Monday, January 30, 2006

twenty eight men saw my panties

This is the best part of advertising. You learn what headline will make your reader curious enough to want to go ahead and read your copy. No but really, twenty eight men did see my panties. That was no joke.

I went for a workshop for the weekend. It was called Jazzvertising. It basically combined and compared jazz as a school of music and advertising. There were three men conducting it, all of whom played instruments, and played them bloody well too. They made the whole weekend so interesting, I was thoroughly excited through out.

We left work at about four in the evening and we reached this business school (where the workshop was being held) at about eight thirty. This is not because it’s far, but because we kept stopping to eat, to pee, to drink and finally we got lost.

When we did find the place, we were taken from the main gate to the business school, about 2km away, on a bullock cart. No wait, a speeding psychotic bullock cart! It was awesome. They handed us keys to our rooms and a letter saying that they hoped that the next two days would be as invigorating as the ride on the manic cart. I hoped so too.

That night we made friends with some other people from other agencies and also with some of the students. We kinda were the only highly enthusiastic people around… But with me that is virtually always the case. We didn’t stay up too late, slept by 1am. This is because our letter also said that there would be an amazing geo-physiological event at precisely 8:58am the next morning, and it would be in our best interest not to miss it, especially since it happens once every seven odd years. Lies!

The next morning, I and my equally enthused colleagues woke bright and early. When nothing happened at 8:59, I knew it. The amazing phenomenon was that they managed to fool advertising professionals into getting up that early, when we don’t do it even to go for a client meeting.

The days were good, the food was yum and the nights were awesome. We had a bonfire and a weird chant that by the end of it sounded like a Christmas carol. I made some friends, I met some people. I did weird things, I sang, I played dog and the bone and I enacted a cheap Bollywood movie and a sleazy love scene (me and a guy making sounds and stomping on a wooden stage while taking off our jackets and throwing them at the audience)

Also, the whole workshop saw my panties. We had to get women’s panties as a prop for one of the exercises. The only other girl in my group had bad ones. So mine were flaunted and paraded. But they were yummy orange ones. So I didn’t mind much. All in all, the weekend was fun and I think it was a super and very much needed break from the crap going on at work and Bombay.

So, what pearls of wisdom did I take from the weekend? What advertising gems did I discover? What did I learn? I can honestly and very happily say:

Absolutely nothing.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

self obsessed

I got a call from Frankfurt airport. I couldn't stop smiling. And my day was going so well. I felt happiness. Then I realised that I am not going to see him for a while. And I was sad again.

Then I got online. And my ex was on line. We spoke and I told him about how I met someone after 14 years. Then he tells me, as a by the way in the conversation, that he is seeing someone.

Ain't that a kick in the head? For a few minutes I hurt all over. We have had conversations before about this, he'd ask me if there was anyone I was seeing and I would ask him, the answer was always "no" from him, and "i've been on a date, nothing special." from me.

What hurts is that he didn't tell me about it. I think I deserved to be told in a better way. I am over him, i think. I mean it's been too long for me to think about it. Almost two years apart. He is still a great friend and will always be. I would do anything for him.

I think it was more of an ego issue. It's always about me anyway.

Why not me first?

drowning in a daydream

This last week has been awesome. There are so many words to describe what I am feeling right now. They are all swirling in my head. But none of them seem to be surfacing. Because of which I have been speechlessly happy from last Tuesday onwards.

Yes, I am talking about my long time crush, my bunch of grapes (that’s what he was for a fancy dress competition in school, I was a sweet – how intensely lame we were.. no wait, I think I still am..)

I met him practically everyday. We went shopping. He bargains like he’s been doing it all his life. And it was super to see the pure triumph on his face when he got things for hundreds less than the original.

He bought me a bracelet and then had it engraved. And he made me a pendant that will forever be my favourite accessory. But the best was the song. I love the song. No one has ever bothered to take time out to rhyme for me. He sang it to me too. I have never had anyone who sang for me. The one line I love – and the only line I am going to share is: “The little boy, who is now a man, becomes a little boy when he holds your hand” - The song is pretty darn good, according to him...hahaha.. modesty is not a strong virtue with him.. i loooovvve it.

