to be master of your craft, stop pursuing it

our cook is was no cook at all.
she was clueless about the basics. let's just say she didn't know the basics. she would cook on high-flame not let the meat and the vegetables cook through.she would always, char the vegetables, always as a rule over spice or under spice the meats. etcetera. why did i still have her? she is an extremely nice woman. she is honest. her timings worked for me perfectly. and because i like to cook. while i didn't get around salvaging her culinary disasters, but when i really felt like eating something, i knew i could cook that myself. so, she barely managed the everyday routine meals, for the rest i micro-managed her or cooked it all myself.
and then she took a month off. a month became two. and then two and a half. we began to relish the stuff, the substitute cook made. though her timing were pretty hard for me.close to the graveyard shift. and she would come for just 45 mins a day. so often i had to do most of the cooking. and that sucked the joy out my kitchen time. so, when  finally my regular cook got back, i welcomed her. while i was happy to see her, the realization that we were back to eating the part-charred-part-raw stuff hit me.
but luckily weekday mornings don't leave me with much time to dwell over the contents of my lunch box.

but with the lunch time approaching, i dreaded opening my lunch box :-| when opening in front of a very hungry lot of colleagues. my maid-made rotis had laugh-of-the-day potential. they were pretty infamous in these parts. and then like all stories with happy endings - my lunch box revealed the perfect egg curry and the near perfect soft rotis [flat breads]. no less than a miracle.
next morning she arrived. she walked tall with a new confidence i hadn't noticed previously. not wanting to make a big deal about her sudden prowess in the kitchen, i casually asked her if she had been cooking a lot when away. she looked at me, and said "no i didn't even make tea during the whole time. all i did was sit with my sisters and my mother in the kitchen and watch them as they cooked my favorite things."
huh? yeah, i saw things perfectly now. she picked up nuances, the delicate details by relishing the flavors and by watching, a whole lot of watching in the kitchen.
a vacation is in order perhaps,  a vacation with neil french, hegarty and abbott.

CC: See? See?!!!

I have been working for years. Long enough to figure out most things corporate, I mean things as corporate as it can be in an advertising agency. Okay, before I proceed, there are a few facts you need to know about my work life - I am yet to own a formal white shirt or a blue or a grey one. I haven’t ever worn a formal trouser in my life – no not even for the interviews. I’d like to believe I am way to cool for office politics, but I guess in reality I am just plain lazy, let’s just say it’s not my thing. Also, I do not suck up to people. And, I’d like to believe I am super hard-working – like – boy! Can she work and I am easy to work with and I am kind of funny [I sure hope this is for real and not bordering on the ‘I’d like to believe’ space]... Now, onto the things that need work: I cannot do PPTs - I don’t know the basic stuff (hush hush okay?). And I am not proactive, I will explain this one, while I am not the one to miss deadlines, or shy away from speaking in meetings, I am the kind that would not be up and ready to gather people and start something fun on a slow Friday afternoon. I am not the one who would walk up to the HR and help plan for a workshop. I am not the one to raise my hand to ‘so who wants to volunteer to paint the workplace in wacky colours’. I am also not the one to actively participate in Terrific Thursdays or Fantastic Fridays. Of course often I just go with it and do it anyways, but doing anyway isn’t exactly proactive. And that pretty much sums up my work life personality type.

Not quite. I have been CC ignorant. Shocking, I know.

Turns out I’ve forever belittled CC. Oh yeah! How dare I, right? After having been educated by a good colleague of CC’s not so hidden powers, I feel cheated. How could I have not seen it? How could I have not known CC screams See? See?
See? See? I worked late
See? See? I worked over the weekend
See? See? I did the work that I wasn’t supposed to
See? See? I helped the work-shy over-paid colleague
See? See? I did the whole ppt content in a word doc, she just jazzed it up
See? See? I have contact in the right places
See? See? I have been doing my job
See? See? I have been doing much more than my job
See? See? I am no naïve dumbbell who doesn’t know the rules of the outlook jungle.
CC: here I come.  

the first day jitters and blushes

no-haggle ride to first day at work: hundred and ten bucks.

