Postpone postpone it till tomorrow
Today I am busy
Taking it little too easy
Disbelief. Indifference. Feigned Ignorance
And a sleeping conscience
Postpone postpone it till tomorrow
Today is busy
Tomorrow is heavy with weight
Let it be tomorrow
Oh let it be tomorrow!
Flying agains't the wind
Must be one of the best days of my life…
I went to see the Cannes Ad Fest show reel 08’. Wearing what clothes I wore to office. Err…slightly embarrassing. Well that’s an understatement.
My entire team was there. We waited to catch up with Rati on the way. And still we couldn’t keep up with Baliram flying Rati’s Honda City. Lost once, we had to take another route to the venue. Within that short way to Maurya Sheraton there was a lover’s tiff, lots of momo hogging at Chanakyapuri, Manmeet coming in a rocking new red car etc. As if that was not entertainment enough for the day we came to know at the venue that one pass admitted only one. As we were figuring out what to do, Bugga sir came to our rescue and we were in, in no time.
Starters started, drinks started, hobnobbing starting, and the show started. It seems I was one of the few people who saw the entire presentation. Met Proma inside.
Most ads were obscure stuff. I simply loved the Amnesty International Ads, the Yellow pages ad, and the Nike woman – Dance. They were some ads. There was apna desi gum ad too.
As for improving my PR skills, sorry to say nothing happened on that front. Just met a classmate. Rest of the K – Factor gang caught up by the time the presentation was ending. And of course everyone looked really nice as they had come from home spending a couple of hours in front of the mirror.
Food was pretty decent. But as usual I couldn’t enjoy much because I was already full having been quite generous to the starters...chicken something something. Deserts were yumm though, especially the Blueberry cheese cake and Kheer.
Heard later that both Chennai and Delhi IPL teams were at the hotel. Some of my colleagues saw them. But wait what takes the cake is how I came home. On a bike. Sharad dropped me home. Complete bliss racing against the wind. Looking at the deep azure sky above just when a jet was flying in the opposite direction. I stretched out my hand to reach out to the plane which looked so puny from below and yet so powerful.
As it went away I felt it took me up on a journey of fame, of the unknown…
I don’t think I will ever forget this moment in my life.
Very conveniently I forgot the way, me being bad with roads and al. We finally spent some more time on road.
I went to see the Cannes Ad Fest show reel 08’. Wearing what clothes I wore to office. Err…slightly embarrassing. Well that’s an understatement.
My entire team was there. We waited to catch up with Rati on the way. And still we couldn’t keep up with Baliram flying Rati’s Honda City. Lost once, we had to take another route to the venue. Within that short way to Maurya Sheraton there was a lover’s tiff, lots of momo hogging at Chanakyapuri, Manmeet coming in a rocking new red car etc. As if that was not entertainment enough for the day we came to know at the venue that one pass admitted only one. As we were figuring out what to do, Bugga sir came to our rescue and we were in, in no time.
Starters started, drinks started, hobnobbing starting, and the show started. It seems I was one of the few people who saw the entire presentation. Met Proma inside.
Most ads were obscure stuff. I simply loved the Amnesty International Ads, the Yellow pages ad, and the Nike woman – Dance. They were some ads. There was apna desi gum ad too.
As for improving my PR skills, sorry to say nothing happened on that front. Just met a classmate. Rest of the K – Factor gang caught up by the time the presentation was ending. And of course everyone looked really nice as they had come from home spending a couple of hours in front of the mirror.
Food was pretty decent. But as usual I couldn’t enjoy much because I was already full having been quite generous to the starters...chicken something something. Deserts were yumm though, especially the Blueberry cheese cake and Kheer.
Heard later that both Chennai and Delhi IPL teams were at the hotel. Some of my colleagues saw them. But wait what takes the cake is how I came home. On a bike. Sharad dropped me home. Complete bliss racing against the wind. Looking at the deep azure sky above just when a jet was flying in the opposite direction. I stretched out my hand to reach out to the plane which looked so puny from below and yet so powerful.
As it went away I felt it took me up on a journey of fame, of the unknown…
I don’t think I will ever forget this moment in my life.
Very conveniently I forgot the way, me being bad with roads and al. We finally spent some more time on road.
Flashback
It’s like traveling in time a few years back. Life lived. Engulfing me in dust covered shelves and dishevelled cupboards. Where does the past live? Where? A patch of green land which was free of moss last year? Or the next window where someone else lived. And now is inhabited by curious faces who look at me as if I am the outsider.
Why does change always change you? Why is there a new building on the field I used to play? So many mobile snatchings, chain snatchings. Old engagements breaking to form new weddings. Why does life move on? Why do juniors grow taller than you? Why do they take my place in my college? Why is my friend getting married? Why is my room no more my room? Why are all things paralyzed in my room? As if with my absence they too have become immobile. Why doesn’t mom keep my stuff clean? I only told her not to throw my stuff away. Why is my room treated like a common lobby? Where are my childhood friends? Where are the silly games?
Where have the idyllic days disappeared? Why can’t I wear the blue uniform and have 7 Rs worth veg chow and Rs 20 chicken roll?
Past maybe past, it still lives in the present sometimes. Despite the Vishals, Big Bazaars of the world. Fancy bazaar is still fancy and Maligaon is Maligaon. We still meet the old people with a few new faces interspersed. Jubeen still sings in Bihu. Only difference is this time he came on stage as early as 10 pm. I still call my friends in the middle of the night from my fathers phone – Reliance to Reliance and silently keep the phone back in its place in the wee hours of the morning.
It still rains cats and dogs. There are more posters around the city. There is a News Live – news without compromise and there is Big FM, Gupshap and SFM and there are is CCD right next to Dighalipukhuri, there are multiplexes….
Why does change always change you? Why is there a new building on the field I used to play? So many mobile snatchings, chain snatchings. Old engagements breaking to form new weddings. Why does life move on? Why do juniors grow taller than you? Why do they take my place in my college? Why is my friend getting married? Why is my room no more my room? Why are all things paralyzed in my room? As if with my absence they too have become immobile. Why doesn’t mom keep my stuff clean? I only told her not to throw my stuff away. Why is my room treated like a common lobby? Where are my childhood friends? Where are the silly games?
Where have the idyllic days disappeared? Why can’t I wear the blue uniform and have 7 Rs worth veg chow and Rs 20 chicken roll?
Past maybe past, it still lives in the present sometimes. Despite the Vishals, Big Bazaars of the world. Fancy bazaar is still fancy and Maligaon is Maligaon. We still meet the old people with a few new faces interspersed. Jubeen still sings in Bihu. Only difference is this time he came on stage as early as 10 pm. I still call my friends in the middle of the night from my fathers phone – Reliance to Reliance and silently keep the phone back in its place in the wee hours of the morning.
It still rains cats and dogs. There are more posters around the city. There is a News Live – news without compromise and there is Big FM, Gupshap and SFM and there are is CCD right next to Dighalipukhuri, there are multiplexes….
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