Monday, November 29, 2010

Ajith Emmanuel and 250 million others like this

INT. Phoenix Club - Night

Sean Parker (to Mark Zuckerberg)

A Stanford MBA named Roy Raymond wants to buy his wife some lingerie but he's too embarrassed to shop for it at a department store. He comes up with an idea. One that doesn't make you feel like a pervert. He gets a $40,000 bank loan, borrows another $40,000 from his in-laws, opens a store, and calls it Victoria's Secret.


I have just come home after watching The Social Network. The first thing I did was, not so surprisingly, log on to The Social Network. And I feel something different this time. The movie has implanted a weird feeling in my mind. And it’s growing fast. Faster than the customer base of the world’s most used brand. facebook.

Maybe the fact that it's a product is what causing the weird feeling. While I have been happily connecting with my friends and strangers, hunting for mates and being hunted by enemies,sharing, chatting and commenting, what I haven’t realized all this time was that I was being used. Exploited. I am just another ‘number’ for Zuckerberg that gets added to his customer base and brings in more ads. At least that’s how he looks up on me, as a Facebook user. Someone is acting smart out there, making money every time I log on. It feels like he's giggling. And I really don't like it.

A product of a product of Harvard. A product that doesn’t advertise and beckon with a board that reads ‘use me again’. But still entangles me all the time I am in front of a computer. And then follows me wherever computers can’t reach, through my mobile. It’s not that I can’t leave it. It just won’t leave me.

Wait! Is it all just cooked up misery?. Of a once-aspiring IIMtian, subconsciously working out an ego, after seeing an undergraduate of Harvard making money out of him? Or the inborn expertise of an Indian to find false, like a needle from haystack, especially about a white during anti-american times? Or is it a good-for-nothing 26 year old unashamedely feeling jealous about the world's youngest billionaire who happened to be of the same age? Whatever, it was fun watching a bunch of Harvards talking nonsense and business on the screen than reading three idiots having fun on the pages of Chetan Bhagat's.

Ok! It’s late. Let me stop and check who’s online on the $30 billion website. It’s 3.00 am.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The world belongs to the balckberr…balckbeer..blackber…whoever.

I couldn’t resist writing this. And it really happened.

Once upon a time in Bahrain, three blackberrerian gals and a non-balckberrerian gal, planned to go to a restaurant. Yeah! It seems like the world has been divided into to two now. Blackberrerians and non-blackberrerians. And it’s just one of the classifications. You have other divisions like the weight-conscious (those who opt Diet Coke) and the not-so types (those who go for the conventional can), the Facebookers and the uncivilized, the nature-lovers (not those who love to take a nap under some tree rather than an air conditioned room, but those who use black screensavers to save energy) and the careless ones(those who leave the monitor on, when going out for lunch), to name a few. Obviously when the ancient male-female division obscures the world finds by itself new ones. Blackberrerians and non- blackberrerians is one of them.

So our non-balckberrerian gal waits in front of the restaurant at 10:59(the traditional type who is too punctual) in front of the restaurant. Waits and waits and waits. She doesn’t find the blackberrerian gals. Actually what happened was that the blackberrerians had effortlessly ‘communicated’ to each other that they all would be late. Poor non-blackberrerian, she was not in the loop.

After half an hour the blackberrerians arrive, one by one. Each one, at the short interval between one message and the other arriving on blackberry, looks up, smiles at each other, hugs, and gets back to their keypads. Typing super-fast, sending whatever to whoever. The non-blackberrerian stands irritated, having nothing to do.

They all move to the restaurant. The non- blackberrerian finds a table for all, as others can’t complete one round of eye-spanning across the big restaurant before the next message flashes on the screen.

The non-blackberrerian gets more irritated.

They all sit down and the menu arrives. It seems like only the non- blackberrerian is interested in food. After three visits by the waiter, the non- blackberrerian decides to shout at the blackberrerians to keep the Blackberry aside, atleast when with friends.

But before she could shout, it happened. The blackberrerians laughed aloud. All the three, together. And the non-blackberrerian was taken aback in shock, surprise and dismay. Believe me or not, sitting together around one table, they were chatting with each other on Blacberry. Huh! Blackberrerians!

PS: Story as described by the blackberrerian gal.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

A night in the life of a copywriter

A night in the life of a copywriter
11:01 pmAll the lines got bombed! I am angry. And hungry.

