A briefing at Sterling Cooper India
Drona Dhopeshwar(Creative Director): (banging the table) Our planners believe there is a paradigm shift in the market.
Pankti Oswal(Copywriter): (lighting a lights cigarette and then taking a deep drag)Isn't it what we were told last briefing. What's with the paradigm?? No permanent address, aa?? Te he!
Drona: (sipping on chai with a contemplative look)Po da!
Sarvanan Ramanuj(Art Director): (legs resting on the table) Chee! Thoo! You cant freelance as a bulk SMS forward sender with jokes like this!
Drona: Anyways, what I've done is asked Servicing to discuss it with Client and work on a new brief.
Sarvanan: Accha! Jaddi sileney gaye hai! Ha ha ha ha ha
Drona: Eh?
Pankti: What Sar meant was Chaddi! So how do you suggest we work on a new campaign? We know the brief is not going to change!
Drona: Good call, punk. The brief may not change, but circumstances have. We cant get away with having cricketers as brand ambassadors anymore. And yet we have the IPL, which our clients believe will help viewers forget the trauma of having to wake up every morning last winter, only to watch India lose every game in Australia.
Sarvanan: Maybe there is a moral here. Maybe we should go back to film stars as brand ambassadors. What about Rajni?
Drona: (banging the table) I think we've got something there. If we endorse Rajni, the results of the cricket match dont matter anyway.
Pankti: And what's more, we have enough of Rajni jokes to work with for a month long campaign.
Sarvanan: Eggsactly! Lets first publish a set of visiting cards, and mail it to people.
Pankti: Okay?
Sarvanan: Dont you get it? Rajni wont give you visiting cards. His cards will visit you. Ha ha ha ha!
Pank: Oh my gawd!! Ha ha ha ha!
Drona: ha ha ha! And then, his card should only say "I'll call you" and have his name on it. What say?
Sar: ha ha ha ha!
Pankti: Ha ha ha ha!
Drona: Ha ha ha ha!
(Three hours later)
Pankti: I think this calls for a party. What a day!
Sarvanan: Yes! It's time to visit some old monks. In the name of Rajni!
Pankti: Man, Rajni is the life of a party, even when he doesn't attend it? Ha ha ha
Drona & Sarvanan: ha ha ha ha
And the three creatives live happily ever after. At a local bar. Till the next briefing.
Disclaimer: The above actions should not be imitated at work.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Fast Forwards: These are a few of my favourite things
There's this urban myth about Julie Andrews having sung this rendition of "These are a few of my favourite things", when she turned 70 a few years back. Why I think it's an urban myth is because I haven't been able to trace it to a reliable news source. But then, whoever wrote this piece has done a fantastic job. I really wish I'd written this one.
Botox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favourite things.
Cadillac's and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favourite things.
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favourite things...
Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favourite things.
When the joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Botox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favourite things.
Cadillac's and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favourite things.
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favourite things...
Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favourite things.
When the joints ache, When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Resume Enclosed
I used to have a thriving business during the placement season at the Bokissam Ananthapadmanathan Institute of Technology and Science (B.A.I.T.S). And there were two reasons for that. I never considered myself eligible for placements, owing to my innate desire to devote myself to a detailed study of subjects from my earlier semesters (technically known as ordinances), like Electronic Power Instrumentation Circuits(E.P.I.C), Digital Electronic Signal Processing (D.E.S.P.O), Computer User Network Theory (C.U.N.T.) and some other crucial subjects on personality development like The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, and The Argumentative Indian by my debating pal from Cal.
The other reason was since I was far above the competition, my batchmates were more inclined to share some confidential information with me, like “Extra-curricular kya hota hai, be******d??” and “Career Objective kya likhoon, bo***i kay!”
So good was I at churning out resumes, that I’d earned the moniker ‘CV’ RAMAN. And the money was so good that I haven’t had to write a CV for myself till now, nearly seven years (okay five in my case) after college, when my old clients (a.k.a my batchmates) started sharing my trade secrets with their cousins, bhanjaas and their frnds from Gudgaon, yaar! So I’m now faced with the challenge of writing one for myself. But a bigger challenge loomed. How do I present my CV writing skills in my own CV? That’s a bit like asking a modest Hrishikesh Kanitkar to write about his skills of disappearing from the international scene after being the blue-eyed boy who hit a four in the third last over of the seventh final between India vs Pakistan at the third edition of the Coca Cola cup, celebrating Bangladesh’s second independence (first from India, and then from …wait for it….Pakistan). So before we digress and speak about the irony of the finalists of the Coca Cola Cup in Bangladesh, let’s resume (Nudge! Wink !) the discussion of my resume.
