I just happened to see the new "Amul Macho" ad on T.V right now and it makes me want to barf . I mean what was going on in the minds of the guys who wrote out this ad...are they so intellectually challenged to actually believe that women ( whatever strata of society they come from)actually get turned on while washing a man's underwear and that too one that has leggings ???? Hey guys, hand washing any grown man's under wear is one of the most disgusting jobs that can be done...and it does not cause any kind of erotic feeling....all that it causes is irritation.
I hope that some one in authority wakes up and bans this ad immediately. For that matter ads by Axe and some "Set Wet" or something also should be banned it not only insults their target audience (adolescent teenagers in all probability ) but it insults us our intelligence too. It bugs me to think e that there are well-paid ad execs out there who belive that they can convince people that women fling themselves at a man who smells like a bottle of vodka or who applies liquid wax on his hair in order to resemble Don Corleone !
I am still on the look out for an ad targetted at men which focuses on the things that a man can expect out of his life beyond sex and dumb demented women...the Raymonds Ad's do a good job.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Pages from the Past
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Last Saturday, we went to watch "The Namesake" .
I was pleasantly surprised to find that for a change that I was not disappointed with a much hyped film. I enjoyed reading the book mainly for it's simple story
narrated with simplcity and sensitivity. I liked Jhumpa Lahiri's ability to look at an "ordinary life" and reveal the extra-ordinary wmotions which we tend to overlook at most times.
There is no melodrama anywhere and Ashima Ganguli could have been any lady from our mother's generation and Gogol could have been you or me.
However, this post is not about "The Namesake" but about something else.
All Kolkatans get very excited whenever we see our city being filmed for an international film, even though a number of tem have already been shot here. So when the Namesake was release , we had the newspapers going to town about the palces where the shooting had taken place and the production and acting team from Kolkata talking about their "experiences" whilst working on this film.
What I found repeatedly being mentioned was a shot in the film which showed "The Telegraph" being read in the 1970s , which was a faux pas as "The Telegraph" was launched by the ABP group in the 80's. So what were the Kolkata production team of The Namesake thinking ?
I guess that we can not really blame them . All Kolkatans have taken to the Telegraph (no matter how hard the Times of India tries, it just wont get there), and somewhere down the line, the grand old dame of Kolkata....The Statesman (www.thestatesman.net) has faded into the background.
The credit for my command over English goes to "The Statesamen". At school, I was made to copy out an article from "The Statesman" everyday in order to improve my grammar and my handwriting. I discovered an editor who never hesitated to call a spade a spade in Mr. C.J. Irani and his coloum, 'The Caveat" and a brilliant writer by the name of Hari Ray whose column was sought out with much enthusiasm and read with with much relish every Sunday.
Living on a tea estate in a remote corner of Assam, where newspapers arerived a day later, we looked forward to Mondays when "Miscellany" the Sunday supplement of The Statesman carried an interesting children's page which kept us occuppied for the day.
Sadly , the Statesman today is a shadow of it's former self. With the passing away of Mr. C.J. Irani the paper seems to have become "orphaned" . The quality of newsprint has deteriorated and the standards of journalism have fallen. The language is childish and prone to errors....and yet every morning, we have a copy delivered at home.... you would not turn away an old companion in its darkest hours would you ?
I live in the hope that this paper may be taken over...and the heritage of one of the last living legends of Kolkata would be restored. Are you listening Mr. Sarkar ?
Last Saturday, we went to watch "The Namesake" .
I was pleasantly surprised to find that for a change that I was not disappointed with a much hyped film. I enjoyed reading the book mainly for it's simple story
narrated with simplcity and sensitivity. I liked Jhumpa Lahiri's ability to look at an "ordinary life" and reveal the extra-ordinary wmotions which we tend to overlook at most times. There is no melodrama anywhere and Ashima Ganguli could have been any lady from our mother's generation and Gogol could have been you or me.
However, this post is not about "The Namesake" but about something else.
All Kolkatans get very excited whenever we see our city being filmed for an international film, even though a number of tem have already been shot here. So when the Namesake was release , we had the newspapers going to town about the palces where the shooting had taken place and the production and acting team from Kolkata talking about their "experiences" whilst working on this film.
