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I have written for various reputed Newspapers,Magazines and Websites including The Hindu, Rediff,JAM etc.
I write mainly in the areas of Humor,Business/Marketing,Fiction and general articles.
THE HINDU
- The spectrum allocation fight
- The IPO
- Sub prime crisis
- mobile number portability
- FDI in retail
- rupee appreciation
- Twenty twenty case
JAM
Please contact me (See contacts tab) for any articles you want written.
Regards,
Srinath
Vannakam!!!
I assume that you have taken the trouble to come to this page that you would want to know something about me.
1)Where are you from?
I am a mongrel.Born in Chennai,brought up in Hyderabad and worked in more Indian cities than I can count.And before you ask me,I have not gone onsite yet.
2)Are you educated?
Silly question.I have an engineering degree in Electrical but would be hard pressed to even state Ohms law.I suffer from a poor memory and wandering concentration.I also somehow picked up an MBA in Marketing.
3) Do you live off your parents?
No I dont(though occasionally I take pocket money from them). I earn my own bread and sambhar and rasam.I work in an IT Company in Chennai.(Dont we all?)
4) Do you do anything of note other than eating and sleeping?
Oh yes.Lots of things.I also drink water,laze around,watch TV etc.Seriously I do have my hobbies which include Reading,writing,rock,travelling,photography,cricket etc.Yes I am a jack of all trades.
5) Why do you write Humour pieces?
My humour articles are an extension of what actually goes on in my mind.I think very similar to how I write.Unfortunately it means that I burst out laughing at inappropriate occasions following my own chain of thoughts.
6) Are you single?
Hahahaha...(rolls on floor) After reading my articles how can you even ask such questions.I am surrounding always by a bevy of scantily clad women.But a good application can always find you a spot.
Parties, Placements and Nostalgia
on Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Note: As B school life draws to a close, my own way of reliving those moments through a series of unrelated incidents in college life, some funny, some poignant and all of them etched forever in my memory.
I am most emphatically not a Party animal. I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke, I dance like an animal in pain, and Punjabi music makes me wince. But for reasons I am not able to fathom, I go to all of the parties in my B School with the devotion of a pilgrim. Maybe it’s because of the money we are forced to contribute to the Party. It is usually a hefty amount, carefully designed to pay for my soft drinks and alcohol in copious amounts for ten other people.
This time I decide that I’m going to take things into my own hands. I decide to make sure I eat and drink my four hundred rupees worth or die trying in the process. I reach nice and early and after pushing out two other people in the line grab the first burger of the evening with a satisfied smile. Only 390 rupees to go, I think to myself.
Thirty minutes later I am looking at my half eaten fourth burger with revulsion. I visit the loo frequently but my body refuses to accept any more Coke. Once I figure out who owes me the remaining Rs. 307.25 ,hell is going to break loose.
The first time I heard the MC, BC word after I landed in Delhi was in a party. I turned around in awe struck shock when I heard it. There have been family feuds and people killed with blunt axes for using such language in my hometown. But something was terribly wrong here. One guy was smiling like he had received the biggest compliment of his life. ”Tu hain BC...”the other guy cooed again in tones of infinite love. They hugged each other after that. While I still don’t use the words myself I have learnt not to wince each time people let loose a string of profanities. In fact I confess I stood before the mirror one time to see how it sounded as I tried yelling the words myself. I had really got going when a saw a face peering at me in some concern through my window.” “God...you must really hate yourself” muttered the witty guy as he walked away. ”BC” I whispered to his retreating back.
Punjabi music is something that never appealed to me.But my friends swear by it. And as for the huge Sardarjis, they spring to instant action. They wave their arms and legs in a frenzy, magically acquiring the wingspan of an albatross as they contrive to knock off your spectacles from impossible angles and distances. And they stamp on our fallen spectacles for good measure, as they try out a particularly interesting dance step.
Placements were five days of total madness. I still remember the first day when all of us were trooping into the seminar room for our group discussions for a particular company .I was walking into the room just behind one of my close friends. Suddenly he decided to bow deeply at the two people from the company. Now I was in a quandary, wondering whether I should bow too in order not to lose my competitive advantage. The company representatives were looking with concern at him wondering whether he was overcome with stomach cramps, so I decided not to. A particularly funny rumor is still going around college about how my friend bowed lower and lower each succeeding day of placements till he succeeding in impressing some company with a particularly fine low bow.
I had seen drunken people before I came to IMT. But the scale and the scope magnified tenfold after I came here. We have some of our parties in the amphitheatre which is very pretty. But with its steep steps, it is not easy for navigation by people who are drinking their tenth pegs of alcohol. I was sitting on those steps and enjoying the music at one of the parties when a body came crashing down face first on my feet. I nearly jumped out of my skin (besides having really sore feet for a couple of days afterwards). After another such party ended I was just getting into bed at 5 am when a knock on the door woke me up. My friend stood clad in a towel. ”Wake me up at 10 am “he said seriously. He looked slightly tipsy so I asked him the reason for getting up early. ”I have to go to the court” he proclaimed proudly. Nonplussed I asked him why. He put on a sinister face. ”Blood blood…..blood everywhere “he suddenly screamed and then ran away. I ran into my room and bolted the door.
There are many kinds of drunken people. Some of them become violent and abusive, some of them become and sleepy and pass out, some of them throw up all over the lobby. One of my close friends became emotional every time he got drunk, remembering all the girls he ever loved and was sobbing madly on my shoulders by his fourth peg,leaving me with a very wet t shirt indeed..
I started washing clothes for the first time here. My friend carefully informed me that we had to soak the clothes in water for some time before washing them, in order to get the layers of dirt out .He neglected to inform me that the clothes should not be soaked for more than a day. I remembered about the clothes I had soaked after five days, when people had started complaining about the odor from the bodies buried under our lobby. I always used the dhobi after that. So much for doing your own work.
I had gone to akshardham temple with a female friend. There was very stringent security, so we had to deposit our bags at the counter. My friend very prettily asked me to carry her bright pink purse and lip gloss with me in my pockets. Overcome by a bout of chivalry I agreed. However I had forgotten something. All of the visitors were searched at the entrance by a security guard. He came up with the lip gloss and pink wallet on me and stepped back in a hurry. I gave him my most ungayish smile I could muster up on the spot. It did not work apparently for he gave my things back from a safe distance.
There were sad moments too. We all loved together, had our hearts broken together, we all cried together. A few of us found love here too.
That reminds me.I have another friend who has been commited to a girl since the last five years.They talk on the phone so much that it has become a joke with all of us.We used to tease him a lot about it daily.One fine day his girl friend had gone for a bath .And my friend called her up at precisely that moment.Another girl picked up the phone."Hello...."my friend cooed in his most lovestruck tone."Who are you?"asked the surprised girl.My poor friend almost hit the roof,confusing her for his girl friend.We spent hours calming him down.
Now the days are drawing to a close with frightening speed. Every time we want to hold on to certain moments they seem to gallop away faster. Now we are going our separate ways. Our paths would cross with certain people, while we would never see others again.
It was more than two years of fun. It was an entire lifetime of memories. Thank you IMT.
I am most emphatically not a Party animal. I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke, I dance like an animal in pain, and Punjabi music makes me wince. But for reasons I am not able to fathom, I go to all of the parties in my B School with the devotion of a pilgrim. Maybe it’s because of the money we are forced to contribute to the Party. It is usually a hefty amount, carefully designed to pay for my soft drinks and alcohol in copious amounts for ten other people.
This time I decide that I’m going to take things into my own hands. I decide to make sure I eat and drink my four hundred rupees worth or die trying in the process. I reach nice and early and after pushing out two other people in the line grab the first burger of the evening with a satisfied smile. Only 390 rupees to go, I think to myself.
Thirty minutes later I am looking at my half eaten fourth burger with revulsion. I visit the loo frequently but my body refuses to accept any more Coke. Once I figure out who owes me the remaining Rs. 307.25 ,hell is going to break loose.
