The Secret Life of Walkesh Mitter, Copywriter.

“And the Terbium Metal Award for outstanding services to the Advertising Industry goes to…”, said Mark Avignon, the last recipient of the honour at the Salzburg International Advertising Awards. For a second, there was complete silence in the 5000-seat Baroque styled Amphitheatre which stood proudly in the world heritage site that was Salzburg. With the silhouette of the Alpine backdrop in sharp contrast to the bright lights of the festival, there couldn’t have been a better venue for such a prestigious award. There was tension in the air, but there was only one man in the crowd who sat with a quiet confidence. In fact, he knew he’d be taking home the award this year the minute he was left out of the jury for the honorary position he’d served since the inception of the Terbium Awards five years back. “The man’s going to win.”, said Jiju Joseph, a senior Indian creative. “And at 29, he’ll be the youngest Terbium winner by a distance”, the veteran declared.  

  

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?” shouted Akash Mehta, a 36-year old Creative Director at AHV Advertising. “Walkesh, you were expected to be at the client’s place now, presenting your campaign. But here you cluelessly sit, without a care in the world. Now we have been given one more chance. And I cannot have you Screw it up again. So get of your fuckin’ arse and GET WORKING!”   

“Huh!”, said Walkesh. He turned to see Akash breathing down his neck over a deadline that was safely missed. Just like several others that happen every other day. “Well…err…there’s an idea that's brewing in my head…”, he whimpered. “YES! I can see how keen you are on seeing the job completed. Can you at least name the project that we are currently discussing? Which has already reached a critical state?”

Walkesh looks helplessly at Somdev - his art partner - hoping to find a clue. But like a student who is desperately guessing to achive a pass mark in his viva voce, the dreamy copywriter mentally scans through his joblist. “I know, I know. It’s regarding the Ebony Shampoo press ad right? I’m working on the headline.”

Akash and Somdev nearly suffer a haemorrhage each on hearing Walkesh’s response. “He was referring to the New Generation School pitch.” said Som, trying to gain a rare brownie point with Akash. “And thank you for reminding us of how late you were on the Ebony Shampoo ad”, clarifies Akash, who was forced to wrap up that blasted press ad the week before when the client threatened to part ways with his agency unless he stepped in.

 “Please join me in welcoming the Creative Tycoon, Walkesh Mitter”, said the pretty emcee, as several young students jumped from their seats to get a closer view of the man who revolutionised the communication industry with his radical concepts in Integrated Marketing and Communications. The applause was deafening. And it only stopped when Walkesh raised his hand deftly, like a virtuoso conductor.

“Well, I thank you all for the kindness that you have showered on me. But in all honesty, I don’t think very greatly of my work.” Murmurs in the crowd, some appreciative of the man’s modesty, others critical of his false-modesty. “You see, I have spent considerable time to further develop those ideas that have given me all the fame and honour. And those very ideas that have brought me to this stage, will be rendered void when I unveil my new set of ideas.” The murmurs grow louder. But Walkesh raises his hands once more. “That, ladies and gentleman, is one of the best learnings I’ve received in the fortunate career I’ve enjoyed. You have to be the best judge of your own work, and irrespective of what the world thinks of your work, you have to find ways of constantly elevating your own work to a higher standard. Even if its original form brings you all the laurels you’ve dreamed of. That, in my opinion, is the essence of a creative career, and more importantly, a creative life.” Another deafening applause follows. Once more, Walkesh raises his hand characteristically.

“ Yes, Mr. Mitter. You seem to be a little too keen on offering your views on the recruitment scene in the Banking industry during the economic slowdown?” said Amit Joshi, who headed the HR of Global Bank of India. Walkesh looks at all the amused faces of the client, Akash and Som around him, much like a man who suddenly fell into the room when the roof gave away. “ Well…Sir, I was just hoping you’d help us summarise the problem we were discussing…” A few frustrated heaves follow. Walkesh’s colleagues seem a little concerned with his request. Joshi on the other hand is adamant. “So Mitter, which part of our hour-long discussion didn’t you follow?” In what was perhaps the greatest act of collective Harakiri in the corporate world, Akash jumps to the rescue. “Amit! Let me reiterate. As the agency, it is your belief that our creative team should have been a little more specific with the last recruitment ad for the Managing Director of GBI.”

