Friday 21 December 2007

We were asked to write a “Contemporary love poem” for MICA interview -


Tulips failed to bloom my love
Diamonds only won her smirk
Gucci purses didn’t fill my love
Nor candlelit dinners spark desire

I tried my best but the more I did,
The farther away she moved from me.
Defeated and broken, I wrote a poem.
She smiled, took my hand & said –

Love, my sweet fool, is worth more than this

You don’t need daddy’s MasterCard

This she sealed with a kiss.

-------
(there's more..)

Unfortunately, for mankind and me
There is yet a woman to say this shit
I calmly wake up and brush my teeth.


Monday 10 December 2007

Hair I am..this is me!


Some people can go to any lengths to get a job done right.

Yes, I am speaking about myself. Over the past few months, I’ve made
a fairly good mark in advertising. My boss, however, would prefer calling it a dent in advertising. I’d learned the ropes of the trade and was willing to handle any Kingfisher Swimsuit Calendar Assignments.

Although I appeared a perfectionist, deep down I realized that to be a successful Copywriter, there was still one area of improvement – Long Hair.

Yes, I’d seen it on T.V. All the great ad-men whom I idolized had long hair – Prahalad kakkar and umm…there is... whatsisname…. Never mind. Even our ex-President Abdul Kalam had long hair. Not to mention our current President Mrs. Pratibha Patil.

So, two months back I bid adieu to the barber’s clipper and embarked on a mission of epidermis proportion. Cost-cutting on haircuts only to comb the funds for shampoo and hair-oil.

Move over Rapunzel, this is my Hairy-tale.

Seeing my long-locks, concerned friends asked me “Why?” and I replied “Why Knot?”. Some even commented they resembled Sallu from "Tere Naam
". It takes a person of strong will power to control the urge of yanking his own hair on hearing such profanity.

The family, however, was a pillar of support - My mom, jubilant, that her son would carry the legacy of Prajapati women - their hairloom. My brother said I’d never looked so mane-ly. And dad was proud of me for finally putting my head to some good use.

But I was doing this only for the love of advertising. Here are some excerpts of a future job interview conjured in my hairy head:
----------
Ad-Guru – I don’t see much in your portfolio but I see volumes of potential in your head.

Hair-boy – Thank you, Sir. I am willing to get to the root of any issue.

(The Ad-Guru proceeds to measure the hair length with a measuring tape)

Ad-Guru – I am sorry but your hair length is 2 inches short of our requirement. Please try again after 2 months.

(Hair-boy rejected but not dejected goes for the next interview to – a Rock Band!)
------------

As I said in the beginning, “some people can go to any lengths to get a job done right”. In my case, it is the length of my hair. If you are a true friend, don’t ridicule me for this blog. Rather, recommend a good hair-conditioner.

Sunday 30 September 2007

Title..hmmmm

Sometimes life hits us with a cruel tragedy that is hard to recover from. I was not prepared for what I was about to witness. Cold sweat dripped as my fingers inconsolably tried to type and figure some logical explanation to all this.

I logged into my Orkut account only to stare at "Your profile views yesterday - 1". One?? I understand that over the past few weeks my networking had dwindled but this didn’t make sense. Sure, I hadn’t stayed in touch, called anyone, or responded to previous scraps but not scrapping me was pure selfishness.

Ok, I can overlook the fact that no one scrapped, but not visiting my profile??!!

It was a black Friday for me, outside though a bright Wednesday. I saw only two options:

1) Act mature and forget about it.
2) Scrap everyone I knew and everyone I didn’t.

I did number 2 on testosterone.

Known rarely as a man of action, even I surprised myself with the dexterity in scrapping my unsuspecting & hapless “Friends”. With a quick “Hi, wassup”, subtle “Helloooo Gorgeous” and a carefree “You want my friendship?” I tried to erase this stain from my system (computer & mind). Hoping that some of my “Friends” would view my profile and take the daily body count to a humbling 38.

Tomorrow, I would reap the fruits of my damage control measures. Bring a smile to the man in the mirror. Make amends for others mistakes. Tomorrow is mine.

Sure life can be a B and throw you a lemon. You just need to make a lemonade. Don’t forget to top it with gin & ice. When you do, SCRAP ME!

Saturday 11 August 2007

Second Job, First Day.


Having successfully failed at everything else, I was more than qualified to run the oval office. But running the oval office on a tourist visa involved a lot of running. So, I ran in the fading footsteps of preceding failures and joined an Ad agency -Idola Fori as a trainee copywriter/client service thingy.

I still remember the day, 10th Aug 07 - today.

Excitement tapped in my foot as I floored the car accelerator to my new office. It was a cozy place with the most breath taking view. My Creative Director (CD) gave me a tour of the two buildings, from which you could see Golconda Fort. I expected to see organized chaos but was pleasantly surprised with the serene atmosphere. The office decided to do away with the usual garland and teeka ceremony and instead welcomed me by staring into their monitors. Being aware of my critical role in the organization, the HR gave me a Notebook!!! (Toshibas were out of stock, so I had to settle for a Lepakshi). The CD, later, walked me through the hierarchy of an ad agency.