The first time I heard the MC, BC word after I landed in Delhi was in a party. I turned around in awe struck shock when I heard it. There have been family feuds and people killed with blunt axes for using such language in my hometown. But something was terribly wrong here. One guy was smiling like he had received the biggest compliment of his life. ”Tu hain BC...”the other guy cooed again in tones of infinite love. They hugged each other after that. While I still don’t use the words myself I have learnt not to wince each time people let loose a string of profanities. In fact I confess I stood before the mirror one time to see how it sounded as I tried yelling the words myself. I had really got going when a saw a face peering at me in some concern through my window.” “God...you must really hate yourself” muttered the witty guy as he walked away. ”BC” I whispered to his retreating back.
Punjabi music is something that never appealed to me.But my friends swear by it. And as for the huge Sardarjis, they spring to instant action. They wave their arms and legs in a frenzy, magically acquiring the wingspan of an albatross as they contrive to knock off your spectacles from impossible angles and distances. And they stamp on our fallen spectacles for good measure, as they try out a particularly interesting dance step.
Placements were five days of total madness. I still remember the first day when all of us were trooping into the seminar room for our group discussions for a particular company .I was walking into the room just behind one of my close friends. Suddenly he decided to bow deeply at the two people from the company. Now I was in a quandary, wondering whether I should bow too in order not to lose my competitive advantage. The company representatives were looking with concern at him wondering whether he was overcome with stomach cramps, so I decided not to. A particularly funny rumor is still going around college about how my friend bowed lower and lower each succeeding day of placements till he succeeding in impressing some company with a particularly fine low bow.
I had seen drunken people before I came to IMT. But the scale and the scope magnified tenfold after I came here. We have some of our parties in the amphitheatre which is very pretty. But with its steep steps, it is not easy for navigation by people who are drinking their tenth pegs of alcohol. I was sitting on those steps and enjoying the music at one of the parties when a body came crashing down face first on my feet. I nearly jumped out of my skin (besides having really sore feet for a couple of days afterwards). After another such party ended I was just getting into bed at 5 am when a knock on the door woke me up. My friend stood clad in a towel. ”Wake me up at 10 am “he said seriously. He looked slightly tipsy so I asked him the reason for getting up early. ”I have to go to the court” he proclaimed proudly. Nonplussed I asked him why. He put on a sinister face. ”Blood blood…..blood everywhere “he suddenly screamed and then ran away. I ran into my room and bolted the door.
There are many kinds of drunken people. Some of them become violent and abusive, some of them become and sleepy and pass out, some of them throw up all over the lobby. One of my close friends became emotional every time he got drunk, remembering all the girls he ever loved and was sobbing madly on my shoulders by his fourth peg,leaving me with a very wet t shirt indeed..
I started washing clothes for the first time here. My friend carefully informed me that we had to soak the clothes in water for some time before washing them, in order to get the layers of dirt out .He neglected to inform me that the clothes should not be soaked for more than a day. I remembered about the clothes I had soaked after five days, when people had started complaining about the odor from the bodies buried under our lobby. I always used the dhobi after that. So much for doing your own work.
I had gone to akshardham temple with a female friend. There was very stringent security, so we had to deposit our bags at the counter. My friend very prettily asked me to carry her bright pink purse and lip gloss with me in my pockets. Overcome by a bout of chivalry I agreed. However I had forgotten something. All of the visitors were searched at the entrance by a security guard. He came up with the lip gloss and pink wallet on me and stepped back in a hurry. I gave him my most ungayish smile I could muster up on the spot. It did not work apparently for he gave my things back from a safe distance.
There were sad moments too. We all loved together, had our hearts broken together, we all cried together. A few of us found love here too.
That reminds me.I have another friend who has been commited to a girl since the last five years.They talk on the phone so much that it has become a joke with all of us.We used to tease him a lot about it daily.One fine day his girl friend had gone for a bath .And my friend called her up at precisely that moment.Another girl picked up the phone."Hello...."my friend cooed in his most lovestruck tone."Who are you?"asked the surprised girl.My poor friend almost hit the roof,confusing her for his girl friend.We spent hours calming him down.
Now the days are drawing to a close with frightening speed. Every time we want to hold on to certain moments they seem to gallop away faster. Now we are going our separate ways. Our paths would cross with certain people, while we would never see others again.
It was more than two years of fun. It was an entire lifetime of memories. Thank you IMT.
Immortal battles.....
on Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Note: Have you ever felt that you were fighting one of life’s battles where victory seems farther and farther away? That you are facing a faceless, nameless enemy who relentlessly attacks you and does not wilt? That your allies turn into foes and lovers turn into uncaring strangers? But you still want to fight on because you are fighting for what you vehemently believe in? The slim hope of victory spurs you on, scarred body and tormented heart notwithstanding, because it will take you closer to immortality?
Sparks of clashing steel flash across dreary horizons,
Dark shapeless fiends close in .Ah!!!solitary me,
War cries and screams echo in dense night air,
Lonely battle of life I fight, foes outnumber…
Transient faces drift past in endless shadows,
Mutating lovers into uncaring strangers,
Agonies of pain sear flesh, torment soul…
Stare straight ahead; refuse to fall to earth,
Naked defenseless, towering amidst bloody carnage,
Hope fadeth fast, foes spring to life all around,
Closing eyes for one eternal moment,
With a cry of hope, spring forward again.
Strong beliefs spur me on…to imagine
A day when calm skies greet peaceful earth
When I fall with a sigh into arms which love and trust,
Into a land where immortality shall take birth
Sparks of clashing steel flash across dreary horizons,
Dark shapeless fiends close in .Ah!!!solitary me,
War cries and screams echo in dense night air,
Lonely battle of life I fight, foes outnumber…
Transient faces drift past in endless shadows,
Mutating lovers into uncaring strangers,
Agonies of pain sear flesh, torment soul…
Stare straight ahead; refuse to fall to earth,
Naked defenseless, towering amidst bloody carnage,
Hope fadeth fast, foes spring to life all around,
Closing eyes for one eternal moment,
With a cry of hope, spring forward again.
Strong beliefs spur me on…to imagine
A day when calm skies greet peaceful earth
When I fall with a sigh into arms which love and trust,
Into a land where immortality shall take birth
A tribute!!
on Sunday, November 19, 2006
Note:A tribute to my paternal grandfather who passed away last week
Rising Apollo, wide net of light bequeath,
Vanquishing lust of the night darkly,
Scattering life …bright blaze,
Riding noble, across heavens vast moor,
Alas, vanish it does, behind lofty mountain blue,
Oh mighty one, where does thou travel?
Ephemeral spirit…gone are you,but…
Darkness will reign no more
Vanquishing lust of the night darkly,
Scattering life …bright blaze,
Riding noble, across heavens vast moor,
Alas, vanish it does, behind lofty mountain blue,
Oh mighty one, where does thou travel?
Ephemeral spirit…gone are you,but…
Darkness will reign no more
Dreams of Insanity..Rock song lyrics..!!!
on Thursday, November 09, 2006
Note: Writing has been a soul elevator. I have this insane desire to branch out into different genres of writing. I’ve done poetry, anecdotal writing, marketing articles, humor, short stories and some other pretty random stuff.
Another great buttress in my life is rock music. So you know I kinda thought, why not write the lyrics of a rock song. Even though I don’t know the ABC of musical composition, I hope these words are put to music some day.
Theme: A tribute to all romantics who have experienced the joy and the pain of unrequited love. Have you ever wanted to desperately forget a girl, but those recurring dreams make it impossible?
P.S: It’s a rock song for heavens sake. People who complain it is too dark and moody can go and listen to boy band pop!!!
DREAMS OF INSANITY
Lyrics by Srinath
Swirling clouds darken, azure sky no more
Leaden weight of memories, closed eyes bemoan
Drained…The sun travels across...forgetting paradise lost,
Nights creeping hands, the thoughts flood back again
(Chorus)
These dreams of insanity lurking right beneath
Floating petals…Fuelling the fires of desire within
Time refuses to turn…
Following bright dawn’s allure
Running amok…
Eyes wide shut…These dreams…
Follow like a faithful slave
Tossing around...cascading beads of pain evolve
Screaming…shouting…unnerving whispers ask
How can someone who cared now be cold?
