Stopping by words of copy on a Sunday Evening

    Thankfully for the world, Robert Frost was a poet who won as many as four Pulitzer Prizes for turning his observations of rustic life into complex philosophy through poetry. But I wonder what was to become of his poetry if he was stuck in this time, and forced to make a living as a copywriter, and turn his observations from a plethora of reference material like Award journals, newspapers, TV, internet, FB etc. into a simple sales pitch through words. My guess is he may have ended up writing something like this:

Whose words these are I think I know

His campaigns are from across the sea though;

He will never see me stopping here

To read his copy from an old One Show

The security here must think it queer,

To read something from the yesteryear,

In between deadlines on a Sunday night,

Surely the darkest night of the year.

He gives my shoulder a gentle tap,

Wondering if I was having a nap,

Because the only other sound is of the AC

As I was lost in the tome on my lap.

The words in there are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have too many deadlines to keep,   

And many lines to go before I sleep,   

And many lines to go before I sleep.

So You Think You Are Funny?

As a teenager, I spent a few years trying to crack an original joke. And spent many more years waiting to unleash it at a crowd when they least expect it. Just so I time it well. And be hailed as a king of spontaneous wit. Because for some strange reason, this funny voice that seems to emerge from my hypothalamus always told me that it’s going to make me popular. So armed with a few puns, I started writing jokes. I now realise it’s not the same as being funny, but humour me for a few more lines, won’t you?

After writing a few jokes, it occurred to me that it would take me a lifetime before I found an opportune moment to say something like, “KFC is a truly democratic organisation. Whether it’s the left wing or the right wing, both can be bought at the same price.”  What was I thinking?

Probably I thought I’d earned the right to be funny. Taking a cue from all those countless Bollywood movies of the 90s, where one would see 35-year-old heroes literally dancing around college, I learnt that if you weren’t hero enough to say “Meri Pant Bhi Sexy”, your best shot at getting some glory as a side-kick would be if you were witty enough to say, “Draupadi teri akele ki nahi hai … hum sab shareholder hain”. So I went about trying to write something funny every day.

To say I stayed committed would be an understatement. It’s almost like saying the IPL ads are irritating, when you actually mean to say that they are like mosquitoes breeding on Columbia’s most valuable chemicals. So on I wrote, one joke at a time. And what drove me to do this every day? Just a few laughs actually. “When I tell people I want to kick off a career in comedy, they laugh.”

But the more I tried to say something funny, the more I ended up laughing at myself. Here’s a sample, “I’m so lazy that even in my dreams, I find myself sleeping.”

I’d begun this earnest exercise four years back. I am still very far away from calling myself a funny guy. But at least, in four years I’d like to believe I spent more time trying to make sense than Rahul Gandhi has all his life. “What’s common to Congress and the pizza from the neighbourhood bakery? Both have a rotten crust with some Italian topping. ”

I’ll probably never know what it is to be a full-time comic. But thanks to this silly exercise I subjected myself to, I can make a safe guess. “As a kid, I thought becoming a humour writer would help me laugh all the way to the bank. Today, the only one who seems to be laughing is my banker.”

So after attempting to write 1407 jokes over the last four years, I’ve come to realise there are just two ways to look at all the troubles in life. I could choose to call them nightmares and lose my sleep over them. Or call them bad jokes and laugh it off. I think I’ll do the latter.

If it will bring me nothing else, it will at least help me think up of stuff like this – “The problem with being labelled a funny guy is the women stop taking you seriously.”

The Liebster Award For Me?

Okay, it's just a nomination. And if you wondering why I'm making such a "Horn OK Please" about it is because the one who nominated me was a travel blogger. That's right. Her virtual journey brought her to my blog, she liked what she saw and then nominated me.Yes me, a motion sickness victim whose most interesting travel discovery in recent times has been a short cut to the Sion station from the house at Chunabhatti. Hard to believe, isn't it? Thank you, Miss Divya Rai. You've given me a reason to believe in myself. To be nominated for a writing prize is something new to me. To be honest, the last time I was even considered for a writing award was when I won the first prize at a caption writing contest at an event at Aptech Computers when I was in Standard 4. Thank you for giving me a reason to return to this blog once more. :)

So, what’s a Liebster Award?
The Liebster Blog Award is given to upcoming/new bloggers or who have less than 200 followers. The ‘Liebster’ word is of German origin and means sweetest/ kindest/ nicest/ dearest/ beloved/ lovely/ kind/ pleasant/ valued/ cute/ endearing/ welcome…

How does it work? 

1. Link back to the persons blog who has nominated you and convey thanks for giving the award.
2. Answer all questions posted by the nominator.
3. Nominate 10 more bloggers whom you feel are deserving of more subscribers; you pass the award on to them.
4. Create 10 questions for the nominees.
5. Contact the nominees and let them know that they have been nominated for the Liebster Award.