hurried breakfast-on-the go: 60 bucks

casual yet formal ethnic wear from anokhi for that first impression: 1600 bucks

dkny watch to add just the right amount of chicness: 10000 bucks

last minute tea to calm the edgy nerves: 6 bucks

being mistaken for an intern: priceless

of goodbyes, bookmarks, a d-drive and untimely tears

this monday was my last day at work in my now previous organization. the incredible amount of work made sure, the day-long nostalgia was skipped, so was the oh-my-goodness-i-can't-believe-i-am-going/ oh-remember-the-nights-out-for-that-campaign conversations. which was, i think both good and bad. there were no all-engulfing emotions, it was just another day. nothing that i will think about, misty eyed. but i'll sure miss the place. i will miss the spectacular view from one of our office corners. the view of the lake and at night, the gorgeous lights around it. the lunch place, the particular chair that i would often sit on. the door to the conference room, the one in which i always entered fifteen minutes late. i will miss my colleagues. the constant banter. the really creative nicknames that we have had (hush, hush).

and while i was still working and chasing a deadline, goodbyes and good-lucks were being said, all of a sudden, the thought that my files and folders in my d-drive won't be mine anymore hit me. i looked at the bookmarks [collected over the years], links that i consider a true treasure trove. and i was suddenly very, very sad. i was feeling sick. tears were involved. out of nowhere there were ample D-drive-triggered tears. hey there psychoanalyst so what do these D-drive-triggered tears say about me and my emotions or the lack of it?

yes, bookmarks made me cry. so did yellow folders in my d-drive. they are like yellow rooms, don't you think? get inside, and you will find some are clumsy, while some all neat and structured. some unopened for months. and some empty.

Love what you do, do what you love. Huh? Sorry, come again?

This whole 'following your dreams' concept is a very recent one no? The fact that something, which pays your bills is got to be fun, is something you and I wouldn't be able to reason with our fathers. It's work, they would say, the rule is simple, when you gotta work, you gotta work. If you are good at something [the very reason why you have the job], you keep the job, you do the job.
But then unfortunately we were introduced to doing what you love, loving what you do. Like you must, must have fun at work, like the work place owes it to you. The picture[via huffingtonpost.com] above is hardly the invigorating fun job. But the women are smiling? What's with that? They don't look miffed, they are happy. Filing mail orders, for days and years. Are our expectations from our day job absurd? Yes, enough has been said about one excelling at a certain thing only when he enjoys it, has fun at it. But that's not possible, not sustainable. Even a painter has to sell his most treasured art. And selling would involve haggling. And haggling is not cool.

Note to self: The age of advertising being the most fun you can have with your clothes on, is seriously over.

Getting people to buy stuff they don't need with the money they don't have.

Hello Clients, Account executives,

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nullam vehicula pellentesque ultricies. Pellentesque vel tellus magna. Maecenas consequat, nisl eu convallis fermentum, mauris velit tincidunt tortor, quis vulputate lectus orci et quam. Curabitur dapibus tincidunt tortor sit amet malesuada. Proin rutrum nulla et justo pellentesque non porttitor purus tincidunt. Suspendisse potenti. Donec laoreet lorem sed arcu consectetur at aliquet lacus adipiscing. In quis dolor orci. Phasellus ornare aliquet nibh accumsan gravida. Integer id nisi eget sapien commodo consectetur. Fusce semper molestie vehicula.
Donec congue felis eu est eleifend ut fermentum mauris scelerisque. Donec gravida, dui quis lacinia volutpat, neque metus mollis ante, vel pretium turpis mi quis dolor. Aenean orci velit, fermentum vel tempus id, tempor a nulla. Suspendisse eleifend porta purus eu pharetra. Nunc vestibulum eros sit amet ipsum consectetur quis tempus orci condimentum. Sed viverra nulla vel arcu iaculis molestie. Curabitur at eros sed nisi pulvinar accumsan. Aliquam rhoncus, nisi ut sagittis elementum, neque libero vestibulum eros, a facilisis metus velit a justo. Ut ut nulla ante, vitae feugiat est. Proin in est erat, vel consectetur libero. In lectus enim, facilisis ut ullamcorper a, vehicula eget lacus. Quisque egestas orci justo, ac faucibus sem. Nulla laoreet convallis ullamcorper. Sed congue condimentum mauris, vel suscipit diam vehicula vitae. Duis convallis mattis auctor.