Blessed wakefulness frees …
From mirages of days whose scars still sear
(Chorus)
These dreams of insanity lurking right beneath
Floating petals…Fuelling the fires of desire within
Time refuses to turn…
Following bright dawn’s allure
Running amok…
Eyes wide shut…These dreams…
Follow like a faithful slave
I walk alone…clothed in love...
Phoenix reborn, even though only tatters remain...
A thousand scars mark ...this battered soul o’ mine
I will not give in…coz only she can heal
These dreams of Insanity
……These dreams of Insanity
………………These dreams of Insanity
Another great buttress in my life is rock music. So you know I kinda thought, why not write the lyrics of a rock song. Even though I don’t know the ABC of musical composition, I hope these words are put to music some day.
Theme: A tribute to all romantics who have experienced the joy and the pain of unrequited love. Have you ever wanted to desperately forget a girl, but those recurring dreams make it impossible?
P.S: It’s a rock song for heavens sake. People who complain it is too dark and moody can go and listen to boy band pop!!!
DREAMS OF INSANITY
Lyrics by Srinath
Swirling clouds darken, azure sky no more
Leaden weight of memories, closed eyes bemoan
Drained…The sun travels across...forgetting paradise lost,
Nights creeping hands, the thoughts flood back again
(Chorus)
These dreams of insanity lurking right beneath
Floating petals…Fuelling the fires of desire within
Time refuses to turn…
Following bright dawn’s allure
Running amok…
Eyes wide shut…These dreams…
Follow like a faithful slave
Tossing around...cascading beads of pain evolve
Screaming…shouting…unnerving whispers ask
How can someone who cared now be cold?
Blessed wakefulness frees …
From mirages of days whose scars still sear
(Chorus)
These dreams of insanity lurking right beneath
Floating petals…Fuelling the fires of desire within
Time refuses to turn…
Following bright dawn’s allure
Running amok…
Eyes wide shut…These dreams…
Follow like a faithful slave
I walk alone…clothed in love...
Phoenix reborn, even though only tatters remain...
A thousand scars mark ...this battered soul o’ mine
I will not give in…coz only she can heal
These dreams of Insanity
……These dreams of Insanity
………………These dreams of Insanity
Me,Myself and Gymming....
on Monday, October 30, 2006
The following is an account of an insane decision. I decided to join a gym a couple of months back.
Let me introduce myself. I’m a tam Bram. We eat curd rice and are nice people. Exercise is one of the seven deadly sins and involves at the most pressing the buttons of a remote while flipping channels on the television. An intricate math problem? An uninvited discourse on Aristotle? We are the guys. Physical activity..u kidding?
So I was moving into hitherto uncharted territory when I decided to join the gym.
My Mom couldn’t have reacted more strongly if I said I was going to become a nudist. She stared at me open mouthed.” Gym? Do I feed you so that you can go and waste it waste it lifting funny contraptions? What if you become thin?”
One fine day feeling a bit like Christopher Columbus and having pushed my chest out a couple of nonexistent inches I walked into “Bodygrow”. Suitable pictures of men with nonexistent underpants and muscles jutting out at the unlikeliest angles adorned the walls.
All around me I saw big men with funny looking faces lifting a variety of heavy apparatus.
I nervously approached the biggest guy in the place assuming logically that he must be the instructor. He listened to me and critically looked me over frowning and shaking his head.
”LIFT, PUSH, JUMP” he suddenly bellowed.
I jumped out of my skin and nearly hit the ceiling.
Weakly catching on to a treadmill for support I stuttered”w...What?”
“What are you waiting for? Start lifting and pushing and jumping!”He growled.
Forcing my face into what I thought was a grin I backed away.
I was frowning in concentration, straining as I pulled at a weight. I contorted my face into a variety of expressions as I made an effort. Suddenly a hand tapped me from behind. I nearly went face first on the canvas. The abominable instructor man was back.
“Contort your face” He said. Assuming that he was instructing me on the procedures of facial exercise I pulled my face into an ugly distorted angle.
” Look into the mirror, he growled.
I looked, rather pleased at how ugly I had made my face.
“Do you want to be stuck with this face for life?”
Even though I rather thought it would make life exciting to go around with such a face I prudently remained silent.
” Do not contort your face while exercising. The facial muscles could stay that way forever.” He walked away after another of his hammer hits on my back
Suddenly I had a bright idea. I thoughtfully set my face into what I assumed was a handsome, appealing expression, assuming if my face was going to become a certain way due to contortion I would rather it be this face of mine. For the next ten minutes I exercised with that same expression staring straight ahead. With a start I suddenly realized a guy opposite me was staring at me with a strange expression. Suddenly he winked. I slowly straightened out the grin into a normal expression, hoping he would understand that I was not the brokeback mountain kind. Me and my big ideas.
I had no idea that there were girls in my gym till a day when a lovely damsel walked in. As she hopped and jumped in her pink tights I would discretely steal glances . Whenever she was around I would try to do spectacular things like lifting weights I would not normally dream of otherwise.
With what I thought was a spectacular amount of weight on the apparatus I lifted with an almost heroic expression on my face. After repeating it for a couple of times and when my back showed signs of breaking down, I got off the machine patting myself on the back for having suitably impressed the girl. The girl herself walked to the apparatus I had just got off and after clicking her tongue after seeing the weights, she casually added a couple more weights and started working the machine rapidly. When I was walking away with a downcast expression a smothered giggle added to my humiliation.
And yeah the pains. The first day after I had started working out the pains were terrible. The only particular consolation I could think of was that there was no specific spot that pained. It pained if I laughed, it pained when I breathed and damn it, it pained when I tried using the remote too.
It’s been two months now. I wish I had a “before” and “after “picture to show you like the tele shopping network. I know I don’t look like anything closely resembling Arnold of the terminator fame. But for the disbelieving I assure you under the clothes the muscles are in place.” Asta la vista baby” …I guess..!!!
Let me introduce myself. I’m a tam Bram. We eat curd rice and are nice people. Exercise is one of the seven deadly sins and involves at the most pressing the buttons of a remote while flipping channels on the television. An intricate math problem? An uninvited discourse on Aristotle? We are the guys. Physical activity..u kidding?
So I was moving into hitherto uncharted territory when I decided to join the gym.
My Mom couldn’t have reacted more strongly if I said I was going to become a nudist. She stared at me open mouthed.” Gym? Do I feed you so that you can go and waste it waste it lifting funny contraptions? What if you become thin?”
One fine day feeling a bit like Christopher Columbus and having pushed my chest out a couple of nonexistent inches I walked into “Bodygrow”. Suitable pictures of men with nonexistent underpants and muscles jutting out at the unlikeliest angles adorned the walls.
All around me I saw big men with funny looking faces lifting a variety of heavy apparatus.
I nervously approached the biggest guy in the place assuming logically that he must be the instructor. He listened to me and critically looked me over frowning and shaking his head.
”LIFT, PUSH, JUMP” he suddenly bellowed.
I jumped out of my skin and nearly hit the ceiling.
Weakly catching on to a treadmill for support I stuttered”w...What?”
“What are you waiting for? Start lifting and pushing and jumping!”He growled.
Forcing my face into what I thought was a grin I backed away.
I was frowning in concentration, straining as I pulled at a weight. I contorted my face into a variety of expressions as I made an effort. Suddenly a hand tapped me from behind. I nearly went face first on the canvas. The abominable instructor man was back.
“Contort your face” He said. Assuming that he was instructing me on the procedures of facial exercise I pulled my face into an ugly distorted angle.
” Look into the mirror, he growled.
I looked, rather pleased at how ugly I had made my face.
“Do you want to be stuck with this face for life?”
Even though I rather thought it would make life exciting to go around with such a face I prudently remained silent.
” Do not contort your face while exercising. The facial muscles could stay that way forever.” He walked away after another of his hammer hits on my back
Suddenly I had a bright idea. I thoughtfully set my face into what I assumed was a handsome, appealing expression, assuming if my face was going to become a certain way due to contortion I would rather it be this face of mine. For the next ten minutes I exercised with that same expression staring straight ahead. With a start I suddenly realized a guy opposite me was staring at me with a strange expression. Suddenly he winked. I slowly straightened out the grin into a normal expression, hoping he would understand that I was not the brokeback mountain kind. Me and my big ideas.