What I found repeatedly being mentioned was a shot in the film which showed "The Telegraph" being read in the 1970s , which was a faux pas as "The Telegraph" was launched by the ABP group in the 80's. So what were the Kolkata production team of The Namesake thinking ?
I guess that we can not really blame them . All Kolkatans have taken to the Telegraph (no matter how hard the Times of India tries, it just wont get there), and somewhere down the line, the grand old dame of Kolkata....The Statesman (www.thestatesman.net) has faded into the background.
The credit for my command over English goes to "The Statesamen". At school, I was made to copy out an article from "The Statesman" everyday in order to improve my grammar and my handwriting. I discovered an editor who never hesitated to call a spade a spade in Mr. C.J. Irani and his coloum, 'The Caveat" and a brilliant writer by the name of Hari Ray whose column was sought out with much enthusiasm and read with with much relish every Sunday.
Living on a tea estate in a remote corner of Assam, where newspapers arerived a day later, we looked forward to Mondays when "Miscellany" the Sunday supplement of The Statesman carried an interesting children's page which kept us occuppied for the day.
Sadly , the Statesman today is a shadow of it's former self. With the passing away of Mr. C.J. Irani the paper seems to have become "orphaned" . The quality of newsprint has deteriorated and the standards of journalism have fallen. The language is childish and prone to errors....and yet every morning, we have a copy delivered at home.... you would not turn away an old companion in its darkest hours would you ?
I live in the hope that this paper may be taken over...and the heritage of one of the last living legends of Kolkata would be restored. Are you listening Mr. Sarkar ?
Friday, April 6, 2007
My Weekend
As I have decided to call myself the "Weekend Blogger" it is but natural that I should describe what my weekends look like.
The weekend begins with a hang dog expression on my face as I ring the doorbell at home after an hour long commute which consists of sitting through stuck traffic usually caused by a legendary Kolkata Auto(more on this later )..with an irritated impatient cursing, swearing hubby in tow. MIL opens the door and her expression says it all (You are late again... )...I stagger in , fight with the hubby about who gets to use the bath room first (both of us are very possessive about our bathroom and hence none will budge from the stance of using "our" bathroom whilst the second bathroom in the flat lies vacant) .....I lose as usual and wait for my turn. Dinner is spent staring at the latest happenings in the Virani family even though I would love to slap some sense into the characters ....whilst MIL updates the hubby about the latest happenings and who said what to whom and about whom in the family circle during the day (the result of the hours on the telephone...we go to work... MIL goes to the telephone )...and then a deep dreamless sleep knowing that I wont have to go anywhere tomorrow. Temporary Happy Ending.
The alarm goes off at 5.30 am on Saturday morning because I had promised myself that I would go to the gym. Hubby curses/grunts and the alarm is switched off as I drift off to sleep again. Nine a.m , the doorbell rings and I have to drag the trash out and hand it over to the collector. Hubby and MIL don't touch the trash can citing various religious constraints ....my justification that God is the omnipotent creator of everything including trash is met with a cold stare.
Saturday morning goes off in cleaning the fridge,the living room and anything that shows itself up for cleaning...gulp lunch and fall into a death like sleep. Wake up groggy with the joyous realisation that Sunday is still there. Move around the house like a zombie and plonk down either in front of the computer or T.v till end of day.
Sunday - a repeat of Saturday except the focus of cleaning shifts to the bathrooms and cupboards.
On some good days the hubby takes me to the movies....else I go listen to my parents crib.
I am luckier than most people in the sense that the company I work for has a five day working week except for the last week and is one of the main reasons why I am till here. My sister-in-law who lives in the States tells me about the seven week they have there and an ex-college friend was telling me about her killer hours. I wonder what is expected of us at work ....we seem to be turning into machines as we reach out to excel...there seems to be no room for anyone ordinary.
It is ironical that we live in an age when we have access to various modes of transport, entertainment, communication and yet we do not have the time to actually travel to new places for our pleasure, nor do we have the time to spend time with our families at places other than the nearest mall...no parks, lakes or zoos for us we prefer the air conditioned comfort of artificial symbols of our own apparent prosperity ( sounds so heavy ? ) and finally communication...the less said about it the better, hubby and I "talk" on sms (???!!!!)
