Musings
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Musings
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Orissa Burning
Waves....
You are young and life is long
And there is time to kill today
And then one day you find that
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun
Courtesy-"Time" by Pink Floyd.
Jai Hanuman
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Expressbuzz
Captain Courageous M.S. Dhoni led by example and guided India to a 46 run victory over Sri Lanka to win India its first ever bilateral series victory in Sri Lanka. Dhoni won the tos for the fourth time in a row and had no hesitation in electing to bat first. Virat Kohli scored 56, then Raina and Dhoni consolidated the innings even as Yuvraj got out for 6 and became Chaminda Vass's wicket number 400 in ODIs.
TAGGED!!!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
RECENT TRENDS IN THE INDIAN ADVERTISING SCENARIO
“Any fool can make a product; it takes brains to sell it.”
This is a line that is quoted in many contexts; but it was first used in the context of advertising. So how has Indian advertising changed; this essay tries to present an unbiased summary of the changes and recent trends in the Indian advertising scenario.
The eighties brought Doordarshan and the television set to the common man. The early advertisements were simple and tried to convey their message with simplicity. It took a while for the public to move away from the commercials aired on the radio. There was a time when programs like “Jai Jawan” and “Binaca Geetmala” on Vividh Bharathi had a mass following across the nation. Placing an advertisement. in these programs ensured that the public would be aware of your product.
Television serials like “Buniyaad,” “Humlog,” “Nukkad,” “Karamchand” etc… and film-based programs like “Chitrahaar” and “Rangoli” created their own fan-base and the loyal audience would regularly watch these programs. Thus TV ads. became a big source of revenue for the national broadcaster and innovative ads selling various products were born. Remember the early ads-“Washing Powder Nirma,” “I Love You Rasna,” “Congratulations and Celebrations”{For Cadburys chocolates, "Lifebuoy-tandurusti ki raksha karta hai lifebuoy.."
The advent of cable television and the arrival of international channels brought in a wide variety of foreign ads to the Indian viewer. The blossoming economy and removal restrictions on foreign imports and a liberal industrialization policy, saw the arrival of lots of foreign brands like Coke, Pepsi, Hyundai, Sony, Daewoo, etc.. in India.
The ads became more creative with the emphasis on humour. The boom in the automobile sector saw the creation of lots of ads for bikes. Remember the “Hero Puch ad with Aamir Khan”
We also had ads created by the government to celebrate national unity. Remember the cute ad with the song-“Ek tithli anek tithliyaan..” “Ek chidiya anek chidiyaan…” It had simple animation and blending a fable from the Panchatantra it exemplified the importance of staying united.
The “Mile Sur Mera Tumhara” ad, which had luminaries from all fields like Bhimsen Joshi, Amitabh, P.T.Usha, and a host of others was an immense hit and fostered national integration.
The nineties saw the arrival of sports stars and cine stars raking money with lucrative advertising deals. Remember the Aamir-Aishwarya ad. for Pepsi. The Sachin, Azhar, kambli ad for Pepsi. Actresses like Juhi Chawla, Shikha Swaroop and a host of others selling everything from soft drinks to luxury soaps.
Today the television advertising circuit faces a big threat from the Internet. Pop-up ads maybe irritating to the reader, but at least three out of ten people will click on it to see what the ad is all about. The TV ads of today are shot in a grand manner with the most famous movie or sports personalities and shot on location in Europe or Australia. At times it appears to be a criminal waste of time and money; but who cares; it is a case of my ad was more expensive to shoot than yours!
Another trend that is becoming really popular is in-brand advertising in Bollywoodie up with production houses to promote their products in a movie. Ex-Mountain Dew soft drink in Mission Istanbul -“Dar ke aage jeet hai. Hritik sipping Coke in a movie, Shahrukh using a high-end Nokia mobile phone in a movie, Aishwarya Rai flaunting a particular brand of diamond jewellery, Rani Mukherjee wearing a costly designer wristwatch by Titan, the list continues.