I had no idea that there were girls in my gym till a day when a lovely damsel walked in. As she hopped and jumped in her pink tights I would discretely steal glances . Whenever she was around I would try to do spectacular things like lifting weights I would not normally dream of otherwise.
With what I thought was a spectacular amount of weight on the apparatus I lifted with an almost heroic expression on my face. After repeating it for a couple of times and when my back showed signs of breaking down, I got off the machine patting myself on the back for having suitably impressed the girl. The girl herself walked to the apparatus I had just got off and after clicking her tongue after seeing the weights, she casually added a couple more weights and started working the machine rapidly. When I was walking away with a downcast expression a smothered giggle added to my humiliation.
And yeah the pains. The first day after I had started working out the pains were terrible. The only particular consolation I could think of was that there was no specific spot that pained. It pained if I laughed, it pained when I breathed and damn it, it pained when I tried using the remote too.
It’s been two months now. I wish I had a “before” and “after “picture to show you like the tele shopping network. I know I don’t look like anything closely resembling Arnold of the terminator fame. But for the disbelieving I assure you under the clothes the muscles are in place.” Asta la vista baby” …I guess..!!!
A true story!!
on Sunday, September 17, 2006The following is an excerpt I have heard from a friend of mine. It is about that oft repeated and written to death topic, love. Readers of my blog will of course be aware of my rather cynical views on the subject. But when I heard his account of what love was, I felt a stirring in my heart and a certain gland in the eye began to threaten to function, undermining my manly pretensions of pride. The following is a more coherent and orderly account of what transpired between us last night. His story was infinitely more rambling and punctuated by hiccups, under the influence of the fourth peg of an amber liquid used as a buttress for the emotionally wrecked. As a guy with no emotions and a rather more boring upbringing, I had a glass of the ubiquitous coke cradled in my hands. He sniffed and began
“I have always pictured love as something which sweeps you off your feet; you know… an upheaval which registers a 9 on the Richter scale of your four chambered thingie we have in our chest. For me it was different. She just walked into my life one day as merry as you please.
I remember her that day, prattling away prettily to everyone in the room except me. I began to feel more awkward and uglier than I normally do, which is quite a remarkable feat in itself. My eyes followed surreptiously the graceful movements of her hand as she brushed away wisps of hair that fell over her lovely face, drinking in every movement of her eyes. I still remember those eyes. Clear pools of light which could cut through the armour of hardened hearts like mine.
I have heard of prospectors working for hours, wrecking their body and souls for that one elusive precious stone. There she was ...my diamond.”
Err...I decided it was time for me to make a point
“Shut the **** up, what do you know about love?”
Looking at the nasty gleam in his eye I decided not to press the point too much. My friend was infinitely more abusive and stronger under the influence of alcohol. He continued as if I dint exist
“She started haunting my every living moment. I would walk all around college hoping for a glimpse of her, for a fleeting memory which I could cherish and relive until I saw her next. These transient moments of voyeurism became the fuel for the mundane everyday things I now sleepwalked through. When I actually had a chance to talk to her I would mumble a greeting and run away as soon as decency permitted, my blushing face a cornucopia of emotions. My emotions were taking a roller coaster ride on those fearsome rides you see in the amusement parks called ‘lightning dragon” or with some equally absurd name. A smile could transport me to the very pinnacle of emotional elation .Just as quickly I would come plummeting down to the lonely depths of emotional despair.”
He paused to take a long draught from his glass. I thoughtfully sipped on my coke not bothering to speak.
”Why the hell are you gaping silently like a fish?”he roared.
Did I mention that my friend was seldom logical when he was drunk? ”What happened then? I asked nervously. Suddenly a smile lit up his face.
“One day she said she loved me too.
That was the nearest I had come to a coronary thrombosis of the heart. After I heard it I ran to my room and closed all the doors and windows.
And then I began to dance, a wild and ungainly movement of arms and legs, where each unrestricted motion was a manifestation of a euphoria that was building up inside me like a fountain of her beauty and love.
For a fleeting moment which felt like eternity… there was no “her” and no “me”
There was just “us”.”He sniffed and a large teardrop landed in his drink. I swear that I had a lump in my throat.
“
Love is so beautiful yet so physically cruel.
I spent a few days in paradise, listening as her whispered endearments dripped off her lips like honey from a busy honeycomb.
The touch of her hand was a physical shock. It was similar to the feeling you have when someone hits you in the gut.
Remember that woozy helpless feeling you? It was like that.
And then it all changed.”
He had now graduated from tears to big racking sobs, a big blubbering helpless guy. I wept silently too, my arms trying to protect him from the barbs of his agony.
And then the drink finally overcame him and he collapsed like a bag of potatoes against my body. I felt his heart throbbing away, each beat radiating his love for that angel he had surrendered to.
And the next day he refused to speak a word about it.
I know this is a strangely unsatisfying story. I don’t know how it all changed and what happened to shatter his paradise.
I also wish I could tell you that it all ends happily ever after.
But quite frankly I don’t know, what is going to happen and neither does he.
But you know what? In spite of my cynical outlook; I am a romantic at heart.
I refuse to believe that true love will not vanquish all.
Each day I look at my friend as he masterfully laughs his way through life concealing the scars beneath. And each day I wonder what will happen!!!!
Note: I know that quite a few of my friends frequent my blog. When you read this , pray for a minute. Pray that true love will win through.
Humor in advertising...not so funny anymore?
on Saturday, July 22, 2006
Srinath S
Humor….the panacea to all ills...But advertisers across the globe seem to be taking this statement a little too literally. As a result we have advertisements for all kinds of products from chewing gums, adhesives, to cola’s and cars, all trying earnestly to tickle the viewer’s funny bone. But the million dollar question which logically follows is…does the humor actually help influence the customer? The reason for humor in advertisements is the expectation that the feel good factor will help sway customers when they make decisions. And everybody likes funny stuff right? No, as the advertisers are beginning to find out to their dismay. Humor is of course a very integral part of marketing communication but the operative words here are tasteful, well delivered, product appropriate humor.
The fact that needs to be appreciated is that although a tastefully done humorous advertisement can indeed help in a certain brand recall associated with humor, what can conversely happen is that the brand can become an object of ridicule in the mind of the customer if the humor doesn’t come off too well. The advertisers would do well to keep in mind the fact that humor in advertising improves brand recognition, but in no way influences product recall, message credibility or buying intentions. The first thing to watch out for while trying to incorporate humor into your advertisement is the type of product you are advertising for. If the products are essentially low involvement products where humor can tilt the balance then I’m all for it. If while in a supermarket the toothpaste brand that beamed the funny advertisement catches my eye, in all probability I might pop it in my shopping basket. But if they think that just by including a funny punch line in higher involvement product like say a car, I am going to get even slightly influenced they are suffering from delusions. While I do not say that there is no room for humor in higher involvement goods the advertiser needs to tread more carefully.
The second point where marketers need to pay close attention to is the fact whether the humor in the advertisement highlights the value proposition of the product or it merely is added on as an afterthought, in effect sticking out like a sore thumb. This is where one of the most humorous and effective series of advertisements to hit Indian television, the Fevicol advertisements pulls off a winner. The humor was inseparably entwined with the adhesive properties of the product, a fact that many brands need to make an example of. Humor induced brand recall should not be vague; it should provide an association in the customers mind to what the product stands for.
The third potential pitfall is the type of humor and the delivery of the humor in the advertisement. Agreed that humor does not have to be classy all the time, but it should neither be slapstick nor such that it offends the sensibilities of a certain section of people. Also everything might not be funny for everyone. A south Indian like me might guffaw uncontrollably at an advertisement while my north Indian counterpart might wonder what all the fuss what about. So in essence what I mean is if your advertisement takes a pot shot at certain sections of society even though they may not be the intended target segment they ploy will backfire. So when you want to be funny stay away from sensitive topics and issues, however rib tickling they might seem.
Advertisements are essentially for repeated telecast on mass media.
Fact 1: The frequency of the same advertisement being aired is quite high especially during primetime television.
Fact 2: Even the best of humor can grate on your nerves if shown again and again.