I went to meet him on the evening he was leaving. He needed to get some last minute things done, so I followed him around doing that. Then we went for an annual get together of his aunt’s colony, the place he was staying. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I probably needed to absorb all I could.

He reached me to a rickshaw, I needed to go back home. As my rickshaw moved away, I sunk deeper into pain. Have you ever had something that you never wanted to let go of but you had to, not by choice but by circumstance? It could be a toy, a book, a picture or, in my case, a person.

I am stunned. It seems like some intensely real daydream I had. I will miss the constant jokes and the laughs, the rickshaw rides, the winks, the train to Bandra, the hand holding, the fun, the warmth, the comfort and the looks. I will miss his smile. Damn I wish I was looking at it right now…

Brightside? I am going to keep in touch with him. And if, after 14 years, he is back in my life, it is for a reason (can’t wait to find out what that reason is)

I have a new old friend. We had a past. We have a present. Now what we have in the future, remains to be seen. But I know it will be gooood.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Today I walked into the office with a smile on my face singing, 'Soak up the Sun' by Sheryl Crowe. There was a reason I was beaming ear to ear. I met the guy I had a crush on when I was ten, after about 14 years. I'm still a little stunned. Still a little jittery. I can't stop the smiles.

It was a boring Monday and I was sitting with my art partner thinking about some ad that we needed to do, when my phone rang. I thought it was one of those stupid BPL service provider people who constantly harass you at odd hours during the day. So I pick up the phone, sounding slightly disgruntled. And he mumbles in an accent saying he doesn't know if I would remember him, it's been about fourteen years, he was a friend from school. When he said his name I almost fell off my chair.

I never thought I would see him again. He's only down for one week and then he is back to Chicago. I had a huge crush on him. He did too. It's the stuff movies are made of. It's like if Kevin met Winnie after fourteen years, when they are 24 and talk fondly about the Wonder Years. Ok, not that dramatic, but very close.

He remembers this one picnic we went for as a class. I was holding on the railing of the bus and he was walking to the end of the bus, when it jerked forward. His hand was on my hand for about fifteen seconds. And apparently we both stared at each other and then he ran to his mum, who was a substitute teacher.

I don't ever remember talking to him. But I remember one night when my parents invited his whole family, just before they left for Chicago to our house. And we were standing in my 7th floor balcony, and he gave me a flower (he confessed yesterday that he picked it for my garden)

For a birthday of mine, he gave me a Santa Clause bag. I still have that bag, it's in the same wrapping paper. According to him, all I did at his birthday parties was come and eat his cake and leave. And he wished that I would just talk to him. I told him, that every time I tried, he ran to his mom. He said, when he is nervous he sometimes still does that.

We met yesterday. I called him and told him that I was standing at the ticket counter, he said he was walking toward there.
I can't see you. Neither can I. Where are you again? The ticket counter. Wait I see you, is that you? Yes.

Big smiles. Big hugs. Fourteen years melt away.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

ring out the new (before i wring her neck)

So, basically I hate the management of seating arrangements in my office. Cause this guy I kinda have the hots for was sitting so far away from me... but (at his request) he finally came to sit just a desk away from me, so now every time I turn around, I see his butt... bending to write something on the comp, or print something... and oh and what a butt it is... it deserves to be a national treasure... to be protected and honoured... JLo be hanged!

Anyway that is not the point. Everything was A-ok when it was just me turning to take a peek.
Now this damned HR person has put a hot little, bubbly little, oh-so-friendly little Bi... errm... management trainee right next to him. Resulting in me catching a glimpse of flirting everytime I look behind.
She is from UK. She is thin. She is friendly. She's got nice hair. She's got a big smile.
But more than anything, She is new.

What is with men and new women?

They see a prospect, and their eyes light up for the kill. Suddenly they have a reason to wake up and put on that extra dab of cologne and get to office, only to be greeted by the smile of the new girl. They suddenly get overly friendly themselves, asking her to have lunch with them, asking her what she does for fun and giving her "tips" on how to survive in the agency....

