I'm sitting in Mumbai on the 26th of December and it doesnt seem even miles close to the winters I'm used to from Delhi.
Sure, the weather's nice and global warming is getting Mumbai closer to Arctic winters more than ever, but I still miss the Delhi winter chill, and the hours spent on the chhat gorging on guavas, oranges, peanuts and loads of revdis and gajaks. I wrote this blog, because as I sit in sunny mumbai i was just reminded of the popcorn and peanuts cart that this man used to drive by with in fron tof home every winter afternoon I can remember. We'd run down from the balcony, take 10 rupees worth of hot popcorns, (kept warm by a earthen pot with burning coal in it). It would almost be 2 bagfuls and we would nervously balance them, careful not to drop a single precious morsel. It would then be taken to the kitche, where my sister would warm up some butter, empty out the popcorn into big bowls and pour the golden yellow butter liberally all over them, till they glistened and reflected the blurry winter sun.
Well, ya its another thing, that gymming and aerobics have become essential for a healthy existence now after those years of buttered pop corn! ;)
But, never mind.. memories like those still melt in my mouth, so its all worth it in the end I guess..
Monday, December 25, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Bean Bags Anyone?!
If you've ever come to Mumbai and traveled from anywhere to anywhere by road, you are bound to have seen the message
"Bean Bags
2640 7383"
2640 7383"
It's spray painted in purple or black across all the walls, flyovers, asbestos sheets, houses, shops, unused cars or even people who haven't moved in a few days!
I believe its the single most effective viral marketing tool employed by any one in such an ad-cluttered and competitve environment that Mumbai has.
Who are these people who are so desperate to sell bean bags? And why?? Do they foresee some great natural disaster the shocks of which could be cushioned only by a bean bag?
Or did someone gift them a lot of paint spray cans this Diwali?
In any case they've been painting the town a dark shade of red like there was no tomorrow
But then there's another question.... how do they go about it?
Since the handwriting is more or less the same in all the signages, either its just one very efficient person with a lot of spray cans or an army of a few hundred that were trained to spray the message in the same font every place between Thane to the airport.
In any case they're doing a great job of building a long lasting and consistent brand image.
The last question I have is.. are they really selling bean bags or is it bean bags that they're looking for? Are we supposed to call them if we see a bean bag lying unattended?
No clue. Maybe I should call and confirm my doubts, just that I fear I'll end up being in a bag if I express so much curiosity about bean bags! :))
I believe its the single most effective viral marketing tool employed by any one in such an ad-cluttered and competitve environment that Mumbai has.
Who are these people who are so desperate to sell bean bags? And why?? Do they foresee some great natural disaster the shocks of which could be cushioned only by a bean bag?
Or did someone gift them a lot of paint spray cans this Diwali?
In any case they've been painting the town a dark shade of red like there was no tomorrow
But then there's another question.... how do they go about it?
Since the handwriting is more or less the same in all the signages, either its just one very efficient person with a lot of spray cans or an army of a few hundred that were trained to spray the message in the same font every place between Thane to the airport.
In any case they're doing a great job of building a long lasting and consistent brand image.
The last question I have is.. are they really selling bean bags or is it bean bags that they're looking for? Are we supposed to call them if we see a bean bag lying unattended?
No clue. Maybe I should call and confirm my doubts, just that I fear I'll end up being in a bag if I express so much curiosity about bean bags! :))
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Watched The Motorcycle Diaries last night...
I'm not a biker, or a man or an Argentinian and there was very little I thought that I'd be able to relate with in the movie. However, it was completely unlike I thought
Its exactly the kind of movie that makes you feel terrible about watching a movie when u'd rather be out there doing what they're doing. Travelling across borders, meeting different people, talking to them about their problems and realising that your own problems are as significant as a flame next to a forest fire...
The movie is based on the bike travels of Che Guevara and his companion Alberto Granado, the Marxist revelutionary, author of many books on guerrila warfare and an icon of the socialist revolutionary movements much before he was summarily executed at the age of 39.
I unfortunately, am ashamed to say that I knew nothing of this man as I watched the movie, it was only later, when I went to Wikipedia to look up the cute guy who played Guevara (erhm.. we'll talk about that later) that I came across this brilliant picture of Ernesto Che Guevara. Extremely familiar, not just because of the fact it had been used in ads across the globe (something I like to keep a track of) but also because its very difficult to forget such an image. It is the picture of someone who is looking ahead even as others are looking at him. He's a revolutionary and there is a sense of mission that possesses his appearance.
Maybe I'm blabbering, but then its my blog, thats the least I owe to it! ;)
Anyway, to begin with, the movie was visually stunning. It was a journey across the cold Atacama desert, the dusty plains of Argentinia and the meandering roads of Chile.