The questions I have to answer:

1) One blogpost, which is not from your blog and you think that everyone MUST read it. (Link)
It has to be something by the great Malayali legend, Sidin 'Sunny' Vadukut, who is to Malayali bloggers, what Bob Marley is to Rastafarians. Sample this.

2) Ink-pen, or ball-point pen?
Neither. Nothing has contributed more to my writing than MS Word. Thanks to computers, at least I'm no longer forced to decipher my own handwriting.

3) Have you ever taken a solo holiday?
Yes. I do that often enough. When when I'm in company while on a journey, I'm usually lost in my own world.

4) Your forever crush.
None. My brushes with crushes never last any more than a couple of months. But my first one would be the most special one, and that's Steffi Graf.

5) One book you can read over and over again.
It has to be Catcher In The Rye. Wait, let me read it once more.

6) Your favorite family member?
There cant be just one. Mom, dad and sis.

7) Romantic love, or friendship?
I've been lucky here. So friendship only,

8) Apart from a blogger, you are…?
Nothing much. Don't have much of a life, and write ad copy for a living.

9) Best holiday you had was in (place)?
Has to be the Andamans. Went there as a 6-year old. Still remember the golden sands. And every other beach has been a disappointment ever since.

10) Most adventurous thing you have ever done is…?
Heh! Well, does taking this questionnaire count? If not, I once played the role of a male ballet dancer in a play.

I nominate the following blogs for the Liebster Award

http://www.simblybored.com/

http://taxfreethoughts.wordpress.com/

http://cupandchaucer.wordpress.com/

http://mochachilo.wordpress.com/

http://be-sandeep.blogspot.in/

http://kidakaka.com/blog/category/funny/

http://www.darshi-bappa.blogspot.in/

http://joylita.com/

http://anamedoesntmatter.blogspot.in/

http://sameerdharur.blogspot.in/

The questions for my  nominees

1. Share the link of the funniest blog post you've read.

2. If you could live the life of one character from literature, who would it be?

3. If you were to be stuck in one city for the rest of your life, which would it be?

4. What's the first thing you do when you wake up?

5. Who is your biggest blogging role model?

6. What prompted you to write your first ever blog post?

7. What book are you currently reading?

8. Where do you plan to holiday next?

9. What's your favourite drink( alcoholic preferably)?

10. What's the weirdest(exotic if you insist) food you've sampled?

Cheers!

I'm a Modern Man by George Carlin.

Ah! What a self-intro!

“I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium. Digital and smoke free. A diversified multi-cultural, post-modern deconstruction that is anatomically and ecologically incorrect. 

I’ve been up linked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced, I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading. I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting edge, state-of-the-art bi-coastal multi-tasker and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond! 

I’m new wave, but I’m old school and my inner child is outward bound. I’m a hot-wired, heat seeking, warm-hearted cool customer, voice activated and bio-degradable. I interface with my database, my database is in cyberspace, so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin the wave, dodgin the bullet and pushin the envelope. I’m on-point, on-task, on-message and off drugs. I’ve got no need for coke and speed. I’ve got no urge to binge and purge. I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar. A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary. A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom feeder. 

I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps. I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach. A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial! 

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda. You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down because I’m tireless and I’m wireless, I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers. I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever, laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance. Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built-to-last! 

I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head case pretty maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love-child that sends me hate mail. But, I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing– a supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver. 

My output is down, but my income is up. I took a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow. I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds and I watch trash sports! I’m gender specific, capital intensive, user-friendly and lactose intolerant. 

I like rough sex. I like tough love. I use the “F” word in my emails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore–no soft porn. I bought a microwave at a mini-mall; I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast-food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes. A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically- formulated medical miracle. 

I’ve been pre-wash, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed and, I have an unlimited broadband capacity. I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean! 

Cocked, locked and ready-to-rock. Rough, tough and hard to bluff. I take it slow, I go with the flow, I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride. Drivin’ and movin’, sailin’ and spinin’, jiving and groovin’, wailin’ and winnin’. I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty and lunch time is crunch time. I’m hangin’ in, there ain’t no doubt and I’m hangin’ tough, over and out!”

If

Just found this modern rendition of Kipling's classic 

If you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills, 
If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains, 
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles, 
If you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it, 
If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
If you can overlook when people take things out on you when, 
           through no fault of yours, something goes wrong, 
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment, 
If you can face the world without lies and deceit, 
If you can conquer tension without medical help, 
If you can relax without liquor, 
If you can sleep without the aid of drugs, 
If you can do all these things, 

Then you are probably the family dog. 

This is not the title of my latest blog entry!

Have you ever had this serendipitous experience of inadvertently saying something fascinating and then later being awestruck by the sheer brilliance of it?