Garbage in – Garbage out. How hard is it to understand that? Clients, why not tell us the REAL date of your product launch, how can it be 1st of next month when you are yet to start operations in this city? When you are yet to hire a team? Why not tell us who you are actually targeting at? How can your TG be everyone from Parvathy R. Kutty, part time teacher, mother of two, wife of Insurance seller from Vanandurai to nineteen year old NIFtian, aspiring bridal lingerie designer from GK? Huh?
And Account Executives/Managers could you speak up please? When I say speak up, I don't mean you asking us for 7 headline options or asking the client for money [which you do very well, and yes of course this is why you and I are around], but while you are at it, can you not tell the client, 3 campaigns by tomorrow evening is not possible. That google images isn't his property, that one more bullet point and the ad will burst. That the consumer doesn't give a dang about his vision? And, and could you please write a brief? It's important, non?

n.b. this is my 100th post. quite a feat, considering my attention span.

It's everything I had imagined it to be

And before your mouth goes :-O, the 'it' above isn't a Cannes Lion. But it is – my first advertising award. And God it feels good. Like I said, the award is everything I had imagined it to be.
Not expecting it one bit. Check.
Heart Rate 220. Check.
Knees-going-weak while accepting it. Check.
Not remembering the name or the face of the gentleman who gave it to me. Check.
Looking at the camera and giggling like an idiot. Check.
Going numb once back to my seat. Check.
Staying numb for rest of the evening. Check.
Looking for eyes looking at me, but finding none. Check.
Discovering the Monday after to be as blue. Check.

Have I made it large?

I used to eat paneer now it's Tofu.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

It used to be levi's, now guess does it for me for me.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I used to jog in the park; now it's power yoga on my fuchsia yoga mat.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I knew cabbage was green; then i discovered purple.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I used to eat capsicums; then i got introduced to bell peppers.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I used to haggle with the auto walas; now I don't.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I used to hate spending 18 bucks on onions, now I am okay with 55.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

I used to pluck guavas from the tree, now i have ones with barcodes on them.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

It used to sabzi mandi every sunday; now it's ruci and idoni.
But I ask myself, have I made it large?

Guess you get the drift, I absolutely hate seagram's newest ad, the one featuring Sail Ali Khan and the other with Gautam Gambhir. It's so, so tacky. OMG and those lines. I cringe every time I watch it. you have to watch the tvc, to see what i mean. pretentious junk. and being born at Pataudi estate to Mansoor Pataudi Ali Khan and Sharmila Tagore isn't exactly our idea of starting small.

Dear Gautam, you are a prolific opening batsman, and Saifoooo, you have a lovely girlfriend, but doing that ad, and saying those lines, you have failed to make it large.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

[This place looks like a typo-free zone to me.]


Believe you me, I tried to make a post of it right after it happened but just couldn’t. Typographical errors often do that to me. They numb me. They render me incapable of doing the only thing I know [or so I think] well.

On the first day of my job, my boss told me it would help me if I were paranoid. Which I was. But then as days go by, I forgot my lessons and the ignominy that follows.

This recent typo episode wasn’t even a typo. As in it wasn’t a spelling mistake nor was it a grammatical error. You could say it was trivial. But it was big enough for the client to call up the account executive and ask for an explanation. So, a typo it was. And I once again pledged to never walk that path again. To be afraid, very afraid.

Because it feels right.

Advertising is perhaps one of the most intangible commercial arts around. Or so i would like to believe. While, after a given period of time, you kind of figure out what works and what doesn't; but first time round it's always the gut feeling isn't it, the 'it felt right' stuff. Creative team's bete noires, the servicing and the business development team, with their oh-too-many B-school rationales always manage to outweigh the 'feels right' approach.

Now, how as a clueless copywriter do I go about rationalizing that? If you are the chairman of starbucks, you don't need to. Starbucks outlets in New York, house New York Times but not USA Today, why? Because the chairman feels right about New York Times. A coffee concoction gets a go ahead, only if the chairman or some hotshot at starbucks likes it. How's that for research?

As I ain't that lucky, I must find ways to come up with a rationale for why it feels good. I am reading up stuff, knowing the necessary terms and the all important jargons, just so I can protect my baby. On a totally different note, I really hate this term, gets me a lot of unpleasant memories you know, stuff like, “this campaign is your baby (read.. you will be responsible for any screw up)”.. However, anything for my baby. :D :D


nb - why do i have these hummer ads in here? because i like it. :) and, and because it's my space.
Oh yeah, i got to have my own agency. yep i do.