However more than that, what strikes you is the distance between how much the haves have and how little the have-nots get a chance to move towards the better.
Anyway, the movie was a great eye opener of sorts. Guevara moved out for a trip that turned out to be the biggest learning experience of his life. Maybe that's something we all need to do. Maybe we need to look at thinking about what we want to do before just making the decisions of our life. We just keep jumping into one thing from the other. From school to college then onto the job, we dont give a thought about what it is that we really want to do.
Maybe we should take a break, take a ride, meet someone we'd wouldve never met otherwise, maybe we should talk less and think more, walk till our feet our sore, maybe we should listen for what they didnt say and try not to answer every question that comes our way..
That way probably we'd be able to know more about ourselves and see where in life we'd be happiest...
Its exactly the kind of movie that makes you feel terrible about watching a movie when u'd rather be out there doing what they're doing. Travelling across borders, meeting different people, talking to them about their problems and realising that your own problems are as significant as a flame next to a forest fire...
The movie is based on the bike travels of Che Guevara and his companion Alberto Granado, the Marxist revelutionary, author of many books on guerrila warfare and an icon of the socialist revolutionary movements much before he was summarily executed at the age of 39.
I unfortunately, am ashamed to say that I knew nothing of this man as I watched the movie, it was only later, when I went to Wikipedia to look up the cute guy who played Guevara (erhm.. we'll talk about that later) that I came across this brilliant picture of Ernesto Che Guevara. Extremely familiar, not just because of the fact it had been used in ads across the globe (something I like to keep a track of) but also because its very difficult to forget such an image. It is the picture of someone who is looking ahead even as others are looking at him. He's a revolutionary and there is a sense of mission that possesses his appearance.
Maybe I'm blabbering, but then its my blog, thats the least I owe to it! ;)
Anyway, to begin with, the movie was visually stunning. It was a journey across the cold Atacama desert, the dusty plains of Argentinia and the meandering roads of Chile.
However more than that, what strikes you is the distance between how much the haves have and how little the have-nots get a chance to move towards the better.
Anyway, the movie was a great eye opener of sorts. Guevara moved out for a trip that turned out to be the biggest learning experience of his life. Maybe that's something we all need to do. Maybe we need to look at thinking about what we want to do before just making the decisions of our life. We just keep jumping into one thing from the other. From school to college then onto the job, we dont give a thought about what it is that we really want to do.
Maybe we should take a break, take a ride, meet someone we'd wouldve never met otherwise, maybe we should talk less and think more, walk till our feet our sore, maybe we should listen for what they didnt say and try not to answer every question that comes our way..
That way probably we'd be able to know more about ourselves and see where in life we'd be happiest...
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Not my spritz of perfume
I have been thinking of buying a perfume for my sister for a really long time, not that she stinks or anything. Just that I thought a nice, expensive perfume would be a decent, if not a fitting gift for her wedding. So I dragged along my friend, who I believe is the closest I'll come to anyone who can distinguish between a CK and a Chanel, and we went to Shopper's Stop to test our sense of smell.
'Would you like to try a Chanel No. 5?' said the woman who's face I cannot recall. Before I could say a yes, with a single swift movement she shook the bottle and sprayed from it on a strip of paper and shoved the strip beneath my nose.
I took a deep sniff and let the scent fill my head, gave a profound, thoughtful expression and said in the most sophisticated voice I could muster, 'Smells like an amrood'.
Lipika, my friend, took the strip from my hand and nodded in approval. Yesss! I wasnt as unskilled as I thought in perfume identification.
Over the next hour or so, we allowed perfumed strips of paper along with beans of coffee to be stuck under our noses. The coffee beans were meant to ensure that we dont confuse the subtle fruity woodiness of 'Sentiments' by Escada with the flowery woodiness of 'Signature' by the same brand.
Unfortunately, my not so trained nose could only pick up the guava smell from each scent, that none actually claimed to offer..
Looking at our (read, my) perplexed expressions, the salesperson asked me if I would '.. like to see AC me aake?'. 'What the hell is the dude talking about, we're in Shopper's Stop and the AC is working just fine!' Lipika, unfortunately did not look as startled as me and said yes we'd like to.
Maybe thats some perfume code that you need to crack before they let you buy any branded fragrance, i thought. So he took us to another corner and even as I was wondering that the AC is no better here than it was where we were earlier... he took out a bottle, 'Issey Miyake'.. " a 40 yr old classic perfume". I was ashamed at my ignorance, but did not let out a hint of it to the salesperson. We dont want perfume that is that old, I thought and asked him if he could us something new, flowery and woody. The last two words having being added to my vocabulary only in the last hour or so.
