Chandru, the knife.
Check this out – neat little game in which you throw a knife at celebrities and score points. It’s – ummm – easy to ‘accidentally hit’ the celebs themselves. Britney, poor girl. Died in the second shot.
Knifethrow2
My score – 1500.
[via Samantha Burns]
As yet untitled
One of the lousiest things to tell a copywriter is ‘A picture is worth a 1000 words’. Lousy, for that line lost its significance after the first four uses, plus a writer can always get back, saying, ‘See, it took you 7 words to say that’. Pointless.
So, what I am going to attempt here is, paint a picture with my words. Paint a picture, with broad strokes and narrow ones. Paint a picture which adequately shows you, in words, how good my holiday was.
But, first
Disclaimer:I work for Interface Communications. It’s an advertising agency, with offices across India. One of our clients is Club Mahindra Holidays. My job is to write the Club Mahindra ads. This post is about my holiday in, and what I experienced at a Club Mahindra property. It might be construed as advertising. And it is. (Except, I am not being paid for it.) I advice you take the post with a pinch of salt. A rather largish pinch, I might add.
Warning: This promises to be rather long and rambling and meandering and pointless post. Just like my holiday was. Except the long part. Except the meandering part. Except the pointless part.
You work. And you go home, sleep a few hours. And get back to work. It’s not too bad an existence, for you do what you like to do. But, every so often, it gets so that you want a little time away. You decide that you want a few days away from the city, away from buses belching black goo and cycles cutting figure 8’s right in front of you and flashy cars belting rather inane songs in the hope it makes the inmates look cool.
So you sit down and plan a list of things to do, and a place to do them all in. One of the things you definitely want to do is read. And perhaps, take in a little bit of that precious commodity – pure air. That’s right, all that talk about unadulterated oxygen, up in the hills, untouched by human and other hands.
One of the things you also want to do is add to the list of places you can claim you’ve seen. You want to be able to tell friends that, yes, in-fact, you’ve actually travelled across this little piece of land called South India. And yes, you really have been to Kerala. Forget for a moment that Munnar is more Tamil than it is Kerala.
(Aside: Notice the rather subtle way I brought in the point of the post in the above paragraph? That’s why, I am the best darn writer in this world. And perhaps, even in other worlds.)
So, you finally have a place to go to, and a reason to justify it too. It’s complimentary. Somebody else is paying for it. In essence, while there is no such thing as a free lunch, there is a free holiday. You begin preparing for the holiday. You wind up all your free-hanging threads. You e-mail all your friends, gloating about the days of fun coming up. In short, you prepare to leave the world, albeit for very few days.
Thus far, referring back to my analogy of the painting, I have described the frame which holds the masterpiece we, I, will create. Let me roll up my sleeves, flex my arms a bit and get down to the actual job.
Imagine, if you will, a land that, at first gently, later rather steeply, rising up from the plains. Imagine, also, lumbering clouds, rolling mists and trees in a shade of green not seen ever.
Hang on to this picture, then, till tomorrow. For that is when we will resume the story.
Amnesia. Refreshed
When you’ve said all you wanted to say, are the words you know forgotten?
Selective Amnesia Services Ltd.
Here are a few services and products that Selective Amnesia Inc. will eventually provide.
- Rebound Boyfriend services: My ego is vast, unbound and limitless. Whatever little dent it might suffer from being the second choice boyfriend will be negligible. Especially because I have enough experience in this field. I will console you, buy you copious amounts of coffee/ice cream and help heal your poor soul back to normal. In return, you will promise to read my blog and comment on 4-5 posts. That should in return patch up that above-mentioned dent.
- Chamchagiri services: I do best what others already do. I rarely lead. I follow trends. So, here’s how I make money of it. I will gladly be your chamcha. And I have the right pedigree too – according to a certain Eunuch Nilu, I am one of Nilu’s chamchas. You must agree that’s quite a certification. In return for my chamchagiri services, you will link to me as often as possible on your blog, and every once in a while, call me the expert on Copywriting and advertising.
- Ego Massager: As previously noted, I have a vast and unlimited ego. And I discovered why. Chandrachoodan is good for the ego. All kinds. So, for a small fee, I will make you feel immensely better about yourself. I will take you to heights of self-importance and self-esteem. Almost enough to give you vertigo. My celebrity clientele of A List Bloggers will vouch for my expertise in this area.
- Blogospheric Void Filler This product, from Selective Amnesia Labs, will identify upcoming voids in the desi and other blogospheres and aim to fill it. With winning concepts such as PutVote.com You think I am kidding, but I really mean it. BVF is the future of the ‘sphere.
Bonus post for the day
The Wikipedia features my favourite dynasty on its main page. All hail the Cholas
India’s first Chennaiosexual
YT declares, beginning today, the Metrosexual fad is old horse. From today, we will celebrate Chennaiosexual. (Motto: No! Chennai DOES NOT HAVE SEX. SEX IS BAD. WE JUST WATCH MIDNIGHT MASALA ON SUNTV). The Chennaiosexual combines impeccable business wear with rather deplorable choice of shirts and footwear. Chennaiosexualism is all about combinations. Bad combinations, that is. And, to launch this face, er, phase of fashion, let YT present to you Exhibit 1. Mr. NorthIndian in Chennai.
This person is either of the Rajasthani or Gujarati stock, but has a bit of the Telegu blood in him. He was spotted today, the 16th of October, 2006, at the Radhakrishnan Salai outlet of Saravana Bhavan. In the company of three friends, in rather boring T-shirts and jeans. Old fashioned plebians, no doubt.
Our Man had on him a crisply cut, well tailored blazer in a shade of grey that is right at home in the boardroom. Trousers of the same colour and finish. And for the perfect contrast – shockingly pink shirt. Said pink shirt had, please sit down and drink a glass of water for you will not believe me but it is true and I swear all my reputation on it again please sit down and prepare yourself for it, white floral patterns.
That’s right. Crisp, grey suit. With pink, floral shirt. But, ironically, to crown the whole thing – shoes.
Said Chennaiosexual chose to adorn his feet with sandal coloured shoes with silver trimmings.
Fortunately, YT didn’t have a camera on his person. And thus, the world has been denied, thankfully, of pictorial evidence of the birth of a new era in fashion. To compensate, YT has decided to write boringly long sentences with one two many (get it?) puns, and the word ‘of’. YT, also fortunately, didn’t have the world famous Wildlife photographer S.U Saravanakumar, who is currenly in Bristol, on call. YT, no matter how hard he tries, has to concede that he can never write as well as these people, and hence S.U Saravanakumar is a luxury he will be denied.
YT feels that this post has been dragged far beyond its natural elasticity will allow. And no matter how much he tries to induce humour into a rather boring post, he knows that it is futile. And will at best invite a puke from the Pukemaster. (Motto: I’m the pastmaster on pukes. I am the best, because nobody else has claimed that title)
Oh, hell.
About
Chandrachoodan Gopalakrishnan is a copywriter, photographer and goofball from Chennai. He is also an archaeologist, historian and a city lover. He is currently a documentary film-maker and desk-monkey for a film production house.
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