But before I begin, let me elucidate that this is my resume, so press Ctrl C + Ctrl V at your own peril, because it takes a lot of panache to carry off a resume like the one you’ll see below.
Name : C.V.S.R.N.D. RAMAN
About Me: I’m a Go-getter. And that does not limit to going and getting you your cup of filter coffee.
Academic Accomplishments: Engineering. With honour.
Institutes of learning:
BE from B.A.I.T.S, Dharmavaram
State Board from RK Public School, Dispur (not the one of MMS fame)
Objective: Yes, indeed. I’m mostly objective, unless of course Sachin is given out LBW despite an obvious inside edge.
Work Experience: 7 years of consulting bright engineers about their job prospects. It is said that their future was in my hands. In fact, I could give it to them in writing.
Extra-curricular Activities:
1. Represented School and College across several age categories at Kho-Kho with distinction.
2. Represented College across South India in Twenty Questions( also known as Tom, Dick and Harry at Bangalore and Engineering colleges at South Canara)
3. Roped in several Fortune 500 companies like McDonalds, Indian Oil, Tata Motors and Waag-Bakri Chai as sponsors for college events.
4. Won several Story Telling competitions since childhood.
Referrals
Enclosed in this mail is a document that collates all the Thank You mails for all successful conversions of Resumes into Jobs, and sometimes careers.
For interview calls, please write to CV_Raman@sachinroxmailbox.com
The other reason was since I was far above the competition, my batchmates were more inclined to share some confidential information with me, like “Extra-curricular kya hota hai, be******d??” and “Career Objective kya likhoon, bo***i kay!”
So good was I at churning out resumes, that I’d earned the moniker ‘CV’ RAMAN. And the money was so good that I haven’t had to write a CV for myself till now, nearly seven years (okay five in my case) after college, when my old clients (a.k.a my batchmates) started sharing my trade secrets with their cousins, bhanjaas and their frnds from Gudgaon, yaar! So I’m now faced with the challenge of writing one for myself. But a bigger challenge loomed. How do I present my CV writing skills in my own CV? That’s a bit like asking a modest Hrishikesh Kanitkar to write about his skills of disappearing from the international scene after being the blue-eyed boy who hit a four in the third last over of the seventh final between India vs Pakistan at the third edition of the Coca Cola cup, celebrating Bangladesh’s second independence (first from India, and then from …wait for it….Pakistan). So before we digress and speak about the irony of the finalists of the Coca Cola Cup in Bangladesh, let’s resume (Nudge! Wink !) the discussion of my resume.
But before I begin, let me elucidate that this is my resume, so press Ctrl C + Ctrl V at your own peril, because it takes a lot of panache to carry off a resume like the one you’ll see below.
Name : C.V.S.R.N.D. RAMAN
About Me: I’m a Go-getter. And that does not limit to going and getting you your cup of filter coffee.
Academic Accomplishments: Engineering. With honour.
Institutes of learning:
BE from B.A.I.T.S, Dharmavaram
State Board from RK Public School, Dispur (not the one of MMS fame)
Objective: Yes, indeed. I’m mostly objective, unless of course Sachin is given out LBW despite an obvious inside edge.
Work Experience: 7 years of consulting bright engineers about their job prospects. It is said that their future was in my hands. In fact, I could give it to them in writing.
Extra-curricular Activities:
1. Represented School and College across several age categories at Kho-Kho with distinction.
2. Represented College across South India in Twenty Questions( also known as Tom, Dick and Harry at Bangalore and Engineering colleges at South Canara)
3. Roped in several Fortune 500 companies like McDonalds, Indian Oil, Tata Motors and Waag-Bakri Chai as sponsors for college events.
4. Won several Story Telling competitions since childhood.
Referrals
Enclosed in this mail is a document that collates all the Thank You mails for all successful conversions of Resumes into Jobs, and sometimes careers.
For interview calls, please write to CV_Raman@sachinroxmailbox.com
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Too Important to Fail
Dear Tax-payer,
I realise you deserve to know why I seek a bailout from the country for my now bankrupt Social Network company. I understand you feel the pinch when I’ve sought a Rs.5,42,325.25 bailout package from various financial institutions. But my reasons are too many. And too critical to the future of the country’s economy. Let me explain.