We finally came down to two choices, both by Escada, one very expensive, the other not so frugal a purchase either. Time was now to make a decision. Something I've always been terrible at, especially when it demands me shelling out a lot of money to purchase something whose value I will perpetually question.
To make my job simpler, I called my mom and asked her if my sister needed a perfume, and would appreciate it amongst all the other gifts she's recieve.. (hoping throughout that she'd say no!) But my mom said, sure a perfume is nice, just dont buy something too expensive.
Bingo! The golden words had been uttered and as much as I told my mom that she should stop being miserly and let me buy something expensive and flamboyant for my only sister's wedding... somewhere I was happy that I will be have to pay 700 rupees less.
I know its cheap and I know I shouldnt be so stingy, but I think the stench of the money-counting Gujju genes in my blood far surpasses any fragrance I will ever decide to buy.
'Would you like to try a Chanel No. 5?' said the woman who's face I cannot recall. Before I could say a yes, with a single swift movement she shook the bottle and sprayed from it on a strip of paper and shoved the strip beneath my nose.
I took a deep sniff and let the scent fill my head, gave a profound, thoughtful expression and said in the most sophisticated voice I could muster, 'Smells like an amrood'.
Lipika, my friend, took the strip from my hand and nodded in approval. Yesss! I wasnt as unskilled as I thought in perfume identification.
Over the next hour or so, we allowed perfumed strips of paper along with beans of coffee to be stuck under our noses. The coffee beans were meant to ensure that we dont confuse the subtle fruity woodiness of 'Sentiments' by Escada with the flowery woodiness of 'Signature' by the same brand.
Unfortunately, my not so trained nose could only pick up the guava smell from each scent, that none actually claimed to offer..
Looking at our (read, my) perplexed expressions, the salesperson asked me if I would '.. like to see AC me aake?'. 'What the hell is the dude talking about, we're in Shopper's Stop and the AC is working just fine!' Lipika, unfortunately did not look as startled as me and said yes we'd like to.
Maybe thats some perfume code that you need to crack before they let you buy any branded fragrance, i thought. So he took us to another corner and even as I was wondering that the AC is no better here than it was where we were earlier... he took out a bottle, 'Issey Miyake'.. " a 40 yr old classic perfume". I was ashamed at my ignorance, but did not let out a hint of it to the salesperson. We dont want perfume that is that old, I thought and asked him if he could us something new, flowery and woody. The last two words having being added to my vocabulary only in the last hour or so.
We finally came down to two choices, both by Escada, one very expensive, the other not so frugal a purchase either. Time was now to make a decision. Something I've always been terrible at, especially when it demands me shelling out a lot of money to purchase something whose value I will perpetually question.
To make my job simpler, I called my mom and asked her if my sister needed a perfume, and would appreciate it amongst all the other gifts she's recieve.. (hoping throughout that she'd say no!) But my mom said, sure a perfume is nice, just dont buy something too expensive.
Bingo! The golden words had been uttered and as much as I told my mom that she should stop being miserly and let me buy something expensive and flamboyant for my only sister's wedding... somewhere I was happy that I will be have to pay 700 rupees less.
I know its cheap and I know I shouldnt be so stingy, but I think the stench of the money-counting Gujju genes in my blood far surpasses any fragrance I will ever decide to buy.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Learnings from Madhupur
I'm in the 5th trimester of a fairly well known b-school in India and anyone who's been in one knows its absolutely the most lazed out time of life. An average day includes 2-3 movies, around 12-15 hours of sleeping and if the day is really hectic, then maybe an hour long lecture..
Life is good and I'm following this schedule very strictly. Saw a movie called 'Somethings Gotta Give' yesterday, fairly interesting though a lil incestuous with the guy (Jack Nicholson) making out with the daughter (Amanda Peet) and then later on with her mom (Diane Keaton), but then when was incestuous not interesting..
The movie is pleasant though, which is surprising, possibly because it was a romantic comedy and lately I've been driven to watch those very intently. They are comforting yet, disturbing in a way with all the gooey mushiness that encompasses the people who fall (or rise) in love. So much that nothing is clear, and everything is seen through rose coloured glasses (that may be the filter used with the camera but who cares). In the past two months I've seen over 12 such crazily in love kind of movies, some diabetically sweet, others which confused 'awesome and totally hysterical sex' with love and some that were genuinely nice.
But the one that tops my list is a romantic comedy that I havent seen yet and incidently, wasnt supposed to be a comedy, but since I've heard so much about that movie, I can visualise it in all its glory despite having spent 175 bucks in a multiplex.
Vivaah, the journey from engagement to marriage is the movie and is what I believe the manual for all the women who wish to get married in the next few hundred years.