So much for advertising being the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Yeah for that guy who created vodafone's newest busy message tvc, advertising is sure a lot of fun. Not for me. Creativity, kick-ass assignment, loving my job, oh-it-feels-like-a-paid-vacation, etcetera be damned.

I am just an ordinary girl asking for just another ordinary job. (cheesy i know, but c'mon i am having a lousy day)

I'm feeling lucky!

Yep, I am. And no this isn't about one of those tear jerker forwards that we haven't stopped receiving or forwarding, those that wish us enough, ask us to find happiness in that morning cuppa and believe in angels.

I am feeling incredibly lucky, for getting to do what I do. It's a different kind of Monday today. Imagine having to read Nat Geo archives, imagine spending hours searching for the perfect sunset shot, imagine thinking for hours, about that perfect holiday destination, imagine having to google up romance, dream destinations, enchanting, camping trips, perfect holidays; imagine spending 4 hours reading travel blogs. Imagine having to imagine all things nice and pretty. All in a day's work. Ahh... Sweet.

And I get to do all these, while not being a poet, author, photographer or a really rich man's wifey. So, ain't i lucky?



n.b. my only wish now, is to sit in that terrace and go about my work.

Don't you do that to me.

Last time I felt so let down was when I had my first slice of pizza. It was hardly as cheesy, as crusty, as divine, as whatever as I was promised it would be. However, this time round I feel utterly crushed, cheated and very sad on a whole, perhaps because of the time and patience that went into it.

I've very recently learnt that my power point presentations aren't really going to get me anywhere. A shame, since I've really perfected my PPT skills over the years. I am now what you call quite a pro at it. After being bullied by my superiors and other PPT pros for not having propah skills, I made sure it was at the tippy top of my must do lists.

And now, nothing has changed for me. No corner room, no 30 per cent hike, no paid vacations. Just a 'good job' at the end of each of those fancy presentations, c'mon that wouldn't suffice. Whatever happened to that promise that I will be in a different league altogether? That the way I look at things and the way the world looks at me, will change. What happened?

A bad concept still needs a rework, a boring headline still sucks; a pretty slide, I've realized, does nothing for it. Damn it.

They made you go Awww... but will the zoozoos make you spend?

I love them. All of them. Super creative, brilliant execution, so, so adorable. They are everywhere, and everyone's talking about them. But the point is will you press those numbers that they ask you to and get dating tips, prayer songs, beauty alerts, stock information, etcetera? Or if you are not a Vodafone customer, will you become one, enticed by their array of services?

While these cute egg headed white humanoids have of course taken care of the Branding and the buzz, what about the figures? Will this one and a half month long (during the IPL period) campaign make an impact on Vodafone's targets? Given the fact that, Vodafone is already big and known for its creative concepts and branding initiatives, what's the point? More so, at a time like this, When most brand managers everywhere (at least where I am, they are) are freezing ad spends. Maybe this is aggressive marketing after all. Maybe this is what works. But aren't we all discussing how cute these ads are and how smart their advertising guys (O&M) are. What's the ROI, I am thinking.

Dunno. Maybe it's too much to decipher for an obscure copywriter from an obscure advertising agency.

However, Zoozoo xoxo.

The Zoya Factor... Awwww!

What do you do when you are closer to 30 than to 16, yet want to read a Mills & Boon? You pick up The Zoya Factor by Anuja Chauhan.

I quite liked The Zoya Factor.

Because the author is the creative director at JWT, I aspire to be her someday - a creative head at a hip agency with a lofty book contract for a chick-lit novella. Nice.

Because the protagonist works in an advertising agency, a story of a believable world, so what if, I have never written a TVC script with Sharukh Khan in it or am not on a first name basis with the India's cricket team? Advertising agency it is.

Because I am a sucker for all things mush., not over the top kind, but the ones that make you go all awwww and weak in the knees ... The Zoya Factor has many moments of it.

And mostly because the language is – very every day, very chic, very conversational. A tad too conversational maybe.

The details, were completely taken care of... the scene describing Zoya's garden, the drab clothes she goes to bed in... the typical Sunday feast at home, the creative & client servicing meetings, etcetera.