The other day,I finally understood why “The swiftest traveler is he that goes afoot”. So if you are given to believe Wren & Martin for rules of grammar, “I’m a liar!” is a simple statement.But,think again. So how would you classify a sentence like “I’m such a good liar that I actually believe everything I say”. Well, when I said this the other day, I just couldn't believe it. If I may venture to say so, the rules of grammar are, in reality, very illusive.

So, ladies and gentlemen, if you’ve not deciphered anything that’s written here, you’re better off thinking it was not written by yours truly.

A day in the life of...

“So why don’t you blog as often as I’d like you to?” asked a friend. That’s an interesting one. I could possibly write about it. I just had to write about it. I was really excited about this one. Man! It’s brilliant! Wow!


“Woke up, got out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs

And drank a cup
And looking up,

I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat
Found my way upstairs

And had a smoke
Somebody spoke

And I went into a dream
Ah…”


I could feel some path-breaking creativity shaping up in my head, and the forms were swaying to the tunes of a Beatles number. I just had to start typing. Oh! I cannot wait anymore. Oh! The Bloody Traffic…


An hour in the traffic, which seems like a day, is spent fantasizing about what is to come. The hullabaloo of honking Hyundais and Hondas are lost on me as my mind continues working in a flip-flop mode, alternating between an inebriated writer and his martinet editor; the former conjuring up verses without a care for deadlines while the latter dissecting and transplanting words, which fail to impress.


By the time I reach home, my thoughts have elevated to great heights. It's 8 PM! No time to waste! Rush to the shower, the kettle’s heating, the system’s turned on. Time for some action! The lights are dimmed; Dizzy Gillespie plays in the background as I stare at the plain white text file. Time passes, excitement in my veins, hand-eye reflexes reach a peak, an emotional everest is conquered, and there's more, it's a creative burst in my head, and all the veins feel the impulses...and there is more...It's a thunder storm, I'm profusely sweating, yet I enjoy the moment like a walk in a teeming rain, ... oh my god! and theres more...a lightning in my mind sends electric arrows all over... my eyes are blinded by a rainbow that strike my eyelids, i shut my eyes and I see words weave themselves into sentences, sentences into paragraphs , ...into fairytales,...triggering by other senses...a foam of music fills my ears and renders a racing pulse, ... my nostrils flare up and my mouth opens to fuel the inner flames...the heart is pumping overtime like a steam engine and cannot take it anymore...oh god!...the words...the emotions...passion... ecstasy ... fervor...bliss...ah...goodness...this is life...jesus christ...the words...i need some more words ...more words...i'm running out of 'em...just some more...a little more...ahhh...THE END!

Normalcy is restored, the heart is less frantic, each breath is longer than the preceding one, the paroxysm of pleasure settles down into a mist of fulfillment, a warm glow envelops the body and lethargy obscures reality. I open my tired eyes and find the blank document stare at me, indifferently. My mind's too exhausted to start it all over again. Besides it's 2 AM. Sigh!

And this song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme

As I lay down on my bed, I realise that my thoughts and I are too detached, and the relationship, a mere one-night stand isn't good enough to procreate an idea that's worthy of being written about. Now I know why I dont blog as often as I'd like to. That being said, it's still a wonderful experience as it leaves my intellectual batteries recharged, to live at the least another day in the life of... (ahem!) yours truly.

The Write Way

Recently I was asked about the rules I follow when I attempt to write. Humm! I’d never been made to feel like an expert before, so I thought I’d strike the iron when the sun shines, err, I mean making hay when it’s hot. I’ll list down all the “proverbial” rules I am conscious of when I attempt to write:

1. Convince your readers with brevity. I never use more words, phrases, sentences, or other linguistic elements and parts of speech than I, myself, can actually and precisely use or employ when expressing myself or otherwise giving voice to what I may or may not be thinking when I am trying to say how many words I should use or not use while using words.

2. And I never begin a sentence with a conjunction.

3. To begin a sentence with an infinitive is incorrect.

4. I avoid clichés; they are old chestnuts.

5. I avoid annoying alliterations that are also abrasive and awkward.

6. And the secret of funny writing? …timing! Let me explain once more, I never drag a joke to such an extent that it outlives its lifetime and is easily forgotten. Did you get it? Wait! I’ll say that again…(read rule no.7 again)

7. Employing foreign words and phrases ad infinitum hovers on ad nauseam.

8. Starting a sentence with a hanging gerund is one of my favourite “no-nos”.

9. I use my commas wisely lest I’m labeled forgive the pun “rebel without a clause”.

10. I hate using single word sentences. Period!

11. I avoid using quotations that digress from the subject. As Ralph Waldo Emerson is said to have once remarked, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."

12. Puns are entertaining for kids, or the children-at-heart. For “groan” readers, they are “pun”ishing.

13. I use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.

14. It’s my blog. So I make the rules. And I rewrite them with every new entry. So my own suggestion, never follow any rules. Just blame it on your creativity.