The half balding client nearly pulled apart his modest mane on hearing a half-baked justification from the Creative Director. Mockingly making air quotes, Amit retorts, “I think calling it a little more specific is putting it a little too mildly. How do you explain a recruitment ad for a Managing Director without ever mentioning the words “Managing Director” even a single time in the ad? And whats worse, your great writer has the nerve to ask me to summarise this for him!! Are we wasting our marketing budget on retards like Mr Mitter here? Mr. Mehta, I'll refuse to pay for this ad. And I demand a fresh ad immediately.”

After being shown the door after much agony, the Creative Director finally exhausts his emotional reserves and gives Walkesh a whack on his head. “This is the last time I’ll ever try to defend you. I thought I saw your worst this morning, but your incompetence can take you far lower than I can ever imagine. Here, let me pat your back once more,” said Akash sarcastically, before taking out his anger on Walkesh’s back.

“They have no idea about my abilities”, thought Walkesh as he returned to office. “I’ll make them regret their words when they finally see what conspires in the great mind of Walkesh Mitter. Now what was this great brief about?" said Mitter, more as a reminder to himself than anything else.

“Rarely, have we the luxury of recognising the efforts of a man so overqualified to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Let us take a moment to remember the great contributions of Walkesh Mitter. Communications pioneer. Writer par excellence. And a fine human being.” Said a septuagenarian in a dour tone, as a one minute biopic highlighted the accomplishments of Walkesh Mitter. As the film comes to an end, the audience start clapping respectively and give a white-haired Walkesh a standing ovation. As he receives the trophy, Walkesh patiently waits for the audience to stop clapping before he begins, “It has been my belief that Man can achieve a great many things if he is only given his right to dream. And I have only committed myself to fight for this cause. Because nothing in god’s world should stop a man from his right to dream?” He then lifts his prize aloft as the audience start applauding.

“DAY DREAMING AGAIN, YOU IDIOT?” Shouts Akash, as Walkesh drops the pen he was holding high up in the air.    

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!

Whats New? What News?

There comes a time in your life when cheap thrills cease to be...well, cheap. When everything you do is subjected to a cost-benefit analysis in a neat looking excel sheet titled "daily expenses", and the high point of your day is a five rupee coin you magically discover when your fifth-hand semi automatic Washing Machine starts rattling a new tune. And that's when you start asking yourself, "When is the next pay check coming, b******d?" You also discover at least 91 new words in a reply to "What's new?" ( If you include the words in the parenthesis, make that 102)

Lets call it the quarter crisis. It's not to be mistaken for quarter-life crisis, when the hair you lose on your head magically appears in places you'd never imagined, like ear lobes. More about that later, after a few years hopefully.The quarter crisis occurs when you accompany friends to a swanky bar and realise you cant even afford any more than a quarter bottle of your favourite drink. And that's when you make a calculated decision like, "I think I'll stick to beer only. One Kingfisher pint, please."

Yes, much has changed. New job. New city. New companion. New friends. New books. New ring on the finger. New found obsession for loose change. But mostly, it's still the same. Still cribbing about how expensive things are. Still complaining about how little I save. Still whining about how little time I have for myself. Still trying to catch up on lost sleep. Here's to "same old, same old". Cheers, I guess. 

Bombay's Not-to-do List

1. Hop into a fast train when you don’t know if it will stop at your destination

2. Hop into Virar Fast, even if you know where you are headed

3. If you ignore point 1 and 2, then get into a Virar Fast and joke about how it’s too slow to be called fast

4. Make a cricketing reference to point 3, like calling the Virar Fast the Venkatesh Prasad of the Mumbai Local Trains

5. Ask a station master where to buy tickets

6. Show off your first class pass

7. Ask two people on which side the platform comes. The first one will take offense at your lack of trust

8. Joke about how people here love hanging out with friends in trains, quite literally

9. Tell somebody that you won’t be getting off at the next stop

10. Fall asleep while you are standing inside a crowded train

11. Get off a train against the momentum

12. Wait till the train stops at Kurla

13. Ask a local to wait in the auto queue

14. Hop into an auto and call the man bhaiya when he talks to you in Marathi

15. Try explaining to the “bhaiya”(or not) that Khar 19^th road is the same thing as Khar Uneesva.

16. Try taking an Auto at Kurla

17. Try looking for an Auto at Dadar

18. Hop into a bus at South Bombay. Five stops later, you’ll find that you are still at a walkable distance from your first stop