So logically from the above stated facts advertisers have a big task on their hands if people groan when your advertisement comes on for the umpteenth time .So even though a slap followed by ”doobara mat poochna” might be funny for the first time, after the nth time I might actually be so irritated that I consciously avoid the product. And if the makers of chorlmint actually ask me why, all they’ll get from me is a “doobara mat poochna”!
This might be regarded as a problem of advertisements in general and not only of humorous advertisements but the problem is only exacerbated with the use of the wrong kind of humor. So what is the solution then? The solution is a series of advertisements on the same theme with the same essential message as in Fevicol or chlormint do. The message in reinforced each time but with different characters and a different storyline. What also happens is the anticipation increases and the recall value consequently gets a boost.
Humor in essence is like spices. Add too little and the food could be bland. Add too much and it will lose its flavor. So the right promotional mix with just a dash of humor could reap big benefits. Or rather in keeping in touch with the theme ”laughing all the way to the bank”.
Humor….the panacea to all ills...But advertisers across the globe seem to be taking this statement a little too literally. As a result we have advertisements for all kinds of products from chewing gums, adhesives, to cola’s and cars, all trying earnestly to tickle the viewer’s funny bone. But the million dollar question which logically follows is…does the humor actually help influence the customer? The reason for humor in advertisements is the expectation that the feel good factor will help sway customers when they make decisions. And everybody likes funny stuff right? No, as the advertisers are beginning to find out to their dismay. Humor is of course a very integral part of marketing communication but the operative words here are tasteful, well delivered, product appropriate humor.
The fact that needs to be appreciated is that although a tastefully done humorous advertisement can indeed help in a certain brand recall associated with humor, what can conversely happen is that the brand can become an object of ridicule in the mind of the customer if the humor doesn’t come off too well. The advertisers would do well to keep in mind the fact that humor in advertising improves brand recognition, but in no way influences product recall, message credibility or buying intentions. The first thing to watch out for while trying to incorporate humor into your advertisement is the type of product you are advertising for. If the products are essentially low involvement products where humor can tilt the balance then I’m all for it. If while in a supermarket the toothpaste brand that beamed the funny advertisement catches my eye, in all probability I might pop it in my shopping basket. But if they think that just by including a funny punch line in higher involvement product like say a car, I am going to get even slightly influenced they are suffering from delusions. While I do not say that there is no room for humor in higher involvement goods the advertiser needs to tread more carefully.
The second point where marketers need to pay close attention to is the fact whether the humor in the advertisement highlights the value proposition of the product or it merely is added on as an afterthought, in effect sticking out like a sore thumb. This is where one of the most humorous and effective series of advertisements to hit Indian television, the Fevicol advertisements pulls off a winner. The humor was inseparably entwined with the adhesive properties of the product, a fact that many brands need to make an example of. Humor induced brand recall should not be vague; it should provide an association in the customers mind to what the product stands for.
The third potential pitfall is the type of humor and the delivery of the humor in the advertisement. Agreed that humor does not have to be classy all the time, but it should neither be slapstick nor such that it offends the sensibilities of a certain section of people. Also everything might not be funny for everyone. A south Indian like me might guffaw uncontrollably at an advertisement while my north Indian counterpart might wonder what all the fuss what about. So in essence what I mean is if your advertisement takes a pot shot at certain sections of society even though they may not be the intended target segment they ploy will backfire. So when you want to be funny stay away from sensitive topics and issues, however rib tickling they might seem.
Advertisements are essentially for repeated telecast on mass media.
Fact 1: The frequency of the same advertisement being aired is quite high especially during primetime television.
Fact 2: Even the best of humor can grate on your nerves if shown again and again.
So logically from the above stated facts advertisers have a big task on their hands if people groan when your advertisement comes on for the umpteenth time .So even though a slap followed by ”doobara mat poochna” might be funny for the first time, after the nth time I might actually be so irritated that I consciously avoid the product. And if the makers of chorlmint actually ask me why, all they’ll get from me is a “doobara mat poochna”!
This might be regarded as a problem of advertisements in general and not only of humorous advertisements but the problem is only exacerbated with the use of the wrong kind of humor. So what is the solution then? The solution is a series of advertisements on the same theme with the same essential message as in Fevicol or chlormint do. The message in reinforced each time but with different characters and a different storyline. What also happens is the anticipation increases and the recall value consequently gets a boost.
Humor in essence is like spices. Add too little and the food could be bland. Add too much and it will lose its flavor. So the right promotional mix with just a dash of humor could reap big benefits. Or rather in keeping in touch with the theme ”laughing all the way to the bank”.
A new perspective of life!!!
on Thursday, July 20, 2006Clarification:the following piece of work is not my work.It was so original in its thinking and humourous in its narration so i decided to have it anyway.
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends.
I mean, life is tough.
It takes up a lot of your time.
What do you get in the end of it?
A death!
What's that, a bonus?
I think the life cycle is all backwards.
You should die first, you know, start out dead, get it out of the way.
You wake up in a an old age home, feeling better every day.You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day.You work 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement.You drink like a fish, party your ass off, and screw anything that
moves - you've only got a few years left, so why not?!?
Then you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you >become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a baby,then, you spend your last 9 months floating peacefully with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, larger quarters everyday, and then ...
You finish off as an orgasm!
Aah! What a life that would be!
EVA….
on Sunday, July 09, 2006A poem by Srinath
Tanya the wide eyed girl in the mansion by the river,
One Christmas morn, beside the festooned tree she found,
A package wrapped in silver…she tore it open with a pleasant shiver
A golden haired doll she found in glee she clapped and twirled around
That same Christmas day, in the decrepit house across the street,
Jane walked to the bare tree in the one roomed house,
She dragged her feet, refusing to let hope rise in her chest,
Tears arose, the bare bulb casting shadows on the bare floor.
Eva …Tanya named the pretty doll and marveled at her shiny frock,
Brushed her golden hair and kissed her rosy cheeks,
Look how pretty we are...she squealed with pride …
She ran to the window…Snowflakes fell gently on a small figure across the street
Jane walked disconsolately clutching her coat to keep out wicked fingers of frost,
The bright neon light of the storefront said “the season of cheer and hope”
She smiled and lifted her face to challenge the heavens above,
At the window of the big house she saw, the cold winter air like a mirror between
Tanya played with the doll merrily skipping across the room,
In a moment of carelessness she left the doll prone ,
Her dog, inquisitive it was...tore the pretty dress and bit an arm off...
In this sorry state by Tanya was the doll found.
She shouted with disgust, looked at Eva with eyes so different
With a smooth motion, out of the window Eva flying went.
Jane closed her eyes; she hummed a tune sad and pure,
Suddenly with a thud near her feet fell,
The sweetest doll in the world, Torn were the clothes….
The arm so bent, but as she looked at Eva’s smiling face,
A friend she had found, no more would her heart bleed
It was the season of hope indeed!!
I WAS COOL OR SO I THOUGHT..a poem
on Friday, February 03, 2006I was cool or so I thought…..
Srinath.S
Trivia: After reading my poems people scratch their heads and ask” that’s ok, but why do your poems always have to be so gloomy?”
I screw up my face and prepare to defend myself when...
“Why don’t you write about love” asked one guy with a smirk on his face.
And this from a guy who wouldn’t recognize love if it danced in front of him wearing pink pajamas.
So that evening I tried to get into the proper mood. With Bryan Adams crooning” everything I do” in the background…I set to work.
“Her eyes were as deep as a limpid pool…
Hmmmmm….
“Her eyes were as deep as a limpid pool…
For some reason the only word that I could think of which rhymed with pool was
“Fool”
So that set the tone for my latest offering…here it is...
At least nobody can complain that it is gloomy!!!
******************************
I was cool or so I thought,
My head held high, walked with a swagger...
Eyebrow raised, scornful look, my friend smirks,
Never been in love and you think you are in?
Wondered long and hard, a warm glow spread...
Decided to fall in love...All inhibitions shed
Went for a stroll a pretty girl at me did smile,
Nervous .stuttered and stumbled, till the girl ran a mile
A girl fell in love with me, her father did not,
I always thought he was a small sweet man,
One fine day I saw him…he put Tyson o shame,
Packed my bags, out from her life I ran.