The modern consumer has a wide range of products to choose, a good advertisement may not necessarily transform a bad product in to a good one, but poor advertising can definitely kill a good product.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
India vs Sri Lanka ODI Series
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
INDIA TODAY
I woke up in the morning,
And I realized it is August 15–Independence Day.
Does it make me happy?
Does it make me sad?
I do not know!
A few thoughts that I want to share-
There is pollution everywhere,
There is corruption to the core,
Terrorism and violence everywhere,
A bomb blast here, a bomb blast there;
No value for human life anywhere.
The martyrs who sacrificed their lives for the nation.
Cry in their graves looking at the sad situation.
Once upon a time,
We had leaders like Gandhi, Nehru, and Subash Chandra Bose.
Today we have a bunch of crooks that are no better than horse-traders,
Changing their parties for the colour of money.
In spite of all these problems,
The common man continues to fight,
To struggle and succeed,
In this land of dreams and opportunities,
Hoping for a better tomorrow,
That is the spirit of the true Indian-
To hope against hope-
And persevere to succeed.
Here is a prayer for all the martyrs.
Another prayer for an India undivided.
An India without casteism and communalism.
An India where everyone is happy and free.
An India where everyone is respected and leads a life of freedom and dignity.
Let us hope that India Tomorrow,
Is much better than India Today.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
I went on a book-buying spree this weekend and bought the following books:
"Charlie Brown you don't look 50."
The Abominable Man.
The Locked Room.
Murder at the Savoy.
The last three are police thrillers written by Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo. Originally written in Swedish. They star Inspector Martin Becks.
If you like reading crime fiction, this series is bound to entertain you. Try reading them.
I also managed to read two David Baldacci thrillers last week-"The Camel Club" and "Hour Game." Seriously entertaining the tension never stops, but I felt that "The Camel Club" was a bit too long. Waiting for the next batch of Baldacci thrillers that my friend has promised to lend me.
So long.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
A LOVE STORY
She was not stunningly beautiful, just pretty in a simple charming sort of way. I see her everyday on the train. She boards the train at the Thirumailai station and alights at the Indra Nagar station; I continue on my journey and get down at the Thiruvanmiyur station. I am a programmer, I write code, and I work for a small outsourcing firm that pays me a decent salary.
It has been six months since I landed in Chennai and started working on my current job. The MRTS or “Flying Train” as it is popularly called is efficient and saves a lot of time when I commute to office from my shared apartment in Triplicane. My roommate woks for an FM radio station as a radio jockey; he is a cousin of my classmate at my college.
I noticed her for the first time a couple of months back, and ever since I wait with bated breath each time the train approaches the Thirumailai station. She is always dressed in salwar-kameez, no saree or jeans and T-shirt stuff. She carries a black handbag, it probably contains her lunch. She has golden eyes and wears minimal make up. In all my years in school and college I had never been so attracted by a face or seen someone who could carry oneself with so much grace.
I would often wonder “If I speak to her…” A chain of thoughts follows—Perhaps we would become friends, maybe we would go shopping or go to a movie, perhaps she would invite me to her house and introduce me to her parents, and then one thing would lead to another; and one fine day I would propose marriage, and she would say—“Yes.” When I spoke on this topic to my roommate, he said—“Matchaan family planning ellam super; do you know her name?”
Damn, curse the fellow to bring me back to reality. I thought—“I have been seeing her on the train everyday for close to three months now, and all I know is that she boards the train at Thirumailai and alights at Indra Nagar, has golden eyes, and wears Salwar-kameez with a preference for shades of black, lavender, and blue.”
I thought—“Dude, time to find out more about the girl with the golden eyes.” I got the opportunity pretty soon, July 4, being American Independence Day and falling on a Friday our clients in the U.S. gave us an extended weekend holiday.
So here I am on the train Friday morning dressed in a grey T-shirt and denims. I feel nervous as the train reaches Thirumailai, as usual she boards the train. She is wearing a blue salwar-kameez with floral prints. I try not staring at her and focus my concentration on the newspaper in my hands. The paper loses the battle as I catch stolen glances of her.
