The End of an Era

I am going to give my last exam tomorrow.This marks the end of what has been a rather chequered 18 years of formal education.Tomorrow is Brand Management.In the spirit of things, I thought I'd mention 2 ads that really caught my eye watching another Indian victory today.

Pepsodent Whitening

I am not sure if this is a global template being applied, but to see my prospective employer break the Kid-Family-cho-chweet routine for one of its brands in an extremely well packaged effort is indeed heartening. The insight is brilliant in its simplicity.At last somebody realised that the temple of today's youth is none other than your ubiquitous coffee place round the corner.
No,we don't run around trees or strum guitar strings perenially in college.We might just try out the risky Mentos routine in class, but I haven't come across a guy who gets the sexually guttural "Yessirs" from all the girls in class as yet.
But what we do sir, and do it rather well, is drink coffee.Well, at least sit in these places.We meet old friends, make new ones, spend time alone, study, chat, play, in these new air-conditioned comfort zones of artifical lighting and bright colors.50 years down the line, when we reminisce about the good old days, I am betting my last 2 paisa that most of our memories will be entangled with coffee houses.The Pepsodent ad hits the nail on its head when defining the cool babe of today, for whom the coffee place is a second home, away from leering eyes of lusty pervs, the hot and dusty roads and the constant monitoring at home.
Good insight, refreshingly new style for the brand.

TVS Apache

This ad is so brilliant in communicating to its TG, that it almost makes you cry for not being the TG. As all of us take our last exam tomorrow, the ad hits even harder.
TVS has come up with a winner, and that too without a celebrity.The imagery is brilliant, the music very contemproary and the kids very,very smart looking.
Looks like for TVS, its going to be "Now" more than "Never", with Apache.
However, here's a thought worth its money in gold when I start consulting huge companies on their marketing strategies. Why not have a seperate prize called "Best Youth Performance in Match" and give away the Apache bike to the best performer under the age of 25 in every match? A few quotes from Sachin, about how he wished he was young enough to get the bike(he's their brand ambassdor for Victor) would make sure Apache is a roaring hit not only with the TG, but also with the aspiring group. Apache is an awesome effort from a company that seems to be on a roll with its ad campaigns with the "Dream big" series for Victor, a bike I personally own.Thumbs up from a satisfied customer. Talk about Post Purchase Customer delight.

My first exclusive

Ok, I am now officially kicked.
My first exclusive interview in a national daily.
No snippets, no quotes, no part of the story.
This time, I'm the story:)

http://epaperdaily.timesofindia.com/Daily/skins/TOI/navigator.asp?Daily=CAP&login=rpeednas

Go to the Education times, Delhi edition and an article called "Dream Job" on page 8 on the edition on 20th March.Of course. its got a lot of things wrong.

But what the hell, i'll take it anyways.

Blasphemy in Bombay!!!!!

It’s a sad day in Indian cricket. No…it’s a sad day for India. I can’t remember the last time I became emotional, but today my heart is in pain.
God got booed. In his own abode!!

Aaaahh, the mob…they can be unforgiving, can’t they?
Now the press will pick on Him. They have smelt the blood. They have sensed the mood of the nation. They will play along now. After a decade of orgasmic praise to Him, they have found new vents to their lust. Rahul’s the taste of the town right now. (he can’t make a wrong move, right? The same sluts who were calling for his exclusion when he could not understand the concept of those empty spaces called gaps in the field are now having sex with him. This too shall pass, Rahul. Coz sluts will be sluts.they will find othe clients)

But back to God. I know what everyone is saying. I can hear them whispering all round me. The infidels. The non-believers. They are gaining in number. They are finding support. Darkness has pervaded cricket and India.

Every man is allowed his irrationalities. This is mine. No, I cannot be objective about Sachin. I cannot stand criticism of my God, no matter how constructive it is .I can’t make a cold calculation about the number of runs scored in the last 10 matches.

Sachin rises above all that. He has made cricket what it is in India. Long before India was shining, he provided hope. To a nation confused, he was our messiah. To a country in flux, he was the constant. To a life in misery, he was the beacon of hope. In the maddening, changing 90’s, he was the silver lining. The standout performer, the angel who could do no wrong.
When the stock markets plummeted. When Harshad Mehta scammed India. When the Babri Masjid was brought down. When a million governments changed. When a sleepy farmer became prime minister. When dotcom went bust. When getting into Infy was a big thing. He stood tall. At 5 feet 5 inches.