This is not only at work. This is at parties too. I remember this one party we had with my ex agency colleagues... A new addition, one guys prospective girlfriend crashed the party... She wore a short black top and low rise brown courdroys... she got herself an entire beer bottle, she danced alone because she did not know anyone... And by the end of the night she had most of the guys drooling over her... getting her dinner, concerning themselves about how she will get home... and talking about her after she left. She was new. She never came to another party. They finally stopped asking where she was.

Men want to get to the new woman. It's not that they want to marry them, or even have a realtionship with these girls. It's just the thrill of being seen by your buddies.

Chatting up the new girl maketh thee a ladies man.

And what man doesn't want to be a ladies man?

The ladies man then walks up to the group of his colleagues. They give the usual, you-sly-dog looks and back slaps, ladies man confidently says, comeon... she's just a friend... And if he is truly a ladies man, he'll follow that sentence with a comment like... but not for long eh... At which the pack breaks into howls of laughter.

Anyway, enough with the anthropology lecture. There he is, my ladies man. He is putting on cologne. He is bending again, but not in my direction, he is competing for attention with the other guys around. He is telling her where her boss sits.
He has asked her to eat lunch with us.

I'm in the background. I watch the peacock dance.
My heart breaks. My blood boils. My head spins.

I over hear her saying she can't cause she has plans to go out for lunch. She passes my desk and squeeks a bubbly "bye, see you later", I fake a big smile. I do it well.

I sit at my comp, and pretend not to notice him behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently squeezes, asks me what's wrong, and tells me to come and eat lunch. I say fine.

I let him lead the way... only so I can stare at the national treasure again.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

twinkles mc mini

I happened upon a site that has a whole list of really cute quizzes and stuff that people could put on their blog or just have for fun... FYI - my elf name is Twinkles Mc Mini... ain't that just so cute.. and virtually pointless to my existance?
Hey.. sometimes we all just gotta do something fun and something that won't eventually make a difference to our lives...
Why not take a couple of quizzes yourself?

Find out how Machiavellian you are....

Find out if you have ever been a pure kisser...

And to wind things up.. find out what your name would be if you ever were an elf (or even a super hero..)

have fun
be pointless


I love catholic weddings.

They have a certain energy and exuberance that other weddings don’t usually have. Everyone just gets into the celebration mood. It’s just pure fun.

So I went for a wedding this Sunday. I wore my sexy black Ramanika designer top and black pants. To me I looked alright, nothing special. But I must say.. Whatever I did, I was doing it right.. Cause I was raking in the compliments dahlings!! Yaayayayayayayayayaya!!!!

So I walked in and I found a old friend from college, so she took me straight to the dance floor and got me some wine. It was an indoor thing, so I was freezing in the air-conditioner. I walked with her to a group of guys and girls… I told her “Man, I am so cold!” someone behind me said... “No, you’re soo hot!”. I turned it was another old friend. We did the whole, “you-look-great, you’ve-lost-weight” thing.

Then his friend asked me to dance. I accepted. While on the dance floor, the brides uncle came up to me and said, “every time I see you, you look lovelier.” My dance partner asked if this was true. I said I wouldn’t know. He said he would have to find out for himself then. YAyayayayayay!!!

Anyway to add to this, we have this tradition where the girls circle the bride and she throws the bouquet, the girl who catches it is supposed to get married next. After this happens, the groom takes off his brides garter and throws it to the circling bachelors. The then girl that catches the flowers and the boy that catches the garter, dance on a slow mushy song.
I caught the bouquet. I was stunned.
When I caught it, one of the guys came up to me and said, "since you caught it I am going to join the bachelors!" Yayyayayaayyaaa!!
Long story short, some weird guy caught it and as soon as he was told he has to dance with me he told me he was engaged and so I led him to his fiancé and made her dance with him.

Some guy asked me to dance and as I was dancing, this other guy who was also dancing, from over his partners head (these boys have guts) mouthed the words, “you have beautiful eyes!” Flattered, I mouthed “thank you”. Then the same guy, deposited off his partner at the table and asked me to dance. Super! Yayaayayayayyayayayayaaa!!

