A little bit of life, a day at a time...

There is a thought that has been niggling at the back of my mind for quite a while now. About how life is such a whimsical, fly-away little dream. One day, we are happy, boisterous, raring to take the world by its heels and swing away with all our might. And the next day, we are invariably reminded of our own mortality. Falling with a resounding thud into reality.

A few days back, I got talking to a colleague about another colleague who has been away for a while now, battling a life-threatening disease. He is one of the most cheerful, most vibrant and one of the kindest people I have come across in a long time. The kind of people who are bereft of enemies in the world. The kind that breeze in like sunshine and always bring a smile to your lips with what they say. And I couldn't help but feel sad about the unfairness of it all. I think of his two little ones - a little girl whose dimples will steal anyone's heart. Two well-behaved, sweet little angels. I think of the wife who must be battling sorrow everyday, trying to keep a brave facade for the world, all the time praying to God too keep her family intact. And I pray to God too.

Having dreams, hopes, building a future, loving your loved ones, working hard, getting your pay at the end of the month - what does it all mean anyway? What is the ultimate purpose of life? Its scary if one has to pause and look at it all from a distance. We go about our days on automaton, constantly running, pushing, pulling, trying hard to get things to work our way, worrying about immaterial issues, getting annoyed with our spouses for little things and all the time being unaware of what life has in store for us the very next moment. Where will we be tomorrow? Who will be by our side? Why don't we pause and breathe? Why don't we spend more time with our loved ones? A kiss that can linger a little longer, a hug that can be a little more tighter. A little more time to talk to one's mother even when one knows the conversation will mostly be about what one had for breakfast or lunch. A little more singing in the bath even if it is widely off-key. A little more time to laugh, to think, to feel this beauty called life. A little more time to live, a day at a time...

Thief of innocence...

Toothless infants, in their blissful ignorance,

Know not the weird ways of the world.

Unaware of the chortling chaos around,

They lie in their cribs, peacefully curled.

Their treasure-chests hold no gemstones bright.

Nor are they greedy gatherers of gold.

They prize not all the wealth of the world.

For, sweet innocence is all their hearts hold.

But the world is indeed a ruthless teacher.

Its ways are passed from father to son.

Like an unending legacy, wrapped in falsities,

Relentlessly, tirelessly, thus life goes on.

And in fertile, young minds, are deftly sown,

The seeds of avarice, spite and vengeance.

Where hypocrisy is donned like a righteous cloak,

And age triumphs as the thief of innocence.

Refugees

I know, we must seem quite out of place.

From your vantage point, ridiculous even.

Like squatters who have set up home

On footpaths and refuse to vacate their poor hearth.

Your expression reveals your incredulity.

Your eyes are startled by the discovery.

But for me and my winged folk,

It is, but a cruel joke.

That has long since ceased to be funny

And remains open, like a yawning gash,

Refusing to be healed by time…

So, when you accidentally look on in passing

At the hay and grass and sodden straw,

Precariously teetering between the iron arms

And trailing down an electric pole,

Know that it is where we have been driven to live.

For, even lone electric poles on road-sides

Can efficiently serve as shelters.

Until of course, there is rain and storm...

Our home, that had once been lush and green,

Have been mercilessly razed to the ground,

To make way for your iron and brick monsters

That shelter you, serve you, help you rule…

As the perpetrators or as apathetic onlookers,

It is you who have caused our plight.

Stop and think of the damage you have rendered on nature.

You – the “Thinkers”..! the “Owners of intellect”..!

You are nothing but the harbingers of sorrow and suffering.

You may make a million aircrafts everyday,

Or imitate us all you like.

But no matter how hard you try,

As long as you are chained to your vices,

You shall never become us – The true spirits of freedom.

And you shall always remain the way you are –

Aliens to true happiness…

Forever, refugees…

Bad Ads need “Ad”monishing...