When I was in my formative years. When I was a teenager. When I was giving my boards. When I doubted the system. When I wanted to rebel. When I was asking “why not” to everything. When my world was confusing

God made me believe. He was the constant. He would be there. He would perform. He would let the bat do the talking. He would get those breakthroughs with those magic dobblies. He couldn’t drop a catch. Ever. He wouldn’t sledge. He wouldn’t bat as much as eyelid when given out wrongly. He would be the perfect gentleman. He wouldn’t get involved in controversies (like Mahesh and Lee’s split, Sania’s comments, Dada’s striptease, Greg’s interviews, Salman’s driving, Sharukh’s sexuality, Aamir’s brooding,…) No, he wouldn’t sleep around. He wouldn’t lose his grounding. He wouldn’t let all the adulation go to His head.

To me, He is God.

Aaahh…this pain…who said I’m incapable of emotion? Today I weep for my hero, my belief system, my God. Today I’m sad. But my faith remains unshakeable. And I beseech Him to rise above this temporary state of stupor. To show these mortals a little bit of divinity.

I call out to all believers
Now is the time to stay strong. Now is the time to keep the faith. God will reincarnate. He will delight us all. He will score. Beautiful, Magnificient runs.

All the naysayers and infidels, you just wait till World Cup 2007.

You’ll see. You’ll all see!!!!!!

“You think you know who you are…You have no idea”.

When Matt Dillon says this, it doesn’t hit you as the central theme of the movie. But during the most poignant scene during the movie, when the supposedly neutral police officer covers up the murder of an innocent black man he just shot, it all comes to you like a blinding flash. This is what the makers of the movie “Crash” are trying to say.
Crash is scary. Because it’s very much possible. It not only paints a grim view of the darkest and softest underbelly of the world’s most powerful nation struggling to live up to the U in the USA, but also goes a step further. It paints it darker than it actually is.
Some might say it’s an exaggeration. But to me it will not be as much a movie on America as much as it would be a statement on what can be easily reality.
Crash is a movie that will come as an eye opener not only to people all round the world, but most importantly to thousands of Americans themselves who grow up in peaceful, prosperous, suburbs or quiet mid-west right wing conservative towns in America. To some, it may even come as a shock.
While the movie talks about the simmering differences on the boil in America, what’s scary about the movie is its application to any pluralistic society in the world. Pluralism is a term that has not been treated well so far. Is man innately pluralistic? Isn’t community formation the most natural form of living? Are we creating artificial pockets of urban melting pots and materialistic islands of pluralism that goes against the very grain of our ways of existence? Isn’t the need for identity stronger than anything else? What is it that made all Americans and the Brits look at brown as the new color of terror? Can you blame them for it?

But as an Indian, it makes you wonder what makes us tick. Maybe it’s our culture of tolerance. Maybe it’s our political incorrectness. Stereotypes are a celebrated part of our culture. How can a Sardar ever be portrayed as intelligent or a Tamilian fluent in Hindi? But what clearly comes through is that for a pluralistic society to survive everybody has to understand that deep down there’s a little bit of racism/casteism/regionalism in all us. Once an unofficial limit has been sanctioned by society, people can vent their normal levels of xenophobia in unobtrusive and non-violent ways instead of keeping it within for a long time that’s very dangerous.
America is a perfect case in point where its biggest failure has not been failure to curb intolerance. It has been the failure to identify a little xenophobia and stereotypes as human and allow for a certain measure of intolerance. Something must be right in the system that gives a Sikh Prime Minister, a Muslim President and a Catholic head of the ruling party. Compared to the White House, which hasn’t seen a non-white or a woman yet.