The train reaches Indra Nagar—she alights and I follow her; I maintain my distance, careful not to alert her of my presence. She walks with measured steps, with the fluidity of a ballet dancer or a gymnast. She walks for about fifteen minutes and enters a huge mansion. The building is reminiscent of the British era and is huge. I look at the arched board at the entrance. It reads—“Ashraya-School for the Blind.”
For a moment I stop and admire the girl’s courage and love. In an age where everyone wants to join an IT firm, here was one girl who was leading a life with a definite purpose.
I returned to my room and when my roommate questioned me I realized that I still did not know the girl’s name. My roommate joked—“Matchaan if this goes on she is going to get married to someone else, speak to her man.” I smiled stupidly and took out a novel and began reading it.
Monday morning was cold and chilly, it had rained heavily all of Sunday evening and night and the roads were wet and slippery. I went to the railway station, the station was more crowded than usual, someone said that a train had got cancelled—that explained the crowd. The train pulled into the station it was crowded; I somehow found a place to stand near the exit. I held on to the door as the train proceeded towards Thirumailai.
“Where was she? Had she taken leave because of the inclement weather?” The train was about to leave when she bounded up the stairways and ran on to the platform the train started and she made a dash for it as the train accelerated, she too increased her speed, I held out my hand and said-“Trust me, hold my hand, I will pull you in.” She looked at me for a moment and offered her hand; I pulled her in and she smiled at me sheepishly-“Thanks a lot, I would have missed the train if you had not helped me.” She held out her hand once again and said—“Hi, I am Diya, I am a teacher.” I shook hands with her—“Hi Diya, I am Mark I am a programmer. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
She got down at Indra Nagar but by then we had exchanged our mobile phone numbers and then it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. I began to visit her at her school on weekends and interacted with the children there. I helped set up a computer laboratory in their school and helped some of the children learn computers through JAWS a software for the visually impaired.
Slowly we began to like each other; we shared a common love for Illayaraja and Beethoven, Jayakanthan and Dostoevsky, and Clint Eastwood and Julia Roberts. The list of likes and dislikes was so similar that it made me believe in the fact—“Someone somewhere is made just for you.”
I met her parents and then spoke to my parents. Things fell into place; our engagement was announced in the church, and we got married.
We are living happily she is still working in the school, and I have been promoted to the post of Project Manager.
Well that is the story of our love story and we continue to love and live together happily.
Age…..
You know you are growing old when the kids playing in the local ground call you-“Uncle.”
The college-going boys and girls too decide to address you as “Uncle.”
You visit your dear old college to meet your professors, and the current batch of students thinks that you are the new lecturer who is going to teach them Literary Criticism.
Every morning instead of reading the sports section and the comics, your eyes go to the editorial section and the business section to check the latest rise in inflation and the hike in the prices of essential commodities.
A bunch of boisterous college boys and girls hanging out in the shopping mall suddenly go silent on seeing you. This happened thrice to me last month, for the love of God, I still do not know why the kids did this to meJ
The frequency and duration of the phone calls from your distant uncles and aunts with daughters of marriageable age to your parents increases significantly.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
MARIA
All her life,
She had to sleep,
Sleep with people,
Whom she never knew.
Some came to her,
In frustration.
Some came to her,
In lust.
But all her life,
She had to sleep ,
Sleep with people,
To feed her poor family.
Selling herself selflessly,
To selfish people,
Day after day,
Night after night.
A life of misery,
Undergoing pain and sadistic torture,
But she continued with a smile on her face,
Hoping that she would be happy one day.
Today she lies,
In her final resting place.
Under a single slab of stone.
To sleep in peace.
Finally and all alone.
MAHESHWARA PURANAM
The doctors continue to toil and a baby boy is delivered, but the tiny child is silent and shows no sign of life; the elderly chief doctor is a worried man; he prays for a miracle and asks for an oxygen cylinder. The oxygen mask brings life to the child and the tiny boy moves his feeble arms in protest; but he still does not cry. Is this child dumb? Will it survive the hour? In an act of desperation the doctor taps the child’s rump-“Waaa.” The child wailed and the doctors breathed a collective sigh of relief. If you are wondering what this was all about-well that is the story of my birth.