            

             Let me tell you about commercial ads that really drive me nuts. And not in a nice way too. These ads do their best to invoke in me the deepest possible irritation, making me stifle an urge to tear my own hair our every time I watch them on TV. Here’s why I feel so vehemently against crass, vulgar advertisement of meaningless trash:

1.       I’m not stupid

2.       I refuse to have stupid ad-guys think I’m stupid

3.       Aren’t these reason enough already?

             These ads that I’m referring to, they not only lack anything remotely creative, they seriously question one’s intelligence. You want to know why serial killers go about hacking innocent people to death? My theory is they probably watched too many of these ads and went berserk. I mean one can hardly blame them. Murderous rage is an inevitable outcome of being regularly inflicted to crass commercial ads. And I know I’m not alone in these ravings. Most of you would have had the same thought every time you curled up on the couch, with a bowlful of your favourite snack and felt like watching a good show on TV, when all of a sudden those god-awful jingles start and make your stomach churn. Oh well, they are serious kill-joys.

             Now, in all frankness, how many of you have endured the GoIndigo ad and not gone crazy temporarily? The moment that pseudo captain begins to dance onscreen along with his cronies, like a bunch of manic Neanderthals with some kind of incurable epilepsy, you swear by your neighbour’s dead great-great-great grandmother that you’d never ascend an Indigo flight for as long as you live. The jingle makes no sense whatsoever to the regular thinking Homo sapien. I, for one, have had several teeth-gnashing sessions every time this ad is aired.

            

            Similarly, there are the MDH masala ads. The owner has a serious case of the “Subhash Ghai syndrome”, popping in on every ad and flaunting his very own “masaledar” self to the unsuspecting public. Then, of course there are the “Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hai” ads, and all its versions so far with the latest one being endorsed by Sonakshi Sinha’s good self. The least said about that one, the better. I mean, seriously guys. Why would anyone want salt in their toothpaste? Have you ever felt the lack of salt in your toothpaste when you brush your teeth, bleary-eyed and half-asleep while rushing through your daily routine? So there. If you wanted salt, you’d put it in your food. Savvy?

           And hey, how can I forget the ones that demean womankind in general. There’s one where the husband goes “Ritu..where are my black socks?” And poor Ritu, for very obvious reasons, maliciously thinks “You are 35 years old and you still don’t know how to find your socks..!”She enters the bedroom, opens the dresser, pulls out the socks and hands it over to him with that look in her eye. Ring a bell, anyone? Right, that’s the one. It goes further to explain that if your entrails are devoid of crap, you tend to be in a better mood. How gross can that be? I bet every husband on watching this one, chuckles in glee and mocks his wife saying “So that’s why you are always in a foul mood – You are constipated, my dear..! Let’s get you that stuff..!” Aaaargh..!! And need I say anything about the “Axe” deo ads? I think I won’t even go there. They make my skin crawl with disgust every time I lay eyes on them.

            Let’s not forget those commercials that glorify in negative marketing. Themselves being incapable of coming up with something original, they take a dig at their competitors to claim their “superiority”. Grow up, guys. Have the balls to give us something new, something original or shut the f*#k up and let us be.

Gone are the days of meaningful or even simple, humourous ad-making. Remember the old “Pan Pasand” ad? When the guy proposes to the pretty girl, she angrily retorts - ”Shaadi..?! Aur tumse..?!” kabhi nahi..!” Out comes the Pan pasand candy and the reply from the girl in a sweeter, shy-er way “Shaadi. Aur tumse?..Kabhi nahi.” Now that was a funny one. Not many of them these days. Sigh..!

            Oh well, I don’t say all of them are of bad taste. But to ensure brand longevity, it has to be endurable and imprinted in one’s memory instead of questioning the viewer’s intelligence. In an era where competition is rife and brand survival is of utmost importance, today’s ad-makers should be more responsible while building their brand. Roping in a Katrina Kaif or a Sharukh Khan might be easy game but coming up with a simple idea that strikes a chord – now, that’s what counts. It’s time we said no to bad ads.