Another girl I found, long evenings we spent,
Whispering sweet nothings on the phone,
I wonder why she never called me when she found.
That the Mercedes I drove was just a loan
Sleepless nights thinking of life’s sweetest pain...
Dreamy pose, vacant look in the eye,
Till one day got tired playing cupid’s whipping boy
Futile promises, a meaningless lie
One day looked at my life a pattern so same.
Damn love. I was cool again!!!
************************************************
As I Row Along......
on Friday, January 27, 2006
As I Row Along......
A dingy in the stormy seas of life..,
buffeted by the waves of the faceless human mass,
safe haven from loch ness called desire , freedom is free.
where the buttress of the frail human spirit can support me
a lonely star of passion looms in the east.
maybe a will o'the wisp directing me to a bog,
the anchor weighing me broken away...
dreams which no one will see,scribbled in the boats's log,
a single gull of reason sweeps across the sky..
carried on the windy gusts of blood and toil..
opinions dripping continiously like rain drops do
where every word ,every thought seems like a lie
as the golden horizon of opportuntity beckons..
whether fact or mirage i know not,
all that poununds through my head as i look up,
Utopia..is this the freedom that i sought?
A dingy in the stormy seas of life..,
buffeted by the waves of the faceless human mass,
safe haven from loch ness called desire , freedom is free.
where the buttress of the frail human spirit can support me
a lonely star of passion looms in the east.
maybe a will o'the wisp directing me to a bog,
the anchor weighing me broken away...
dreams which no one will see,scribbled in the boats's log,
a single gull of reason sweeps across the sky..
carried on the windy gusts of blood and toil..
opinions dripping continiously like rain drops do
where every word ,every thought seems like a lie
as the golden horizon of opportuntity beckons..
whether fact or mirage i know not,
all that poununds through my head as i look up,
Utopia..is this the freedom that i sought?
poem"abu"
on Monday, June 13, 2005Poem
Abu
Srinath.S
He was just called Abu, the master of terror,
Killed like a machine without the slightest error,
Walking along on a gray winter day,
Listening to the things his conscience had to say,
Love and pity were strangers in his life,
Had more money than he wanted, faced no strife,
He had killed more people than he cared to think of,
But happiness was gone he had forgotten how to laugh,
His eyes wandered to a van coming swift and fleet,
The driver had not seen the child standing on the street,
Moving so fast like only a trained killer can,
He pushed the child away from the path of the van,
There was a loud thud as the van hit him,
And he lay bleeding, hope of recovery was slim,
Before his eyes flashed his useless, ugly past,
In the face of death he had found happiness at last.
The star of my life
Life was so simple as I knew it to be,
Where hardships were many but freedom was pure and free,
A shepherd I was in the green countryside,
The enveloping air was heavenly, the sky a carpet wide,
A pretty country girl to me her heart did lend,
Long evenings with her I loved to spend,
As the haunting melodies of the violin filled the air,
And she listened, love for music we did both share,
One gray day a well-dressed man heard me play,
He was enchanted and so the very next day,
Offered me riches and fame, life would never be dim,
If I left my village and went with him,
On the people of the big cities I cast my spell,
Money poured in and fame followed as well,
Moved with enchanting women forgot the girl who had been,
Alas! In the light of the sun the stars cannot be seen
The soul of Satan took up residence inside me,
In a fit of drunken driving, I accidentally hit a tree,
I barely survived but a hard price I had to pay,
Lost both of my hands, could’nt anymore play
Fame is fickle; money is soon spent,
Friends disappeared into thin air, did’nt know where they went,
I was soon out in the dark of the street,
Till one day my girl with me she came to meet
She still loved me, wanted to share the pain,
In my life a star had chosen to shine again
Life was so simple as I knew it to be,
Where hardships were many but freedom was pure and free,
A shepherd I was in the green countryside,
The enveloping air was heavenly, the sky a carpet wide,
A pretty country girl to me her heart did lend,
Long evenings with her I loved to spend,
As the haunting melodies of the violin filled the air,
And she listened, love for music we did both share,
One gray day a well-dressed man heard me play,
He was enchanted and so the very next day,
Offered me riches and fame, life would never be dim,
If I left my village and went with him,
On the people of the big cities I cast my spell,
Money poured in and fame followed as well,
Moved with enchanting women forgot the girl who had been,
Alas! In the light of the sun the stars cannot be seen
The soul of Satan took up residence inside me,
In a fit of drunken driving, I accidentally hit a tree,
I barely survived but a hard price I had to pay,
Lost both of my hands, could’nt anymore play
Fame is fickle; money is soon spent,
Friends disappeared into thin air, did’nt know where they went,
I was soon out in the dark of the street,
Till one day my girl with me she came to meet
She still loved me, wanted to share the pain,
In my life a star had chosen to shine again
Poem:
THE MIRROR OF TIME:
Srinath.s
Down the dusty lanes walked a frail stooping figure,
Memories of the past were clear; the present was a blur,
They called him bad luck Sam moved away when he came near,
He evoked no love only pity and fear,
Had to limp along on his one good leg,
Was too old, had no way out but to beg,
His eyes and ears, which had once been so keen,
Refused to work anymore, they were now too mean,
Children threw stones as he came limping by
He brushed away tears with a sad sigh,
Torn were his clothes the roof was the sky,
Wondered whether he should live or whether he should die,
Removed something from his coat and looked at it with pride,
A medal for bravery in war where so many had died,
Had saved eight of his friends from certain death,
Nobody believed him, told him to save his breath,
Sam grew old, one gloomy day he finally died,
Was buried with his precious medal by his side,
People old one another at last from him we are free
Little realizing he was a man they never could be.
THE MIRROR OF TIME:
Srinath.s
Down the dusty lanes walked a frail stooping figure,
Memories of the past were clear; the present was a blur,
They called him bad luck Sam moved away when he came near,
He evoked no love only pity and fear,
Had to limp along on his one good leg,
Was too old, had no way out but to beg,
His eyes and ears, which had once been so keen,
Refused to work anymore, they were now too mean,
Children threw stones as he came limping by
He brushed away tears with a sad sigh,
Torn were his clothes the roof was the sky,
Wondered whether he should live or whether he should die,
Removed something from his coat and looked at it with pride,
A medal for bravery in war where so many had died,
Had saved eight of his friends from certain death,
Nobody believed him, told him to save his breath,
Sam grew old, one gloomy day he finally died,
Was buried with his precious medal by his side,
People old one another at last from him we are free
Little realizing he was a man they never could be.
The night it happened!
--Srinath.S
Disclaimer: ALL EVENTS, CHARACTERS AND PLACES SHOWN IN THIS STORY ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL.ANY RESEMBLANCE TO CHARACTERS, DEAD OR ALIVE IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.
Vikram saw the dream for the first time Tuesday night. Next morning he had a hazy recollection of a body falling in an almost obscenely slow motion through the air. The next thing he remembered was a body sprawled on the ground in a posture of lifelessness. Then as it happens so often in dreams, the dream shifted scene abruptly, like a bollywood fantasy song.
Vikram sat up in bed his wavy long hair falling over his face. He screwed up his face and thought hard, there was something else in the dream, which seemed oddly significant. the harder he thought the hazier the memory seemed to become so he gave up and gracefully jumped out of bed.
He looked in the mirror as he passed and liked what he saw. Tall, good looking and athletic Vikram seemed to radiate beauty and grace. Just twenty-one years of age, Vikram was entering his final year of electrical engineering in Vasavi College of Engineering; Hyderabad.Every College has a “popular guy on campus” and Vikram was the chosen one. With his Greek god looks it was not fair that he excelled in sports, dance and was decent at understanding concepts of D.C motors too. But life is seldom fair and it was not surprising that Vikram was the guy the gals swooned over and guys admired grudgingly.
Vikram was in the bath when the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted him. He waited for his mother to pick it up, when suddenly he remembered with a start that his parents were out of town. Hurriedly wrapping a towel around him, he went dripping water over the bedroom floor, lifted the receiver and barked irritably” hello”
“What took you so long?” a plaintive voice mumbled.
