the confession of an AD-dict

Advertising is a strange profession. It both exhilarates and annihilates. It's a love that can almost destroy you emotionally and alienate you from society. It pumps you to the top, it hurls you to the bottom. It's an addiction which you can't be cured off, which you don't even know if it's good for your system. It's a high. it's a kick. it's a drug more potent that anything else. It's not a profession, its a culture, it's not a job, it's a way of life... if you are in advertising, you'll see the world in a whole new angle. And you'll laugh at it but alone, 'coz the world will not get your point. The tension when the idea doesn't happen to you, the uncertainty of the apple that might or might not drop on your head. The sudden rush when the idea hits you, when the film just unfolds in your minds eye and you happily type it out, is just unparalleled. Nothing can replace it. It's your love for this art that keeps you almost tied to it even while you are on a holiday, at home, or even at a wedding. It's honestly so overpowering that you seem to leave everything behind for it. I wonder if all of it is a madness at times, and often feel guilty for giving it my all... but i can't seem to resist it. I have surrendered to it heart and soul, and my goofy grin says it all! So am on this ad-venture like Ulysses and do not know where it will take me... but i shall ride the waves, and grab the star dust, and hear the mermaid sing... for it is like the journey of a lifetime.

waste not want not

Our generation doesn't waste time anymore! But i somehow cannot decide whether that's good or bad? For instance on the potty seat most people talk or text, and it's not just me, i keep hearing from behind the partition in office loo, people texting away to glory! So while you wait for the poo to drop why not utilise the time? Before i fall asleep, i mean i am on the brink of nodding off, am barely conscious, i am possessed by the need to play a quick game on my Itouch... which i do! Then again, i multitask like a lunatic, i face book, i work, i chat, i talk on the phone all together, without any qualms. I can't just watch TV i also need to do something along with it, just like a side dish with main course! 90% people watch TV while eating... which i am guilty of too! Today it's a normal sight for people talk on phone while driving or being driven, nobody does one thing at one time anymore! Lack of patience, desire to achieve a lot more at one go? I don't know what to call it. I think we are racing against time to conquer it. I think that's what man wanted from the start, 'coz it was that one thing that man couldn't master. And that's why i guess we are trying to make every minute count.

size does matter

i have tried to bribe my weighing scale many times into showing me just the figure i want. but to no avail. going into apparel stores have become shameful, trying to fit into a double seater rickshaw is equally detrimental to self esteem. Many time i have just about thrown the other person travelling with me, off. Going to social gatherings are the worst. No one greets me with hi, hello and other pleasantries. They just shriek with mortification. I always thought... ok am fat, but am not thaaaaat fat. there is a difference. But all differences now become one with my waistline.

The thought of a gym makes me wanna crawl into a dark corner, the idea of morning walks make me sleepy, the mention of a diet... triggers a zillion cravings inside. I have given the word 'lardli' a new meaning. you know lard...as in fat?

i feel helpless in front of flurys or cookie jar, i would give them my purse as an offering in return of all the delightful pastries and other goodies they give me in return. and when guilt strikes i keep trying every other diet in the world only to increase my appetite... after breaking a zillion weight loss resolutions am a little miffed about the entire charade.

am angry at all those apparel stores who don't keep xl and xxl as sizes ( as if they expect the whole world to sport hour-glass figures) am furious with all those men who have made it mandatory for a woman to be of a certain acceptable size... i particularly loath people who make it a point to rub it in! I want to rally against all movies and tv serials who show perfect women, in their perfect make up with their perfect clothes in their perfect bodies. Life isn't this... i detest them for this mass brain wash... for controlling our lives and making us abide by a certain norm. Who set these standards anyways...

yes being healthy is important, who doesn't want to be, but your metabolism is not in your hands. some people are genetically blessed with slim structures some are not... what is the entire big deal about this? why doesn't anyone look inside.. why is it always about the exterior....

so i tell you my deprived, anorexic, starving, driven out of their minds, depressed, in denial... fellow obese women... size does matter... but the size of your hot dog! \m/ So enjoy and you are beautiful let no one tell you otherwise!