The only bit I did not like was the author's liberal use of 'Hello', almost every page would have a sentence like – 'Hello, like the Indian Team's skipper visited my suite everyday.' Then there would be one more in the next paragraph, 'Hello, you were the one who invited me', 'Hello, I am not exactly looking my best today' etcetera. Nothing wrong with 'hello' just that, it reminded me of someone who talks that way, and whom I am not particularly fond of.

So, if you are a woman and do not exactly hate cricket, chances are, you will enjoy The Zoya Factor.

Perhaps, scams are all I want to be left with.

To show my grand kids and tell 'em, "look your thamma created this Volkswagen ad."
"Awww thamma, you are soooo cool," they would scream, hugging me.

I am cool with scam ads. Of all kinds - published just once in some obscure journal, never published, went to the client but got rejected, never went to the client, whatever.

What's wrong with creating ads that clients don't buy, they don't have to like everything. What's wrong with creating ads just for the awards? Why can't we sometimes, only sometimes, just forget the target audience? Why can't we create ads just to win awards? Why can't we create ads for pure pleasure?

Having said that, I know ideally we got to strike a balance between being arty and being good for the business. But then, what's the guarantee that our clients are right all the time. They have bad days at work too, bad budgets, or plain bad taste. However, why should that decide the fate of the ad, that probably could have won some award, seen by a few thousand people, fetched me a few minutes of fame and a hike.

With the kind of clients, the kind of work, the deadlines, the shrinking budgets and other unfavourable conditions that we have to deal with everyday, scams reassure us that our sensibilities are still in place. That we aren't in the wrong profession after all. That there's hope.

Scam ads are what make my portfolio happy, not those that made my client smile. By the way, the picture above, is my favourite scam (sadly, never went to the client). Bring on the scams, I say, hoping Cannes will introduce a 'Best Scam of the Year' someday.

The morning after...

a typo is very bad...
It's a very bad feeling. A combination of feelings actually, extreme grief, denial, anger, damn-you, how-could-I, I-am-no-good, this-ain't-the- end-of-the-world, or-maybe-it is, etcetera. The world's suddenly not a pretty place anymore, everything ceases to matter and all you are left with is a crazy sick feeling.
Needless to say, I do everything to avoid a copy error – check the ad or any copy based deliverable until my eyes hurt, until the account executive snatches it away from me, until the art director threatens me with his I've-had-enough look, or until I decide to not care enough about my job. Most often, none of these happen, and I go on checking every word, like a maniac.

Yet, there's no sure-fire way to avoid a typographical error. Just when you think you are absolutely certain about the headline, the subhead, the bodycopy... you have screwed up the address, or the baseline in the logo. And likewise.
I remember every major copy mistake I've ever made. When I say major, I mean, a mistake that cost my agency a lot of money/cost my client a lot of money/cost my agency the client/almost cost me my job.

It's a weired feeling that refuses to go, nothing helps, not even hours of retail therapy, not even a comforting never-mind-that-sweety mail from a friend, or a it's-okay-let's-learn-from-mistakes mail from the boss. Only thing that gets that horrid feeling out, is the next piece of copy that you write, the perfect copy. The typo free copy.

And all will be well again.

On Mondays, I often think of becoming a full-time cook, a smalltime author, an expert on Andy Warhol, a professional kitsch collector, etcetera.

Mondays are plain sad. And I always thought Archies over hyped their 'Monday Blues' section. But isn't their effort so pointless? They haven't got the demographics right, I can't think of any working adult, who would feel better receiving a witty card on a Monday morning. A piece of chocolate cake? maybe, a movie ticket? yes, Shoppers Stop gift coupons? most certainly; but a witty card? No way.

Yeah... It's just another manic Monday.

The first post

I am not very deep. I mean I am normal, I work to pay my bills, I love to shop, travel, read, eat and I have body issues. So, why would I want to write a blog? More so, why would I want people to know about my oh-so-everyday life, errr... I would want to. Everybody is doing it, so will I.

And I have some reasons to –

One. I am in advertising (the 'most fun you can have with your clothes on' job). So I assume, I'll have some interesting things to write about.

Two. I'll soon have a new camera. So, want a space for the photos that I click. And no, web album is not an option.

Three. I am a copywriter you see, I got to write.

Four. Greed. I've been reading about many blogs being published into books.

Reasons too many, I'd say.