1985-Pune-Ajmera School-I wear my school uniform – light blue shirt, navy blue trousers, and formally enter the Indian educational system.
1988-Dad gets a job offer in Calcutta, and we move lock, stock, and barrel to Calcutta. A new city new people and above all I meet my grandparents and elder sister for the first time.
April 17 1988-I enter the hallowed corridors of M.P. Birla Foundation Higher Secondary School for the first time.
April 1989- I receive the thrashing of my life from my elder maternal uncle and then my mother for lying. The lie – I told my mother that my uncle had given me permission to buy a rubber ball, and my mother bought me a rubber ball, and my poor mother trusting her dear son bought the ball. My uncle on returning from office finding me playing with the ball found out the truth. That thrashing made me realize the importance of truth and trust. “Never lie to the ones you love.”
The next day my uncle bought me a real cricket ball. It was also the day that I was introduced to the wonderful world of Tintin and Snowy. My uncle bought me my first Tintin comic “Tintin and the Blue Lotus.” That day I fell in love with books and it has remained a lifelong passion.
October 1989-My first visit to South India with my younger maternal uncle starts on an adventurous note. I manage to get separated from my uncle in the crowd at Howrah station. As my uncle bangs his head in frustration, wondering how he would face my mother. I coolly walk to the station master’s office and report to the puzzled man “Railway Uncle mein mere mama se bichhad gaya. My name is M…. and my uncle’s name is….”
The station master makes an announcement on the public address system, and my poor uncle who has aged ten years in the short span of thirty minutes rushes into the station master’s office, where he finds me calmly snacking on a Cadburys Five Star sponsored by “Railway Uncle.”
He thanks the station master profusely and the two of us proceed to board the Coromandal Express and I reach the land of my forefathers.
Fifteen days of fun as I visit Madras and Pondicherry, meet my cousins and enjoy the care and affection showered on me by my various uncles and aunts.
1990 and 1991-Both my grandparents die. I miss both of them a void that can perhaps never be filled.
1990-I become class monitor for the first time. The best year of my life at school. Absolute fun and a super class teacher called Mr S.K. Bagchi, for the first time I enjoyed Maths under his guidance and teaching. My father starts his series of contract jobs in the Middle East and leaves for Muscat.
I hit my first fifty in a local club match. For the first time the dadas whom we used to admire sat up and took notice of the little Madrasi kid. Then it was cricket and football everyday. Things came to a point where I would wait for the school bell to ring and I would rush home, dump my bag, drink Bournvita/juice and rush to the cricket ground.
1992-Involved in a fight for the first time, I return home badly bruised. I vow revenge and start practicing kickboxing. No one knows it at home, even today. I train by myself, borrow books from the school library and watch the senior students practicing Taekwondo at school and learn a lot.
Six months to the day I got beaten. I beat the shit out of the gang of four who had humiliated me. Surprisingly we become friends and the GANG is formed.
1994-My elder sister is married and she leaves for Nagpur.
1995-Meet with a serious accident; suffer serious head injuries and miss one whole year of school as I recuperate.
1996-Join a new school La Maternelle, a small and simple school with no pretensions.
1998-Dad sends a letter to my uncle asking him to send me and mother to Tiruvallur, in Tamil Nadu, where he has found a job and decided to settle. I bid goodbye to Calcutta.
May 1, 1998-I land in Chennai, and it has been one hectic journey since then..
April 2002-I complete my higher secondary course.
May 2002—May 2005-Three years of bliss in R.K.M. Vivekanada College, Mylapore, Chennai. English Literature at its best, under the guidance of two of the finest gentlemen I have ever met in my life-Professor K.V. Rao and Professor B. Suresh.