The weekend begins with a hang dog expression on my face as I ring the doorbell at home after an hour long commute which consists of sitting through stuck traffic usually caused by a legendary Kolkata Auto(more on this later )..with an irritated impatient cursing, swearing hubby in tow. MIL opens the door and her expression says it all (You are late again... )...I stagger in , fight with the hubby about who gets to use the bath room first (both of us are very possessive about our bathroom and hence none will budge from the stance of using "our" bathroom whilst the second bathroom in the flat lies vacant) .....I lose as usual and wait for my turn. Dinner is spent staring at the latest happenings in the Virani family even though I would love to slap some sense into the characters ....whilst MIL updates the hubby about the latest happenings and who said what to whom and about whom in the family circle during the day (the result of the hours on the telephone...we go to work... MIL goes to the telephone )...and then a deep dreamless sleep knowing that I wont have to go anywhere tomorrow. Temporary Happy Ending.
The alarm goes off at 5.30 am on Saturday morning because I had promised myself that I would go to the gym. Hubby curses/grunts and the alarm is switched off as I drift off to sleep again. Nine a.m , the doorbell rings and I have to drag the trash out and hand it over to the collector. Hubby and MIL don't touch the trash can citing various religious constraints ....my justification that God is the omnipotent creator of everything including trash is met with a cold stare.
Saturday morning goes off in cleaning the fridge,the living room and anything that shows itself up for cleaning...gulp lunch and fall into a death like sleep. Wake up groggy with the joyous realisation that Sunday is still there. Move around the house like a zombie and plonk down either in front of the computer or T.v till end of day.
Sunday - a repeat of Saturday except the focus of cleaning shifts to the bathrooms and cupboards.
On some good days the hubby takes me to the movies....else I go listen to my parents crib.
I am luckier than most people in the sense that the company I work for has a five day working week except for the last week and is one of the main reasons why I am till here. My sister-in-law who lives in the States tells me about the seven week they have there and an ex-college friend was telling me about her killer hours. I wonder what is expected of us at work ....we seem to be turning into machines as we reach out to excel...there seems to be no room for anyone ordinary.
It is ironical that we live in an age when we have access to various modes of transport, entertainment, communication and yet we do not have the time to actually travel to new places for our pleasure, nor do we have the time to spend time with our families at places other than the nearest mall...no parks, lakes or zoos for us we prefer the air conditioned comfort of artificial symbols of our own apparent prosperity ( sounds so heavy ? ) and finally communication...the less said about it the better, hubby and I "talk" on sms (???!!!!)
Monday, April 2, 2007
The Week That Was....
I have just survived what is the most stressful, tiring, irritating and yet so very sadistically satifying week in the life of any employee of a life insurance company. The last week of March..when eevery policy issued means a promotion, a trip, a prize...so you can imagine how many people have been ateempting to hold a knife to my throat with the hope that I may be firghtened into acting according to their chose course, but I amsuch a nast nasty creature who refuses to get scared and who also figures out the under dogs ( I was the first one to confidently predict Bangladesh's win over India !
) and so I gave priority to those nervous first time advisors who hesitantly handed in their first policies and stood in the back ground ...I supported the sales manager who helped me follow rules....and I plucked up the courage to show the finger to the rude, uneecessairly aggressive people and actally sent them to hell.
I have been nasty to nasty people and that has given me a great deal of satisfaction.So there !
I also beagan this week by promissing to eat healthy ...and only from my own luch box (and any one else's provided it had home-cooked food
) but I ended up gorging on sizzlers form Peter Cat, some vague food from Marco Polo and "n" number of burgers from KFC and Mcdonalds.
By friday , this was how we were talking to each other at work:
P.S If this post seems a bit garbled..it is but normal....can barely keep my eyes open !
) and so I gave priority to those nervous first time advisors who hesitantly handed in their first policies and stood in the back ground ...I supported the sales manager who helped me follow rules....and I plucked up the courage to show the finger to the rude, uneecessairly aggressive people and actally sent them to hell.
I have been nasty to nasty people and that has given me a great deal of satisfaction.So there !
I also beagan this week by promissing to eat healthy ...and only from my own luch box (and any one else's provided it had home-cooked food
) but I ended up gorging on sizzlers form Peter Cat, some vague food from Marco Polo and "n" number of burgers from KFC and Mcdonalds.
By friday , this was how we were talking to each other at work:
P.S If this post seems a bit garbled..it is but normal....can barely keep my eyes open !
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