It was noon... I was still on their payroll. Morale booster! Well, everyone was too busy with their work to fire me. I had time to kill and tummy to fill, so I had lunch with a few colleagues. The caterer served Hot Parathas with Rajma and 2nd course was rajma chawal….Ahh…A way to a man’s heart..!!!

BUZZZZ….HEART ATTACK:

Siesta was substituted with doodling on the PC. Yahoo chat was replaced by scanning ads of existing clients. Ok..ok, I had fun doing it but you can’t rob a man’s 40 wink and expect him not to be vocal.

Anyways, long blog short - TGIF, I was home by 6:30 pm while humming Sting's- Brand New Day. To be honest, I don’t think I have Monday morning blues :)

Saturday 30 June 2007

My First Love


An ode to thee, I sing sans glee!

I still remember the first time we met.
You matched my genes: The levis, I mean.

As we embarked on our journey, my foot in thee.
The only thing in between were socks till knee.

We’ve been through thick and through thin
Not to mention- dog poop and chicken chow mien.

You bore the shocks, this journey threw.
I blissfully unaware, while time just flew.

Watch your step, you seemed to say
As I continued to tread on poop each day.

We’ve had our difference about roads to take.
Sometimes even about the socks I wear.

We’ve grown apart, both you and I
I thought you stunk but so did I

I march in you, to the store nearby.
Little do you know, it’s a *kiss goodbye.

For some, it’s Scooty Pep.
And others, it’s the girl next door
But I declare to all who care,
My First Love were a pair of Nike Air.

------------------------


*Metaphorically speaking. No shoes were actually kissed in the making of this poem.

Nike & Sons do not subscribe to any of the blogger’s/jogger’s views. If you feel like flagging this as inappropriate, we say – Just Do It.



The truth shall set you free!

The truth shall set you free…

Now I don’t know if that was the reason but 29th of June 07 was the day IVY set a bunch of its employees free. To put it in a nutshell, the reason stated in the pink slip inferred - Meltdown of operations in one of its strategic locations. The company, on its part, was kind enough to have given the notice 6 months in advance.

And so we came on that fateful (fruitful - monetarily speaking) day to receive the golden handshake. A big queue outside the manager’s office greeted visitors, assuring that employees were just as eager to be fired as the company was to fire them. An even bigger queue of men gathered near the admin. office where a couple of pretty girls from Red Bull were handing out free drinks – Boys will be boys! Petite girls handing free drinks are usually more beckoning than portly bosses handing farewell letters.

“Hi, I’m thirsty”, I introduced myself; hoping to get a free red bull.
Miss Venezuela smiled, handed a drink and said, “If you are thirsty- drink water. If you are hungry- eat. If you need energy- drink red bull.” She could have won the miss world title with a statement like that.
“As long as it’s free, I’ll take all the energy you’ve got.” I chuckled to myself.
“Do you have any questions?” she enquired as I took a gulp. Your number I thought but answered her with a polite “No, thanks.”

Later, I went into one of the rooms to handover the company stationery. Took a last look at my picture on the ID/swipe card and wondered - God hadn’t just blessed me financially. That picture could sell for a lot on eBay. The HR lady, collecting the stuff, thought otherwise as she flung the ID card into a box with other merchandise. As you’d guess, business acumen was not one of her skill sets.

I joined a few friends trying to navigate within the office minus the ID card. It seemed the only doors that didn’t require access card were the loo (A critical loophole in understanding efficient time management).

Completing the legal formalities, I felt like a brand new divorcee receiving the alimony. All I could think was – yipeeeeee!!!

Before leaving, I paid Miss Venezuela another visit to quench my thirst (for red bull, of course!!). Also, she had a target to meet and I intended to help her reach it (Noble deed, nah??). I got another red bull, no number. (Pretty girls with red lipstick usually render men speechless...ok,ok I am a sissy!)

Oh pray that I be blessed with a job soon or ye continued to be cursed with more such blogs!

On a hind sight, it was great to have worked in a beautiful company in the company of beautiful people. Driving out of the office parking, I glanced through the rear view mirror at the office building and wondered – The circus will not be the same without the jokers!

Friday 25 May 2007

To Blog or not to blog

Hi, my name is Mehul Prajapati. This is my first blog. There isn’t much that bothers me…and I had to pick my nose real deep to find something for you to chew.

Knowing that this blog would appeal to a lot of international audience, let’s use this opportunity to familiarize you with the blogger. Starting with - pronouncing the name of the aforementioned. Agreed, it’s not easy (sapped the first 3 yrs of my life!!) but it’s no rocket science!

Mehul is pronounced –

Me – Hu – L
May – who – le (C'est fran├žais)

Class, let’s have a 2 min recess!

Welcome back ;)

Prajapati is pronounced, hmmm…lets see…”pra” as in…umm..aahhh..eehhh…what the $*#@%

Ahem…if you feel like skipping the last name, that’s fine. But let’s get MEHUL right. Just so we don’t make a jackass of it/him.

The above scribble may not exactly win me the booker prize for blogging but I am only aiming for the Kalidas Samman. The background color should win me extra brownie points.

C u around?