A-I-D-S

Have no idea? Have no idea what's going on?

The first is a common malady, treated quite easily by persistence of pen on a blank piece of paper.

The second is an even more abundantly prevalent ailment. Incurable. Epidemic.

Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome?

Advertising In Deep Shit?

Why TwentyOne C?

It didn't take me 13 years to realise that the way an ad agency is structured is unfair to a creative person. It took me that long to muster up the courage to do something about it.

Therefore TwentyOne C.

Why TwentyOne?

At 36, I discovered the legs of a 21 year old. Probably because I'm running after something I passionately believe in. Heck, I'm also running 'cos I know the bank account ain't gonna clink on the 1st of every month.

But what the hell!!

I'm running to save my own ass. I like that.

TwentyOne C

Ok, I was bored. Logging on, typing a few lines, checking back for comments. Therefore the break. I didn't get away from writing though. I wrote ads, some jokes, verse, and worse, a resignation letter. After 13 years in the business of advertising, marketing and refusing to suck up, I got lucky.

I found an employer who I would love for the rest of my life. I found a workplace where it would actually be all about the work, and nothing else. I found an agency where I could actually work for the people below me.

You know, I really should be saying founded. It's called TwentyOne Creative.

Then bought a laptop, printed a bunch of business cards and hit the road. Armed with a belief in my abilities and the firm faith that clients deserved better than the bull that's hitherto been served up to them.

A few weeks down the line what have I to report? My first client.

So long then, till I have something new to report, which i'm hoping will be really soon. Meanwhile I request you to visit TwentyOne Creative's website for a look at its under construction page. My colleague wrote a rather cute limerick for the space.

www.21c.in

Click.

Confessions of an adman

'What do you do for a living?' asked the adman.

'Nothing', came the reply.

'Oh, I'm working towards that too.'

On the write note

If only we passed a ball as well as we passed the buck, we'd be champions of the world's most popular game.

Maa tujhey salaam

On the write note

The use of toilet paper is on the rise.
Ass kissers beware.

On the write note

India now has a stable Government 'cos the stable is now out of the Government.

From Madurai, with love

One of my own.

Air traffic on the rise?

Pigs must have wings, cos swine flu.

Word Flay

Honorable Minister.

Pick one.

Just doing it?

Chucking up etiquette and letting fly with footwear has become a popular sport among scribes around the world. And with the TV cameras on them it throws up instant stardom and sponsorship possibilities like never before. (I hear one bloke was even offered a ticket to contest the Lok Sabha elections.)

Here's how it works.

Scribe. Stands. Throws. Bingo. MVO. This program was brought to you by ABC footwear. Jootey lo, jootey do. Ting tong.

The scribe of course gets a generous fee from the sponsor, and a lawyer. If the shoe was thrown with logo facing camera, double the fee. To spice things up, a few sprightly young things in 'little or next to nothing skirts', can be added to the frame to wave their pompoms among other assets.

IPL move over. The Bootslinging Badshahs are here.

The Thompson twins?

They think alike. They do alike. Even starting to look alike.

Give 'em a name

Call 'em anything but the Sri Ram Sene.

A name like 'Sri Ram' gives them a legitimacy that they should be denied. (I hope a media person has a ear to this.)

I suggest Chaddi Buddies. (In fond memory of the pink that's overflowing from their party office in Mangalore.)

You have a name?

A face in the sand
A quivering hand
Does anybody know
Or understand?
What blew through the air
A bloody nightmare
It twisted Bhopal
Beyond repair


A spine inclined
A jaw you can’t find
Eyes that can’t see
That death has been kind
Legs that can’t walk
Tongues that can’t talk
Lungs that can’t breathe
Lives frozen in rock

Chorus:
Hey long arm of the law, slip out of pockets of gold
Filled by the promises of riches untold
Those pockets have loopholes, those pockets of gold
It’s time you found out our lives can’t be sold.


Is justice no more
Can money buy all
Make the righteous fall
And look the other way
Can the guilty walk free
Screw the judiciary
Kill our right to be
And call it democracy

(Repeat chorus)

They say justice delayed
Is justice denied
Been 25 years
But the tears haven’t dried
The fight will go on
Till justice is won
And the face in the sand
Won’t fade till we’re done

(Repeat chorus)

A face in the sand
A quivering hand
Does anybody know
Or understand?


'A Face in the Sand' is a song I've written in support of the Bhopal movement. I'll soon have an mp3 for you to download.

Pea Brain Ideas

I stumbled upon a blog last night.

Just 3 posts old, but there's a helluva lot more in this pod than what its title 'Pea Brain Ideas' leads you to believe.

Click here to pick this pod.

Titular titter returns

He lives by the book. His name is Emanual.

Titular titter

They insist he be called the Honourable Minister. And I cannot understand how one can be true when the other is.

This perhaps is a more accurate summary.


Honourable Minister *









* Conditions apply.