Because of my current financial crisis, I haven’t been able to tip the waiter at the local Darshini where I’ve been having my daily plate of Idly-Vada with an extra bowl of Sambar and two Filter Coffees. I know it’s hard for you to imagine this, but it is not a hypothetical scenario, dear Tax-payer. In fact, I’ve only been eating single Idly, and half cup Filter Coffee, at the self-service section of the Darshini, where I stand and eat. It has also helped me avoid the waiter by simply maneuvering into the crowd that’s waiting to collect their orders by the kitchen window. Because of the plummeting tip collections, our man has had to give up on his daily khamba of Old Monk rum, and now settles for a relatively cheaper quarter of Khodays. You do realise that’s a big dip in India’s economy if people were to replace their bottle of Old Monk, one litre pet bottle of Thumbs Up and a full plate of Chicken 65 with just two 90ml glasses of Khodays, a wedge of lime and a bowl of peanuts (not even the Rs. 5 Haldiram’s Masala peanuts, mind you). Good heavens!
And that’s not the only reason why I seek the Rs. 6, 17, 821. 72 bailout. The attentive reader may have noticed that my losses have increased by a full Rs. 75,496 and some change since I began my plea. Well you see, in those few hours, (err, I’m a slow writer, a slower editor, and the slowest thinker in the SEC C category of failed upstarts identified by the Balkampet branch of the LocalTrust Bank), the INR (sounds better than the Indian Rupee, no?) has fallen against the dollar, the Sensex has crashed more often than the fake windows version at the local internet parlour, and petrol prices have temporarily taken an un-Hindu rate of growth with a Rs. 3.14 per litre hike. But we digress.
With all the financial pressures, I’ve given up on my plans of buying Apple’s latest tablet, and instead I’m buying the relatively cheaper ones manufactured by Dr. Tirumalsetti’s Pharma. I’ve stopped buying songs at iTunes, and now only listen to my own tunes. I also made the supreme sacrifice of giving up on Bollywood movies at multiplexes, and instead resort to watching free downloads of movies produced in the Chinatown district of Kolkata. Don’t even get me started on how it would alter the financial fabric of the country if I was to incorporate these changes in my lifestyle in the long-term.
You may now want to know how I managed to lose it all before seeking a Rs. 7, 06, 659. 53 bailout. Well, that’s a fair question. Now let’s start at the very beginning. It all began during those days when the times were better, when people had more money in their pockets, and Orkut was still the most happening technology innovation in town. That is when I decided to make a pioneering foray in the Sports-Entertainment Industry by launching the Indian Book Cricket League. And going by the number of followers I got on the Orkut page, I was convinced that this would be the next financial page turner, and David Fincher would possibly have to buy the movie rights for my autobiography, which was due to release in the holiday season of 2007. Being a bit of an Amay Khurasiya of the Book Cricket world in my playing days, I was as confident as the aforementioned French Cricket legend that it wouldn’t have been too difficult for me to sell the idea to venture capitalists and private equity funds. But then suddenly, I got a legal notice from Cricket Authorities who believed they owned the name Cricket. And another one from another finance company in Mauritius, who believed I was giving the Pakistani Bookies in their employment a bad name, owing to the use of the word Book. And then, after the financial downturn that’s followed ever since, I couldn’t even afford to buy the latest version of MS Office, never mind hiring the services of an accountant, or a lawyer. That's when I decided to wind up operations, and have been surviving on the LIKES of fans on my Facebook page.
I could still go into financial details, but then I strongly believe that while a clever man does solve a problem, it takes a wise one to avoid it. So appealing to your good sense and wisdom, dear Tax-payer, let’s just agree to help me out with my finances with a Rs. 8, 97, 231. 25 bailout and forget this entire episode.
Yours Sincerely,
Failed Social Network Expert, and currently a consultant to owners of pages and communities on Facebook.
I realise you deserve to know why I seek a bailout from the country for my now bankrupt Social Network company. I understand you feel the pinch when I’ve sought a Rs.5,42,325.25 bailout package from various financial institutions. But my reasons are too many. And too critical to the future of the country’s economy. Let me explain.