11:07 pmDinner is on the way, so the Ice ‘n’ Spice guy says. But it’s been half past an hour since I’ve placed the ordered. The small red light inside my head blinks with much effort, accompanied by beeps, to let me know it’s going to run out of power, at any moment.

11:12 pmHey! It’s an idea that just went past me. Right? Or was it just a hallucination? No! It was! Yes! Yahooo!!! But it doesn’t look good. Anyway write it down. A line that sounds great!

11:13 pmI write it down. No it doesn’t sound great. Still I try to make myself believe that I have a good line. At the heart of hearts I know it’s not.

11: 15 pmI hate the product I am advertising. As much as the Ice ‘n’ Spice guy who lies to me.

11:25 pmI hear a feeble footstep downstairs. Is it the Ice ‘n’ Spice guy? No. But that’s not the worse part. It’s the servicing guy!

11:32 pmAh! The Ice ‘n’ Spice guy arrives. Cheesy pasta with veg-sauce. French fries. And a Red Bull. A slight ray of hope for my tummy.

11:49 pmThe slight ray obscures as I realize he hasn’t kept the Red Bull I had ordered in the pack. I am thirsty! And angry! Back to ground zero.

11: 50 pmAgain with pen and paper. Now I can’t have an excuse. I had my food. I have to write lines! Or something.

12:01 amBeep, Beep! Beep Beep! SMS from friend. “ Dude you missed it! The movie was amazing!”Oops! Tomorrow is Friday. Movie’s gonna change! The movie I had been yearning to watch from the day it was premiered. The hatred for the product I am working for becomes a bit more intense.

12:27 amBeep, Beep! Beep Beep! Yet another message, from CD.” Any luck with the lines?”

12:28 amNow no chance! I have to do it somehow!12:55 am“Buy it!” Chi, crap!“Nothing else will do.” Thoo, Scorpio’s line!“Like nothing else.” Che, Sony!.“Like no one else.” Someone else says it.

12: 56 amHey, if they can copy, why can’t I?

01:15 am“Powerful and…“The time of…“Get one and…

01:17 amUuhum! Nothing works.

01:25 amBeep, Beep! No, I am not even hearing the second beep. I can’t take another SMS from CD. Anyhow, I read it. “Send whatever you have.”

01:27 amSending the lines I have got.

01: 31 amBeep, Beep! Beep, Beep! Reply from CD. “Can you give it another shot?”

01: 35 amEyes are feeling heavy. Anyway I crumble the paper and throw it into the trash. No! I am not satisfied. I take it out, tear it into two. No! I am not happy! I offer my lines to the paper shredder.

01: 37 amNow what? Completely new lines! Ah! From where?

01: 42 amNothing!

01: 48 amNothing!02:10 amBeep, Beep! Beep, Beep! CD? No my girl! “I tht atlst u wud b d lst person to wish me on my bday! And pls don’t call me up! Am hitting the sack!”Shit! Shit! I mean Shitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt! It’s 7th. How? How could I forget?

02:11 amI call her, but in vain!

02:15 amI call her again. But in vain, again! I don’t want to write anymore lines. My girl….I hate the brand.

02: 16 amIrony! When you decide not to think, a line strikes! I think I’ve got a line. But no use. It doesn’t sound good.

02: 18 amI am not feeling good. I need to turn off the AC. Blame it on the global warming; my colleagues don’t want to turn it off.

02:20 amI can’t stand the cold anymore. I am chilling. I am not well for sure!

02:25 amAttack of the fever!

02:35 am God, give me some lines! As if God is an ex-copywriter!

02: 49 am Hungry!

03:03 am Still hungry!

03:15 am What? Once hungry, always hungry. I mean till you get food tomorrow morning. What have I done to this brand to make my life so miserable?

03 25 amI get a line. It works! So I think! I write it down.

03:40 amNothing else comes to mind. How can I send an SMS without an option for the line? But then something is better than nothing.

03:55 amSending the only line to the CD.

04:01 amBeep, Beep! Beep, Beep, Beep! Line gets approved!And the brand that put me through my worst times, that made me miss my favourite movie forever, that put my relation on standby, that took my health off, gets a brand new line that defines it. I look on to my paper. There it lies!“Life’s good!”

Note: I dedicate this article to my colleagues around the world who have suffered, sacrificed and died in the process of writing lines like:“Life is busy. Acer makes it easy”“The good times”“That was easy”“As easy as it can get”

Disclaimer: ‘I’ denote not the writer.