“Unlike you some people actually bathe before coming to college”Vikram quipped.
“Huh.i’ve had my bath two hours ago” replied Rahul.
Vikram rolled his eyes in impatience. Rahul never understood jokes or puns unless it was explained to him umpteen times. Not wanting to explain,”what?”He
asked.”
“Did neha call you? She promised to call me yesterday, but she never did.”
“Big surprise”vikram almost replied and then feeling ashamed of himself, trying to make his voice matter of fact said”ya. A couple of times.”
The line at the other end went silent.
Neha was a girl in their class. She seemed to have a huge crush on Vikram and followed him everywhere. She was pretty and vivacious. Have you seen “DIL CHAHTA HAI!”?
Unfortunately Vikram was aakash and neha was deepa.
And unfortunately Rahul loved her to hell but she hardly noticed him.
“Well, see u then” croaked Rahul in an unnaturally normal voice.
“Thanks for disturbing me in my bath”Vikram replied and put down the phone.
Vikram wondered for the thousandth time what made him chose such a dolt for his friend. Rahul was a complete antithesis of Vikram, a pale underdeveloped boy who was a huge introvert. He had lost a foot in an accident five years and used a walking stick to move.
Then he realized that with all his shortcomings he still liked Rahul like hell!
*************************
He saw the dream again the next night.
He sat up on bed; rivulets of sweat pouring down his face and tried to collect his thoughts. Dreams were not new to him, he had that recurring dream about the faceless fiend a lot in his childhood. But the faceless fiend became less scary when you woke up and realized it was just a dream. But now Vikram actually seemed to be scared when he was awake too.
Strange shapes seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The banyan tree outside his window seemed to form grotesque shapes on his bedroom wall. The long drawn out scream of the falling body seemed to echo in his ears.
“What the hell is happening?” Vikram asked himself.” When did I become such piss in the pants coward?”
He had never realized that his bedroom looked such a sinister place when it was dark. The poster of the laughing clown seemed to sneer at him. The branches of the banyan swayed alarmingly. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.
**********************************
“What the hell is wrong with you?” demanded Rahul.”You’ve been sitting silently from morning, looking like the burden of the world rests squarely on your shoulders”
They were sitting in the last bench of their class. A portly professor was explaining about the swing equation. They pretended to listen with interest as they murmured trying to keep their lip movement minimal.
“Nothing, I’ve been getting this dream….”His voice trailed away.
“So what? Even I’ve been getting this dream where Neha and i…”He stopped red faced.
Not even noticing his friend’s discomfort Vikram continued”No, this is not just a dream, it almost seems like a warning!”
“A warning from what? From your fairy grandmother?” That the big baaaad wolf is going to get you” sniggered Rahul.”Anyway, our Eat street plan for tonight is still on right? Neha is coming too.” But Vikram is coming naa, only if he comes then I’ll come”Rahul mimicked Neha’s voice in a high falsetto.
“What…oh ..Yeah!”
“Mr Vikram”
“Huh”
“Mr. Vikram”. the voice was a little louder this time.
Vaguely confused he turned around.
Professor Sudhakar was glaring at him.” Would you be kind enough to go to the board and explain the mechanics of the swing equation?
*********************************************
They were sitting overlooking the hussain sagar. Dark clouds loomed overhead, scurrying past like demons across the depths of hell. The water was looking unusually murky today, dirtied by years and years of pollution and neglect. A lone bird swooped down on the water flying along on its meandering flight.
Neha’s shrill laughter broke Vikram’s reverie. He looked around to see what the joke was. Apparently Rahul had said something funny and Neha was laughing.
Vikram glanced at Rahul’s face. Flush with the success of impressing Neha for a split second Rahul looked different…. exhilarated…almost. ………handsome.
“Chalo, lets go and get something to eat” said Neha.
They wandered near the pizza corner outlet.
Rahul went on ahead his walking stick tap tapping on the floor.
Behind him very casually Neha slipped her hand into Vikram’s
Vikram felt oddly pleased and secure.
Secure? What an odd word for his mind to use. A pretty girl catches your hand and you felt…………Secure? It would have been funny if he were not so worried.
“Hey! Lets have our fortunes told” said Rahul turning around.
His eyes rested on Vikram and Neha’s hands held firmly together.
Vikram rather embarrassed tried to pry his hands free but Neha held fast.
“Ya! Lets”She replied.
An old kindly looking lady was sitting on the ground. Two parrots were wandering around bored in their cage.
“Amma” called Rahul.”Maa bhavishya chepthava”(“will u tell our fortunes”)
“Malika”called the woman in an unusually strong voice and a parrot awkwardly scrambled out of its cage.
“You know”Neha whispered in Vikram’s ear,” This woman seems new, usually a man with a big moustache sits here”
“Must be his girl friend” Vikram replied and we both giggled loudly.
They stopped short on catching the old woman’s eye.
The parrot had picked a card.
Slowly muttering to herself she turned it over. She gave a gasp and clutched at her heart.
They looked at one another bemused.
“Too terrible” She gasped.” Here take your money and leave, go.go…. go”
They were amused.” Go away!” she screamed.
A few passers by were looking at them in astonishment. The old woman saw our skeptical faces.
“Dreams have a peculiar habit of coming true, you know” she drawled.
The world seemed to come to a standstill for Vikram.A deep sense of unreality was sweeping over him. Blackness seemed to surround him like a straitjacket. He was fighting for air…Vague faceless entities had gathered around him, mocking..Laughing. Fear held him in its seductive grip, dark primitive fears.
Vikram opened his eyes. He realized that he had fainted. People had gathered around .He found Neha’s face in the crowd looking tearful. Rahul’s face worried and slightly puzzled.
Lets go” he muttered.
Before he left he turned back. The old woman was looking at Rahul with a peculiar expression on her face…sorrow and………pity!
Vikram shuddered and moved on.
***************************88
Third night running he had the same dream. This time it was different. Things seemed different, less hazy. He could see better. He stifled a scream as the body fell to the ground with a dull thud.. But something else was falling in the same obscenely slow motion. It cluttered on the ground and for a second it was crystal clear what it was. A walking stick. The scene shifted abruptly. An old woman was laughing, cackling”I told you so”…
He lay trembling in his bed. Rahul was in danger., he thought,Rahul’s gonna die. What the…?
Thousands of questions pounded his head as he screamed aloud, on the verge of hysteria. The banyan swayed merrily.
He jumped out of bed stubbing his foot on the table; hardly noticing…ran to the phone
Rahul listened, his annoyance turning into astonishment then amusement.
“Relax, big guy. Nothing is going to happen to me, you just had a bad dream “
“Don’t be a dolt. It was more than a dream .It was almost a vision, I saw you falling to your death, I tell u “
“Hold it! You wanna make sure that I’m fine, come over to my house, my parents are staying over at my aunt’s. Lets talk. Maybe you will calm down then”
Rahul put back the receiver looking at the glowing dial of his watch. It showed”11.56”
*****************************
Rahul stood on the terrace enjoying the soft moonlight. It reminded him of all things romantic and …...Neha.
The sound of Vikram’s Pulsar 180 broke the silence of the night.
“Come on up, called Rahul
Vikram ran to the terrace, taking the stairs in huge steps.
Rahul listened as an incoherent Vikram gasped out something unintelligibly, the effort of climbing two floors making him gasp.
“Calm down bro”Rahul said.
Pure terror was apparent on Vikram’s face as he tried to explain.
Rahul listened a superior, disbelieving smirk on his face.
Vikram suddenly realized that Rahul did not believe a word he said. Frustrated he turned on Rahul.”You think I am mad don’t you, that I am losing my mind”
‘No, not at all, I think you are just slightly hysterical” said Rahul calmly. For the first time in their friendship he felt like he was in control of the situation, like he was the director of this scene.
He looked at Vikram’s face. He felt pity looking at his once so confident friend.
Something snapped in Vikram.He felt like he was being made fun of and he did not like it.
“You bloody cripple”, he shouted. You have been a failure all your life, a scavenger who feeds off my glory, now I’ am so concerned about your welfare and you sit there grinning, like the stupid ape?
Vikram felt ashamed even before he had finished”Sorry”he blubbered like a helpless child beating his hands on the terrace railing.