So essentially my night was made because I was surrounded by very cute, single and Catholic boys ;-)) this does not often happen. Plus I was flattered more than once with compliments I don’t often receive.

I think I have exhausted my quota of compliments for the year 2006. So maybe the rest of the year I have to make do with thoughts of the compliments at this catholic wedding.

But damn. What a night. yayayayayayya!!

Thursday, January 05, 2006


People I have noticed. Things I have seen.
Written about for lack of better things to do:


Middle-aged and awkward, she wore an outdated suit design. Her wrinkled face anxious to get off the crawling bus, she awaited her stop.

Sitting upright at the edge of her seat as if she was being watched – twiddling thumbs, checking her lipstick.

A smear of red lipstick carelessly pinched on her cheek.

Makeshift rouge. Makeshift life.

Desperately aware of her own inadequacies.


Instantly disliked.

She is fair and fat, stuffing herself with pop corn, the colour of her salwar-kameez, not stopping even for a breath.

She finishes her snack, she gulps down her drink. She crushes the cup and the packet together. They are carelessly flung outside the moving train. Perhaps this is what she does to people after she has got what she wanted from them?

Instantly judged.


Thin, wry, almost emancipated. She squeezes herself into the three inches of seat left after three fat women have had their share.

Checks her sari, her bindi and in checking, displaces the latter with a hasty rub – the stickiness forsaken by the salty sweat of a long day. She buys five bars of chocolate for fifty rupees. I know she is not the recipient of these tasty treats. The bars are as thick as her arms.

She barely exists – each day traveling to work, looking after ungrateful children and a worse husband.
Doing it to support women’s liberation, knowing none of her own.


From Jaipur:

Pigs eating garbage. Dogs chasing cars. An occasional calf suckling its mother under the shade of a pink parapit.

Inhale the cool morning air with a light whiff of stagnated dung and marble dust tickles your nose.

Palace ruins. Vandalism abound.
Stealing the gems from the precious walls of love.

Horse-drawn carriages and cycle rickshaws pulling along fatted pink tourists.
Camels basking, people baking in the sun.

Glorious Past.
Mindless Present.


I want more
I have always wanted more than I got.

When I was a child, I wanted more ice-cream on my chocolate cake. I wanted more birthday cake in my plate. I wanted more dolls. More crayons. More.

When I was in school I wanted more friends. I wanted more responsibilities. I wanted more challenges. More.

When I was in college I wanted more boys. I wanted more love. I wanted more clothes. I wanted more popularity.

I want more recognition. I want more than just a “good work” statement. I want more than just a kiss on the cheek. I want more than just a flirty glance. I want more than just one mail. I want more than a conversation on MSN. I want more than just a compliment about my eyes. I want more compliments.

I want more than only one ad released. I want more than just to work. I want more books. I want more things. More music. More clothes. More bags.

More love.

I have messed things up by wanting too much. I have ruined relationships by being too selfish. I have often put people on the spot asking for more than they could give.

For that I am sorry.


Wow. It’s been a while. Happy New Year people! I was in Pune for the coming of the New Year. I had a great time and I loved every minute of it. I only knew one person from the eleven people that were there. But I got along with them superbly.

My best gal and I decided that on the 31st of December, we are going to go out and look for some nice men. We didn’t want to be alone on New Year. Even if it lasted just till the next day… at least we would have someone to wish when the clock struck twelve. We didn’t. Instead when midnight came, I had to wish the guy standing behind me, who was, not to be rude, just blah. After which I tried making a call. He raised his eyebrows and asked wickedly who the ‘lucky guy’ was… I said my mother.

For that moment, the sixty seconds between midnight and 12:01 I felt intense loneliness.

My best gal came to me. She began to talk about her ex. Five years and she broke up with him. I spoke about mine. Three years, and just like that, it was over. We confessed we sometimes think we made a huge mistake by giving up something so solid.

Then a popular song played.

And we got up and danced until the loneliness, the pain, the guilt and the regret went away.