How sweet!

"These candies appear tempting, i plan to flick coupla them"(a bunch of toffees which would remind you of those 3-year-olds running across the field in the hues of electric blue, pink and yellow)
"well! they're all expired, i believe"
"oh, so why are they are here?( boss, we're at a candy manufacturer's boardroom, what else do you expect?)
"you know the country is facing a strong economic recession and may be the client has something in mind", says the servicing chick with an einstein look on her face.
ha ha ha... (bosses are always known for their amazing sense of humour)
"huhaaaaaf past three", i say it in a musical yawn only to conceal my dumb silence.
"our stuff is great, i hope we sell them this time round", meanwhile i am told, " i expect you to be 'sweet' to the client which means speak as little as you can".
yes boss!
...............................................................
"and here is the mind-numbing, eye-grabbing, scintiallting, oh so riveting(while the client is lost in checking out vivek oberoi, semi-nude in the thought blurb)..........................unimaginably witty creative"

SFX: drum rolls out

"it's nice, it's naughty(no the brand is not the pink nokia phone priyanka chopra is promoting), its cheeky too", replies the client biting her lips(she must have gone in the pool as well!!!)

but.......my only concern is it's not 'sweet'
i grin at the boss innocently(note- i'm still mum)
"Ms.. i beg to interrupt, but the brief was 'funnnnnnnnnn"( trying hard not to concentrate on the remark, the servicing chic just made)
"but you must remember at the end of the day the purpose of our product is to spread sweetness", replies the client
(and crash them into inconsolable diabetes, you fuck-face, i have to speak! in my head of course.)

"'i think our personal favourite is this route"", said in chorus( i wonder if these servicin chicks have been sleeping together or what)
the client seems to ignore that as always

The next creative is presented, "It;s a story of a guy.....and see the title of this story is 'how sweet'', while i grin away to glory
"well now you have no reasons to complaint i presume", making it clear obvious that i am the writer on this.
"hahaaa, this is funny", the client looks at me.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa- the servicing chics in chorus again
and i am smiling sweetly to the former ofcourse.
(by now the boss has gone into an identity crisis)
"hmmm...,
i think my fellow here would like to sleep over the idea, and get back to you", curtly says the client
"now what should i give you?", shrieks the servicin chick in her usual tone
"may be an expensive bed and pink sheets", winks the other one.

hahaha, " you know what's the scene on this Dubai film, i think.."
"oh come now you;re digressing from the agenda madum", snaps the servicing at the client.
(while i am saved from visualising the client on those pink sheets with oberoi now, i would choose Obama, not that twain have a remotest co-relation here)

"alright then ladies and 'a gentleman', we shall get back to you in the evening", quite evidently the client seems to has given up on morons like us.
meanwhile i checked my watch it was 4.30 already.
"sure, it was nice meeting you today" (servicin, i heard you guys complaining of cranky clients who call you for a job meeting every hour)

as the meeting comes to its finale, i said "ok then, hope you have a good sleep", sweetly.
followed by a ROFL by the client and a mourning back in office.

arrival on the job

There;s no particular reason for this errand, i'm not in love, neither embracing any kind of suicidal tendency. For advertising is much virile than either of it. You create advertisements for a condom when you;re a virgin( not that i seemingly proclaim a sense of pride in sharing this fact) and jeopardize some shady brand of toothpaste, fortunately eluded to the neighbourhood guinea pig. Which also includes advertising yourself, in the most inane manner, for all it's required to become a copywriter is the thick line of delimited insanity you've vaulted in your life. With due offence to my Creative director, who signed me in for my dotty travails, i redeem a sense of cockiness to write this blog, as a dedication to him and the fancied world of advertising.



A for 'arbit', happens to be the seismic 'A' in advertising, for those who have a nano clue about this, are more than welcomed to apply in my agency (for details contact ogilvy.com). Henceforth you remain in partial dementia for dictionary.com fails ruthlessly to squeal the word. Once you managed to enlighten yourself, you;re more than kicked to use it for nearly 189 ads you study in a span of seven days. i fetched well, with a whooping 167.



one must comply to the statutory of steering away from 'cliches', until this statement becomes one or you're diagnosed with Chronic Otitis Media Eustachian. Think out of the box, in a par miniature of a box sized room. Did i say room?? how scathingly i forgot i'm yet to have one and so remains applicable to my immediate boss, and his boss and and so on and so forth.



If advertising is my living i must sustain to the best of my gaming. and please we aren't talking about corrosive mind games . The first week, was spent in learning the quirky Quake3, a remedial truancy, to spurt the angst against your boss, in a multiple arena by simple firing and gun loading, as a curative preparation to my forthcoming days in the agency, how i wish i could master.



There weren't many rules to learn, but to break as much as you can. Which distinctively means, no official working hours, where a 'meeting at 4.30' doesn't not specifically imply 4.30 pm, and nothing is more fetching than a sound sleep at 17'c under your very own workstation after some delirious brainstorming. Which reminds me the word happens to 'b' of advertising. brainstorming is the unofficial term used for literal vandalism, an hour of impetuous stone pelting at your ideas, not quite solely yours though.



Thereby the pelting ends, till you feel the quintessential Napolean in you, and succumb to your cerebral futility. rejoicing this occultism for days and more days to come. All this and much more rheotricalness has become a part of my daily fanning, and i have quite certainly have began to slurp this wordsworth community. After all here we don't just beautify our lies, metaphysically bombard the reality, snipe our bosses(quite virtually), revamp the deep frozen briefs, battle some ego quarrels but also create- a never heard before, mind numbing, breath-taking, extraordinarily smart brand name for a tomato ketchup.saucy nevertheless.