A shy girl ( please note, shy equals never letting the man you love see the color of your eyes, coz ur eyelids are never raised high enough and your decibels should be just loud enough so that he can hear you murmur those three golden words....' jal lekar aaon?')
But then I guess, thats how Madhupur girls are raised, and if you'd read the controversial article on Forbes by Michael Noer on how career women make disastrous wives., you'd nod your head in approval. (Must read by the way, makes for a great conversation!)
The article starts with "
Guys: a word of advice. Marry pretty women or ugly ones. Short ones or tall ones. Blondes or brunettes. Just, whatever you do, don't marry a woman with a career."
So you can well figure what its about.. it says that women who dont have jobs make better wives, mothers, home-makers and in essence all men should keep a safe distance from those who do.
So what it is it about shy, murmuring women who's shopping haunts are the 'gali ka mela' and who think kissing will impregnate them, heir colony attractive to men? A question I've been wondering about since a really long time...
Is it the Indian culture that they've been marinated in that makes the guys like them? Maybe it is their nauseating shyness that makes them think 'mujhe haq hai?'
Maybe its their attitude of never questioning the status quo and always going the 'chup-chaap aansoo pi loongi' way, that gives a sense of power to the man.
Maybe shutting up and not having an opinion is what you need to get a man.
Maybe I should just stop writing this, douse my face in a litre of make up and murmur my way out of the hostel...
Will let u know if it works!
Life is good and I'm following this schedule very strictly. Saw a movie called 'Somethings Gotta Give' yesterday, fairly interesting though a lil incestuous with the guy (Jack Nicholson) making out with the daughter (Amanda Peet) and then later on with her mom (Diane Keaton), but then when was incestuous not interesting..
The movie is pleasant though, which is surprising, possibly because it was a romantic comedy and lately I've been driven to watch those very intently. They are comforting yet, disturbing in a way with all the gooey mushiness that encompasses the people who fall (or rise) in love. So much that nothing is clear, and everything is seen through rose coloured glasses (that may be the filter used with the camera but who cares). In the past two months I've seen over 12 such crazily in love kind of movies, some diabetically sweet, others which confused 'awesome and totally hysterical sex' with love and some that were genuinely nice.
But the one that tops my list is a romantic comedy that I havent seen yet and incidently, wasnt supposed to be a comedy, but since I've heard so much about that movie, I can visualise it in all its glory despite having spent 175 bucks in a multiplex.
Vivaah, the journey from engagement to marriage is the movie and is what I believe the manual for all the women who wish to get married in the next few hundred years.
A shy girl ( please note, shy equals never letting the man you love see the color of your eyes, coz ur eyelids are never raised high enough and your decibels should be just loud enough so that he can hear you murmur those three golden words....' jal lekar aaon?')
But then I guess, thats how Madhupur girls are raised, and if you'd read the controversial article on Forbes by Michael Noer on how career women make disastrous wives., you'd nod your head in approval. (Must read by the way, makes for a great conversation!)
The article starts with "
Guys: a word of advice. Marry pretty women or ugly ones. Short ones or tall ones. Blondes or brunettes. Just, whatever you do, don't marry a woman with a career."
So you can well figure what its about.. it says that women who dont have jobs make better wives, mothers, home-makers and in essence all men should keep a safe distance from those who do.
So what it is it about shy, murmuring women who's shopping haunts are the 'gali ka mela' and who think kissing will impregnate them, heir colony attractive to men? A question I've been wondering about since a really long time...
Is it the Indian culture that they've been marinated in that makes the guys like them? Maybe it is their nauseating shyness that makes them think 'mujhe haq hai?'
Maybe its their attitude of never questioning the status quo and always going the 'chup-chaap aansoo pi loongi' way, that gives a sense of power to the man.
Maybe shutting up and not having an opinion is what you need to get a man.
Maybe I should just stop writing this, douse my face in a litre of make up and murmur my way out of the hostel...
Will let u know if it works!
Monday, November 06, 2006
In the confession box
I'm an MBA student, have started two blogs in the past and let them die of post-starvation. Decided to give one last shot to talk about me, not that I don't do the same offline as well..
Recently, because of an internship with a media house, I had to scourge through blogs across all dimensions on the web. Every post I read, was an uncanny reminder me of how those were my exact sentiments and could be on my blog as well.
So here's what I have to say about just about anything for just about any reason. Hope I don't let laziness take the better of me now.. :)
Recently, because of an internship with a media house, I had to scourge through blogs across all dimensions on the web. Every post I read, was an uncanny reminder me of how those were my exact sentiments and could be on my blog as well.
So here's what I have to say about just about anything for just about any reason. Hope I don't let laziness take the better of me now.. :)
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