Because of my current financial crisis, I haven’t been able to tip the waiter at the local Darshini where I’ve been having my daily plate of Idly-Vada with an extra bowl of Sambar and two Filter Coffees. I know it’s hard for you to imagine this, but it is not a hypothetical scenario, dear Tax-payer. In fact, I’ve only been eating single Idly, and half cup Filter Coffee, at the self-service section of the Darshini, where I stand and eat. It has also helped me avoid the waiter by simply maneuvering into the crowd that’s waiting to collect their orders by the kitchen window. Because of the plummeting tip collections, our man has had to give up on his daily khamba of Old Monk rum, and now settles for a relatively cheaper quarter of Khodays. You do realise that’s a big dip in India’s economy if people were to replace their bottle of Old Monk, one litre pet bottle of Thumbs Up and a full plate of Chicken 65 with just two 90ml glasses of Khodays, a wedge of lime and a bowl of peanuts (not even the Rs. 5 Haldiram’s Masala peanuts, mind you). Good heavens!
And that’s not the only reason why I seek the Rs. 6, 17, 821. 72 bailout. The attentive reader may have noticed that my losses have increased by a full Rs. 75,496 and some change since I began my plea. Well you see, in those few hours, (err, I’m a slow writer, a slower editor, and the slowest thinker in the SEC C category of failed upstarts identified by the Balkampet branch of the LocalTrust Bank), the INR (sounds better than the Indian Rupee, no?) has fallen against the dollar, the Sensex has crashed more often than the fake windows version at the local internet parlour, and petrol prices have temporarily taken an un-Hindu rate of growth with a Rs. 3.14 per litre hike. But we digress.
With all the financial pressures, I’ve given up on my plans of buying Apple’s latest tablet, and instead I’m buying the relatively cheaper ones manufactured by Dr. Tirumalsetti’s Pharma. I’ve stopped buying songs at iTunes, and now only listen to my own tunes. I also made the supreme sacrifice of giving up on Bollywood movies at multiplexes, and instead resort to watching free downloads of movies produced in the Chinatown district of Kolkata. Don’t even get me started on how it would alter the financial fabric of the country if I was to incorporate these changes in my lifestyle in the long-term.
You may now want to know how I managed to lose it all before seeking a Rs. 7, 06, 659. 53 bailout. Well, that’s a fair question. Now let’s start at the very beginning. It all began during those days when the times were better, when people had more money in their pockets, and Orkut was still the most happening technology innovation in town. That is when I decided to make a pioneering foray in the Sports-Entertainment Industry by launching the Indian Book Cricket League. And going by the number of followers I got on the Orkut page, I was convinced that this would be the next financial page turner, and David Fincher would possibly have to buy the movie rights for my autobiography, which was due to release in the holiday season of 2007. Being a bit of an Amay Khurasiya of the Book Cricket world in my playing days, I was as confident as the aforementioned French Cricket legend that it wouldn’t have been too difficult for me to sell the idea to venture capitalists and private equity funds. But then suddenly, I got a legal notice from Cricket Authorities who believed they owned the name Cricket. And another one from another finance company in Mauritius, who believed I was giving the Pakistani Bookies in their employment a bad name, owing to the use of the word Book. And then, after the financial downturn that’s followed ever since, I couldn’t even afford to buy the latest version of MS Office, never mind hiring the services of an accountant, or a lawyer. That's when I decided to wind up operations, and have been surviving on the LIKES of fans on my Facebook page.
I could still go into financial details, but then I strongly believe that while a clever man does solve a problem, it takes a wise one to avoid it. So appealing to your good sense and wisdom, dear Tax-payer, let’s just agree to help me out with my finances with a Rs. 8, 97, 231. 25 bailout and forget this entire episode.
Yours Sincerely,
Failed Social Network Expert, and currently a consultant to owners of pages and communities on Facebook.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
All about Whittling and verse
Never found a better version of a beginners guide to something. Now doesn't it inspire you to pick up a pocket knife yourself?
The Yankee boy, before he’s sent to school,
Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,
The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye
Turns, while he hears his mother’s lullaby;
His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,
Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it;
And in the education of the lad
No little part that implement hath had.
His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings
A growing knowledge of material things.
Projectiles, music, and the sculptor’s art,
His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart,
His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod,
Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,
His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone
That murmurs from his pumpkin-stalk trombone,
Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed
His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed,
His wind-mill, raised the passing breeze to win,
His water-wheel, that turns upon a pin;
Or, if his father lives upon the shore,
You’ll see his ship, “beam ends upon the floor,”
Full rigged, with raking masts, and timbers stanch,
And waiting, near the wash-tub, for a launch.