In India, nobody bothers to stop calling people from the Northeast “Chinkies” or South Indians “Illad”. And nobody bats an eyelid before making a joke on a Sardar all round the country. Or is banned from putting up to-let boards saying “Open only to Hindu Brahmins”. I’ve stayed in hostels where nicknames have ranged from “Bangali BC” to “Bihari Ch….”. to “Mallu MC”

Because in India “sab kuch chalta hai”. Political incorrectness and stereotyping is tolerated, and even acceptable to an extent. It’s ok to be asked your caste right after being introduced. It’s ok for my grandma to ask the maid not to come into to the tam bram kitchen. You’re not going to be put into jail for being racist because of this. You are not going to be slapped a lawsuit at the drop of a hat. Salman Khan will not be charged with a hate crime just because he ran down a Hindu. (its another matter that he may not be charged at all, but that’s another blog, ain’t it). And when someone in Delhi asks me in earnest puzzlement “Saauth mein to saare log kaale hote hain na .Yeh Rekha, Hema Malini or Aishwarya Rai itne gore kaise hain?”, I can’t help but smile. I know we still have a long way to go.
But I am not going to file a lawsuit. At least, not just yet.:)

Goa Redux

The rate at which the author seems to be packing off to Goa these days might suggest some rather interesting motivations, but I’m just in love with the place. And to compensate for all those I missed last time during the monsoon, this time, it was the beaches all through

Chapora

Easily has the best view in Goa, and perhaps the country. The actual place where Dil Chahta Hai was shot, quite contrary to any local guide whose first job to trick you into going to a particular beach (and therefore a particular restaurant-shack) is to mention that DCH was shot there, with practiced nonchalance. Sunset here is must-see-before-I-die experience. Simply breathtaking.

Ingos Saturday Night Bazaar

This is quite an experience. For the first time, I felt like a stranger in my own land. All around me had collected firangs from all over. It is also quite the place to find some young firangs as opposed to the usually almost-nude flabby 60+ lying-all-day-on-the beach- to-get-tanned elderly firang aunty. The flea market is a riot of colors and is replete with the daintiest, beautiful, exotic and most importantly, the most USELESS of things. Basically anyone can sell anything here and pass it off as memoirs. Stones, shells, necklaces, stuff...some of these things are so useless I don’t even know what to name them. The only saving grace for a shop-o-phobic like me was the food. Now there’s an interesting micro-economy at work here.
Tourist arrives in Goa. His plan is to take a cheap holiday, get tanned, doped and do nothing. He manages to do all this. Then tourist realizes he’s broke and does not have money to go back. So he tries earning it back. What’s the easiest way? (if you are not a babe, i.e.) He cooks whatever he can. Who eats the food? The new homesick tourist, of course. What this elaborate microeconomy however ensures is that Ingos turns into a veritable agglomeration of the world’s best cusine, cooked in the most authentic of fashions. Dutch pies, Danish pastries, German Red Meat, Brit Salads, you name it, Ingos has it. The desserts are also truly world class.


The blind turn off the Lighthouse!!!

Ok, here’s for the really adventurous. On a fully moonlit night take the right just before the lightouse and go in for a while. You will come to a cliff which has quite a breathtaking view with very strong winds. The experience is truly worth the possibility of getting into trouble with the cops. Looks exactly like the many shots of South Africa regularly dished up in Bollywood. songs. (or should I say Indian Film Industry:))

Getting a Tan

As much as our national obsession with fair skin sometimes embarrasses me, the Caucasian obsession with the tan borders on the insane. Imagine waking up every morning as soon as the sun is out, coming to the beach and lying down on your recliner, getting baked in 35 degrees, hoping the sun will do the rest Just lying down!!! How many of us remember our grandmas chiding us for playing cricket just for a few hours in the summer, with that rather prophetic “You will become dark” threat. My grandma should take a look at these freaks.

Doing Nothing

I don’t think anyone can love the spirit of Bombay and Goa at the same time. If you ask me to encapsulate the Goan spirit, it would simply be “doing nothing”. After a point, it started getting to me. Rows and rows of Goan men and women, sipping their fenny or sitting on the porch, or a hammock, with a generous sprinkling of perennially doped firangs just “doing nothing”. As are most human emotions, sloth is also contagious. You start getting into the Goan mood, and feel that lifting your butt from the beach shack facing the azure sky and serene ocean is a gigantic task that requires a lot of thought. As a famous campaign said “ Goa…. On Holiday…365 days”!!!!


As I’ve already got into enough trouble with my dedications, this trip is simply dedicated to free spirit, wanderlust and flirting(Don’t bother decrypting that)