19. Hop into a bus when you only need to get off at the next stop

20. Listen to the cabbies sob story. He watches more Reality TV than you do

21. Ask the man on the street where you’d get the best vada pav

22. Calling any deal from Chor bazaar a steal

23. Support any team other than Mumbai Indians. Even India wouldn’t do

24. Bring up the subject of Sachin’s poor form

25. Bring up the subject of Sachin’s retirement

26. Ask people how much rent they pay. It’s worse than asking them how much they earn

27. Ask a hakim on the street where you could find the closest medical store

28. Ask a roadside vendor where’s the nearest ATM

29. Ask a Sandwich walla where he buys vegetables

30. Ask the pani puri walla where you could buy drinking water

31. Stand in front of Shah Rukh Khan’s house just to call one hardcore fan and tell her that. You just look like an idiot

32. Argue with a fan that SRK is actually a delhi boy

33. Go to a Bombay beach to smell the fresh ocean air

34. Go to Leopold’s and insist on a fast service

35. Go to Mondegar’s immediately after Leopold’s

36. Ask a Teen Batti resident why its called Teen Batti

37. Tell him why it’s called Teen Batti

38. Wear your best pair of shoes if you are pandal hopping during Ganesh Chathurthi

39. Take a train on Ganesh Visarjan day

40. Search for the fort at Fort

41. Ask for Kala Ghoda once you’re at Kala Ghoda

42. Joke around asking if Titwala was named after a friendly parsee gentleman

43. Eat Missal Pav when you’re wearing a white shirt

44. Asking a cabbie what a visitor could do at Grant Road

45. Complain about how you have no time in life

46. Complain about how little you earn

47. Complain

48. Tell a Mumbaikar you are writing a list like this one

49. And that you’ve managed to write upto No. 49

50. Insist on calling the city Bombay and not Mumbai.

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!”

Charged with...wait for it...

Yes, I confess. I'm guilty. Of procrastination. Of spending several days thinking and planning what needed to be done yesterday, only to put it off for tomorrow. Of taking matters in my own hands, and then conveniently sweeping it under the carpet when nobody's watching, only hoping to miraculously pull it out later, along with the rug that the very same people were standing on. I plead guilty of all this and more.  I could of course present the end that could justify my means in this very sentence. But then I think I’ll save that for later. In the last paragraph of this hearing, which I’ll be able to write the first thing tomorrow morning. After I’ve slept over it. Perhaps.

You see, I don’t intentionally delay my actions by a day at the very least. It’s just that I was born that way. A full fifteen minutes later than scheduled. And that was because the doctor on duty was delayed by a train he missed. Only because the man at the counter insisted on tendering exact change. Which the good doctor had to produce only after a detailed excavation of his briefcase. One should never rush in the matters of such financial transactions after all.

Now you’d say 15 minutes is hardly a delay. What it did to my life however was cascade it into a ledger full of backlogs. I learned to talk at least 15 days later, joined kindergarten at least 15 months later, learnt to cycle at least 15 years later, and learned to ask a girl at least 15 lifetimes later.( I once had asked a nice girl out on a date, but only went to pick her up on the wrong date.)

This handicap of mine also seems to rub off on people I deal with. The newspaper reaches 20 minutes after I get out of the pot. The maid walks in one hour after I’ve done the dishes. The paycheck gets credited one week after I’m broke.

But let me assure you. It’s not that I while away hours, waiting to finish any job long after it is due. I’m just incradibly busy trying to ride an ocean of tasks that were previously shelved. But about a month back, I had an awakening of sorts. I decided to do something about this, and went and picked up the first tome I could find on time management. I took some time out to read and implement these changes into my life. The book on effective time management took me more time to read thank I had imagined - 23 days. Which is why, I was forced to write this piece a full month after I first thought of it.