December 2002—2003-Win lots of competitions at various institutions in different events. A team comprising me and my classmate Vikas become a formidable quizzing team. I discover a passion for theatre, and start writing scripts for plays.
February 2004-Another accident and this time ended up in a coma and almost went to the grave. The doctors saved me once again and somewhere during the course of my surgery, I guess there was a bit of self-realization and spiritual enlightenment; as I realized that there is a definite purpose for me being here in this world, in this life, in this form.
May 2005-My first corporate job, which I landed after a campus placement program, as I join Sify as an Instructional Designer. Meet a fascinating set of people and made some friends.
January 2007-I land my second job and quit it in April 2007.
May 2007-I land my third job.
May 2008- I write the Indian Civil Services Preliminary Examinations.
August 2008-I am currently on my third job. In all due probability will be leaving it soon to prepare for the next batch of examinations.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Forever
He stood in front of her house.
Waiting for her,
Hoping she would come out,
At least look at him from the window.
He waited, but in vain.
She had left him,
Far away from him;
Perhaps never ever to return.
He was sad,
He wondered-“You could have at least told me that you are leaving.”
She had left the city.
But she would remain-
In his heart.
Forever……
DASHAVTHARAM
Surprisingly I liked the movie, remember I liked it, I did not enjoy it. The review starts on that somber note.
Ten characters, ten roles, a chance for Kamal to surpass Shivaji Ganeshan’s masterpiece Navarathri , an attempt in which he fails.
The characters are as follows:
Rangarajan Nambi-A twelfth century Vaishnavite priest.
Dr. Govindraj-A bio-technologist.
Vincent Poovaraghavan-A dalit leader and social activist.
Fletcher-A rogue C.I.A. agent.
Balaram Naidu-An Indian intelligence officer.
Krishnaveni Patti-An old lady, playing Asin’s grandmother.
Kalifullah Khan-A tall Pathan
Avtaar Singh-A Punjabi singer.
Shingen Narahasi-A Japanese martial arts expert
George Bush.
The story starts with a Chozha king asking Nambi to bow to Lord Shiva and chant the name of Lord Shiva. Nambi refuses, he is tied to the idol of Lord Vishnu and is drowned in the sea.
A chemical weapon is about to be sold to an international terrorist organization. Govindraj steals it and is chased by Fletcher and his moll Mallika Sherawat.
They reach India in pursuit of Govind. The vial containing the chemical is hidden in a panchaloha idol of Perumal and the pace of the movie quickens. Plots bring in the other characters and the story has a predictable end with Fletcher dying.
Balram Naidu and Vincent Poovaraghavan are the two characters that stand out.
The tsunami sequence is done well, but an amateurishly animated shark does not do justice to the fact that millions were spent on the special effects.
It is like Kamal has donned cheap masks to portray the different characters.
Avtaar Singh suffering from laryngeal cancer, and a bullet taking the cancerous growth out. Well that is a scene out of Captain Vijaykant’s movie, you do not expect to see such stuff in Ullaganayagan’s movies.
All that Asin does in the movie is cry out”Aiyyo En Perumalae….”
The music is a big letdown. “Mukunda Mukunda” is the only song worth mentioning. They spent crores in making a movie, couldn’t Aascar Ravichandran get a decent music score.
Mallika’s dance for the frontbenchers is something that the family audience will not appreciate. I saw this movie in a theatre in Chennai, a bunch of boys probably in their sixth or seventh standard were seated in the row in front and well were glued to Mallika’s antics. I guess T.V. has much sleazier stuff so perhaps no harm done.
The biggest plus point for the movie would be the set design. The temple at the beginning, the White House, the training school in Tokyo, they look brilliant.
I enjoyed Michael Madana Kamarajan; that was a gem of a movie; brilliant screenplay, superb comedy, no ghostlike makeup, superb songs, and a climax that is still unmatched for its combination of action and comedy.
Overall rating–It is sad but I am not going to rate this movie. It is a movie that could have been much better, it has its fair share of thrills, but for a hardcore fan of Kamal–it is a disappointment.