund Freud

I sometimes wonder why it is so hard for men to understand what we want. And then there are times when I have no clue whatsoever what I want, and sympathize with them.
But if you really think about it, and think hard and long enough (without throwing your hands up in the air with a "I give up!" even before you start) , I'm certain the answer will come to you.
No, you don't have to google it (try entering the search words "what does a woman want" and you'll get 175,000,000 results....we don't want that much!!).
No, it does it not require exceptionally good analytical skills....nor does it require extreme sensitivity.
It does require patience, though.
What I've written till now does not make things clearer by an inch...I realize that.
So let's get down to enumerating some of the concrete things that this woman wants (who knows, it just might give you a clue to what your woman wants) :
1. I want respect. I don't want to be told respect has to be earned. I believe every one should be treated with at least the minimum standards of respect, and I want more respect than those minimum standards.
2. I want someone to listen without telling me what I should be doing, or what I should have done.
3. I want the right to change my mind, no matter how big the decision is.
4. I don't want to be told that I am confused. Ever. I might admit it, but this is one time I don't need you to agree with me. I want you to understand that my confusion stems from the fact that I have been weighing all possibilities, which happens to be a good thing.
5. I want flowers throughout the year. Without a reason. Without an ulterior motive.
6. I want you to understand that even though I am in favour of redefining gender roles, chivalry will always be appreciated.
7. I want surprises.
8. I want you to tell me when I'm looking good. And if I'm not looking good, I want you to keep quiet about it. Save your honesty for more important things.
9. I want to be pampered and spoilt rotten. But that does not mean that when I give my opinion you treat me like a child.
10. Do not EVER patronize me. It shows.
11. Do not judge my intellect by the way I talk to you. There is a side to me you will never know. It's deep and mysterious and I want to keep it that way.
12. I want someone who can make me laugh till my sides ache.
13. I want to laugh and talk as loud as I want. And I don't want you to feel embarrassed because of it.
14. I want coffee. As often as possible.
15. I want to be able to talk about my male friends without anyone feeling insecure because of them.
16. I want the world on a silver platter. And I don't want to be told I'm asking for too much.

I DESERVE IT.
And so does every other woman.......