I know I should not end any blog post abruptly. But honestly, would you care to spend any more time reading a piece like this? With this responsibility in mind, I rest my case.

Plain Broke!

I'm always fascinated by man's desire to hold on to things that are absolutely worthless. As a result, ones life is overly populated with objects that serve no purpose whatsoever. Seriously! Look around you. 

I have two sets of desktop speakers that have collectively done little else than occupy space and collect dust  since 2009, three phones that I used to carry before the one I’m currently using (which again is over two years old) and my old iPod shuffle that still contains the latest album I’d downloaded shortly after its release,(which is Ministry of Sound Annual 2007). Does the iPod still work, you ask. Well, I couldn’t say. I haven’t found the earphones that I last saw in…That’s right. 2007! Not to forget three expired ATM cards that were forced upon me every time I changed a job (and hence a salary account). Now I wonder if I also have the chequebook that I’d applied for in the summer of 2008. It must be here somewhere among all the 6 years’ Airtel bills that are still neatly tucked inside their respective envelops. (Just kidding! I switched to an email option three years back, so I only have bills up until June 2010)

I’m starting to believe that every object that is created today, especially those built for the betterment of mankind, is “designed” to serve the purpose only for a short while. After which, it only piles on. This applies to every modern-day gadget / appliance / tool except that VCD player you won as a gift at a game show. And that’s because you never even opened it from the case and packed it off as a gift at the next wedding you were invited to. And besides, you’d already graduated to DVDs by then, hadn't you?

The other exception is probably the 2 GB pendrive you got when you redeemed your Credit Card points for the first time. It still does its job of carrying as a souvenir a virus, at least one each from every single system it’s been plugged into.

 Now let me have a look at all the other things around me that I Once fell for like a ton of bricks when I first lay my eyes on them, but now only compete with me for some precious space in my room. A visiting card book, containing cards of people I'm never going to call again. An organizer with a parker pen neatly placed in a holder, used only once when my name had to be written. A 2009 Calendar featuring Bollywood hotties as shot by Daboo Ratnani. CD Album, carrying freeware CDs that still contain demo versions of Sonic the Hedgehog. An off-white coffee mug, that’s only been used to hold pens that don’t write anymore. 24 issues of GQ magazine, which I subscribed to hoping I’d upgrade my style as I approach the 30s. 36 issues of Time Magazine, which I subscribed to hoping that it would help me sound my age. And a digital weighing scale that needs recalibration every time I add a kilo.

But here’s where you’ll really feel shortchanged. When you are sold the idea of how functional these things are “designed” to be, they seem like something that’d you’d give your arm and leg to own. Like a spare kidney or something.  And for a while, it actually seems like your life actually depends on it. Like it is your only kidney or something. And all hell breaks loose when it suddenly stops working. Like you need a kidney transplant on the pronto or something. But after a while, it only contributes to the junk around you. Just like those empty bottles of alcohol, which might be the real reason why you need a spare kidney or something.

Your mobile phone is a fine example of how unnecessary these luxuries really are. As a device, your phone is actually meant to help you make calls when you are on the move. But surely, that’s not good enough. Today a phone needs to come with a PS3 integrated into it, along with a 52 inch LED screen, a Home Theatre system with surround sound, and if that’s still not enough, the whole of IMDB Top 250 loaded into it. So you never really find the time to use it make one phone call. How could you? (Battery) Life is too short and you have so much to do.  

All of which leads me to believe that thanks to all these - pardon the oxymoron - unnecessary necessities, life has become way too expensive. Which is why if any of these oddities broke one fine day, you feel really broke. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I were ever to live my life again, I’d reside in a distant village that was completely devoid of all these gadgets or luxuries. Yes, really. Okay, maybe I’ll carry just one iPad… and get a good broadband connection…and a functional microwave…oh wait, and a fully automatic washing machine…okay, and a set top box with all the sports channels…and a 52 inch LED TV…and a PS3...Oh and some good B&O speakers...and one e-book reader, with thousands of e-books…and a large refrigerator…and a lazyboy with a beer bottle holder...and a titanium credit card…That should suffice. Or would it?