Thus, by his genius and his jack-knife driven,
Ere long he’ll solve you any problem given;
Make any jim-crack, musical or mute,
A plow, a couch, an organ, or a flute;
Make you a locomotive or a clock,
Cut a canal, or build a floating-dock,
Or lead forth Beauty from a marble block—
Make any thing, in short, for sea or shore,
From a child’s rattle to a seventy-four;—
Make it, said I?—ay! when he undertakes it,
He’ll make the thing and the machine that makes it.
And when the thing is made—whether it be
To move on earth, in air, or on the sea;
Whether on water, o’er the waves to glide,
Or, upon land to roll, revolve, or slide;
Whether to whirl or jar, to strike or ring,
Whether it be a piston or a spring,
Wheel, pulley, tube sonorous, wood or brass,
The thing designed shall surely come to pass;
For, when his hand’s upon it, you may know
That there’s go in it, and he’ll make it go.
- John Pierpont
The Yankee boy, before he’s sent to school,
Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,
The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye
Turns, while he hears his mother’s lullaby;
His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,
Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it;
And in the education of the lad
No little part that implement hath had.
His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings
A growing knowledge of material things.
Projectiles, music, and the sculptor’s art,
His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart,
His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod,
Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,
His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone
That murmurs from his pumpkin-stalk trombone,
Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed
His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed,
His wind-mill, raised the passing breeze to win,
His water-wheel, that turns upon a pin;
Or, if his father lives upon the shore,
You’ll see his ship, “beam ends upon the floor,”
Full rigged, with raking masts, and timbers stanch,
And waiting, near the wash-tub, for a launch.
Thus, by his genius and his jack-knife driven,
Ere long he’ll solve you any problem given;
Make any jim-crack, musical or mute,
A plow, a couch, an organ, or a flute;
Make you a locomotive or a clock,
Cut a canal, or build a floating-dock,
Or lead forth Beauty from a marble block—
Make any thing, in short, for sea or shore,
From a child’s rattle to a seventy-four;—
Make it, said I?—ay! when he undertakes it,
He’ll make the thing and the machine that makes it.
And when the thing is made—whether it be
To move on earth, in air, or on the sea;
Whether on water, o’er the waves to glide,
Or, upon land to roll, revolve, or slide;
Whether to whirl or jar, to strike or ring,
Whether it be a piston or a spring,
Wheel, pulley, tube sonorous, wood or brass,
The thing designed shall surely come to pass;
For, when his hand’s upon it, you may know
That there’s go in it, and he’ll make it go.
- John Pierpont
Friday, November 18, 2011
Baraka: The Film
I really wanted to review this one. But one can't truly describe a film that has no apparent script in words. So this is the best I could so. Enjoy!
Baraka (fullscreen) from Mikel Àngel Rotger (mlkconcept) on Vimeo.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
God Tweets
On the 94,612,288,345,980th day, I created a twitter account. And thought it was good
What all do I need to do just to boost the number of followers. #only176200281followerssofar
Don’t blame me for your problems. It takes millions of years to create fossils. #Petrolcrisis
Sharon Osborne. It wasn’t your dad who created Canni-bus. Say it right!
Now for my favourite reality show – Life. #MUHAHAHA
I’m bored of tweeting. Let’s try creating a facebook account now.
I’m getting bored here. Lets create some new religions.
Hey. You think all I do is judge you people down there. I have a life!
Stop writing so many books in my name. I’m losing count. #Religions
When he came up with relativity, Einstien was playing dice – God.
Nietzsche is dead – God.
Damn it! I’m not the one batting at Eden Gardens! And no, I’m much taller than 5’4”.
What gave you the impression that I’d like to be woken up by bad singing on Sunday mornings?
What all do I need to do just to boost the number of followers. #only176200281followerssofar
Don’t blame me for your problems. It takes millions of years to create fossils. #Petrolcrisis
Sharon Osborne. It wasn’t your dad who created Canni-bus. Say it right!
Now for my favourite reality show – Life. #MUHAHAHA
I’m bored of tweeting. Let’s try creating a facebook account now.
I’m getting bored here. Lets create some new religions.
Hey. You think all I do is judge you people down there. I have a life!
Stop writing so many books in my name. I’m losing count. #Religions
When he came up with relativity, Einstien was playing dice – God.
Nietzsche is dead – God.
Damn it! I’m not the one batting at Eden Gardens! And no, I’m much taller than 5’4”.
What gave you the impression that I’d like to be woken up by bad singing on Sunday mornings?
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