you can beat the heat but not the memories

while the sultry summers set in... while the sweat trickles down the neck... while the sunglasses of various shapes and sizes make their way... i just want my dark ac room, a chilled glass of juice and my paperback. the past few days I've developed an aversion to work and all that i want to do...is either travel to the hills despite the fact that am broke or you know just draw the curtains and read. it's my way of beating the heat? who knows... i just can't help remembering my childhood summer holidays, when i used to just wile away my afternoons and be so glad about life! suck on a spoonful of tamarind pickle and watch the various cartoons and afternoon shows on TV like street hawk, Disney world, some soap on battling computer viruses. i used to watch them avidly... my other time pass was playing pranks on my family, my grandparents would be the unsuspecting victims of my various atyachaar. we have a huge house with interesting nooks and corners to just lose oneself in... each parapet, each window sill, each veranda has so many memories. afternoons were also a time when i used to write my lengthy letters to friends who just stayed across the street. i miss the famous fives, the hardy boys, the nancy drews... and later all the classics, novels, bestsellers... i miss everything... i miss the ice cream wala calling out from the street... i miss rushing down the stairs to grab an ice-lolly. i miss those long winding phone conversations and day dreaming about some guy i developed a short interest over.

Now its just the keyboard, shit load of work, meetings, deadlines, ideas, brainstorming, copy, art, copy, more copy, proof... gawd.... i wish somebody could return those afternoons to me. those stories told by my granddad, those plays on radio... the taste of watermelon juice frozen in ice-cube trays... i guess the taste of the summers gone by will stay with me forever and lighten my load as i plough through another grown-up summer.

I love you, man!!

It's a strange phenomena that women no longer suspect their husbands like they used to. I'm not saying the bond has become one of deep trust. All that am saying is women don't fear their own sex anymore but feel a kind of paranoia when their husbands/boyfriends display a little more than usual affection for their own kind i.e men.

Few days back past midnight when my husband and me were preparing to call it a day and had just slipped inside the cosy blanket... his cell phone beeped. I pounced on his phone and read the message. It was from a 'guy' named sayan(have never heard of him) and the text read 'goodnight'! I immediately started bludgeoning him with questions, as to who he is, why is he smsing so late at night and why on earth is he saying goodnight. My husband tried to laugh it off saying he must have messaged by mistake, it was meant for Sayan's girlfriend. Somehow i wasn't convinced i asked him to message back and ask why the guy messaged in the first place. To which the next text was more deadly, it read, 'dilam chumu jao ghumu' (give you a kiss, now go off to sleep) I simply sat up in bed by that time having lost all traces of sleepiness. And made my husband call him up finally. Then we were all laughing together at our insecurities... but the truth remains that in today's world even in jest women fear losing their husbands more to men rather than women. But then the time's are strange!

high tea

Getting off work early is something so rare in advertising... so the day i did, i marvelled at the world outside. I have almost forgotten what the streets look like at 5 30 pm. What the colour of the sky is on working days. How many people travel homeward on park street, how the cafes welcome dusk, how lovers/college goers cozy up with cups of coffee, how the demand for puchka rises, how the hoardings light up and the city goes into a different mode altogether.

anyway, i had to do my weekly grocery so i stepped into Spencer's and couldn't for the life of me find a certain variety of 'saag' and out of sheer embarrassment couldn't ask anyone! a married woman can't identify vegetables. what could be worse. SO i bought the rest of the stuff on my list and walked home balancing two heavy bags.

But this feeling of incompetence changed once i stepped inside, i dropped my keys off where they belonged, shoved the veggies in the fridge and settle down on my favourite spot with a steaming cup of Castleton tea and a chocolate pastry from flurry's. Completely at leisure i felt good about life. I for once tasted independence and it felt great. I was sitting in my apartment, i pay for it too, enjoying things I've bought with my own money and watching the TV that i purchased with my salary. I never felt like this when i stayed with mom, there though everything was mine but i had done nothing to earn it. There was a strange sense of satisfaction here, the little i have made out of life with sheer hard work made me feel so proud. From a girl with a completely sheltered life i have come a long way. And having felt good i lapsed lazily back into my musings as the aromatic taste of the perfectly blended tea worked like an elixir on me. So raising a toast to independence and married life, i said to myself...'what a wonderful world!'

As i have turned 27 few days back i just wanna run through a mental checklist of things I've been able to achieve in the past growing up year.

1. make a slave outa my husband. check
2. nurture my evil side. check check
3. do something outa character like 'be nice'. check
4. Practice subtle sarcasm people don't get. check
5. laugh in the face of fear, getting married that is. check check
6. make my husband feel guilty enough to manipulate him. check
7. visit and exotic holiday destination. check
8. not pay for it. check

Now am feeling a lot better about being so much older!!