He heard something behind him, realized what was happening even before the hands moved through the air giving him a push.
The body flew through the air, staying afloat for what seemed like eternity before crashing with a dull thud.
Rahul gave a grunt of satisfaction. As he was looking down his stick slipped through his hands. The stick flew through the air and clattered to a stop near the body sprawled on the ground.
Then everything was silent that warm summer night.
The end!
--Srinath.S
Disclaimer: ALL EVENTS, CHARACTERS AND PLACES SHOWN IN THIS STORY ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL.ANY RESEMBLANCE TO CHARACTERS, DEAD OR ALIVE IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.
Vikram saw the dream for the first time Tuesday night. Next morning he had a hazy recollection of a body falling in an almost obscenely slow motion through the air. The next thing he remembered was a body sprawled on the ground in a posture of lifelessness. Then as it happens so often in dreams, the dream shifted scene abruptly, like a bollywood fantasy song.
Vikram sat up in bed his wavy long hair falling over his face. He screwed up his face and thought hard, there was something else in the dream, which seemed oddly significant. the harder he thought the hazier the memory seemed to become so he gave up and gracefully jumped out of bed.
He looked in the mirror as he passed and liked what he saw. Tall, good looking and athletic Vikram seemed to radiate beauty and grace. Just twenty-one years of age, Vikram was entering his final year of electrical engineering in Vasavi College of Engineering; Hyderabad.Every College has a “popular guy on campus” and Vikram was the chosen one. With his Greek god looks it was not fair that he excelled in sports, dance and was decent at understanding concepts of D.C motors too. But life is seldom fair and it was not surprising that Vikram was the guy the gals swooned over and guys admired grudgingly.
Vikram was in the bath when the shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted him. He waited for his mother to pick it up, when suddenly he remembered with a start that his parents were out of town. Hurriedly wrapping a towel around him, he went dripping water over the bedroom floor, lifted the receiver and barked irritably” hello”
“What took you so long?” a plaintive voice mumbled.
“Unlike you some people actually bathe before coming to college”Vikram quipped.
“Huh.i’ve had my bath two hours ago” replied Rahul.
Vikram rolled his eyes in impatience. Rahul never understood jokes or puns unless it was explained to him umpteen times. Not wanting to explain,”what?”He
asked.”
“Did neha call you? She promised to call me yesterday, but she never did.”
“Big surprise”vikram almost replied and then feeling ashamed of himself, trying to make his voice matter of fact said”ya. A couple of times.”
The line at the other end went silent.
Neha was a girl in their class. She seemed to have a huge crush on Vikram and followed him everywhere. She was pretty and vivacious. Have you seen “DIL CHAHTA HAI!”?
Unfortunately Vikram was aakash and neha was deepa.
And unfortunately Rahul loved her to hell but she hardly noticed him.
“Well, see u then” croaked Rahul in an unnaturally normal voice.
“Thanks for disturbing me in my bath”Vikram replied and put down the phone.
Vikram wondered for the thousandth time what made him chose such a dolt for his friend. Rahul was a complete antithesis of Vikram, a pale underdeveloped boy who was a huge introvert. He had lost a foot in an accident five years and used a walking stick to move.
Then he realized that with all his shortcomings he still liked Rahul like hell!
*************************
He saw the dream again the next night.
He sat up on bed; rivulets of sweat pouring down his face and tried to collect his thoughts. Dreams were not new to him, he had that recurring dream about the faceless fiend a lot in his childhood. But the faceless fiend became less scary when you woke up and realized it was just a dream. But now Vikram actually seemed to be scared when he was awake too.
Strange shapes seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The banyan tree outside his window seemed to form grotesque shapes on his bedroom wall. The long drawn out scream of the falling body seemed to echo in his ears.
“What the hell is happening?” Vikram asked himself.” When did I become such piss in the pants coward?”
He had never realized that his bedroom looked such a sinister place when it was dark. The poster of the laughing clown seemed to sneer at him. The branches of the banyan swayed alarmingly. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.
**********************************
“What the hell is wrong with you?” demanded Rahul.”You’ve been sitting silently from morning, looking like the burden of the world rests squarely on your shoulders”
They were sitting in the last bench of their class. A portly professor was explaining about the swing equation. They pretended to listen with interest as they murmured trying to keep their lip movement minimal.
“Nothing, I’ve been getting this dream….”His voice trailed away.
“So what? Even I’ve been getting this dream where Neha and i…”He stopped red faced.
Not even noticing his friend’s discomfort Vikram continued”No, this is not just a dream, it almost seems like a warning!”
“A warning from what? From your fairy grandmother?” That the big baaaad wolf is going to get you” sniggered Rahul.”Anyway, our Eat street plan for tonight is still on right? Neha is coming too.” But Vikram is coming naa, only if he comes then I’ll come”Rahul mimicked Neha’s voice in a high falsetto.
“What…oh ..Yeah!”
“Mr Vikram”
“Huh”
“Mr. Vikram”. the voice was a little louder this time.
Vaguely confused he turned around.
Professor Sudhakar was glaring at him.” Would you be kind enough to go to the board and explain the mechanics of the swing equation?
*********************************************
They were sitting overlooking the hussain sagar. Dark clouds loomed overhead, scurrying past like demons across the depths of hell. The water was looking unusually murky today, dirtied by years and years of pollution and neglect. A lone bird swooped down on the water flying along on its meandering flight.
Neha’s shrill laughter broke Vikram’s reverie. He looked around to see what the joke was. Apparently Rahul had said something funny and Neha was laughing.
Vikram glanced at Rahul’s face. Flush with the success of impressing Neha for a split second Rahul looked different…. exhilarated…almost. ………handsome.
“Chalo, lets go and get something to eat” said Neha.
They wandered near the pizza corner outlet.
Rahul went on ahead his walking stick tap tapping on the floor.
Behind him very casually Neha slipped her hand into Vikram’s
Vikram felt oddly pleased and secure.
Secure? What an odd word for his mind to use. A pretty girl catches your hand and you felt…………Secure? It would have been funny if he were not so worried.
“Hey! Lets have our fortunes told” said Rahul turning around.
His eyes rested on Vikram and Neha’s hands held firmly together.
Vikram rather embarrassed tried to pry his hands free but Neha held fast.
“Ya! Lets”She replied.
An old kindly looking lady was sitting on the ground. Two parrots were wandering around bored in their cage.
“Amma” called Rahul.”Maa bhavishya chepthava”(“will u tell our fortunes”)
“Malika”called the woman in an unusually strong voice and a parrot awkwardly scrambled out of its cage.
“You know”Neha whispered in Vikram’s ear,” This woman seems new, usually a man with a big moustache sits here”
“Must be his girl friend” Vikram replied and we both giggled loudly.
They stopped short on catching the old woman’s eye.
The parrot had picked a card.
Slowly muttering to herself she turned it over. She gave a gasp and clutched at her heart.
They looked at one another bemused.
“Too terrible” She gasped.” Here take your money and leave, go.go…. go”
They were amused.” Go away!” she screamed.
A few passers by were looking at them in astonishment. The old woman saw our skeptical faces.
“Dreams have a peculiar habit of coming true, you know” she drawled.
The world seemed to come to a standstill for Vikram.A deep sense of unreality was sweeping over him. Blackness seemed to surround him like a straitjacket. He was fighting for air…Vague faceless entities had gathered around him, mocking..Laughing. Fear held him in its seductive grip, dark primitive fears.
Vikram opened his eyes. He realized that he had fainted. People had gathered around .He found Neha’s face in the crowd looking tearful. Rahul’s face worried and slightly puzzled.
Lets go” he muttered.
Before he left he turned back. The old woman was looking at Rahul with a peculiar expression on her face…sorrow and………pity!
Vikram shuddered and moved on.
***************************88
Third night running he had the same dream. This time it was different. Things seemed different, less hazy. He could see better. He stifled a scream as the body fell to the ground with a dull thud.. But something else was falling in the same obscenely slow motion. It cluttered on the ground and for a second it was crystal clear what it was. A walking stick. The scene shifted abruptly. An old woman was laughing, cackling”I told you so”…
He lay trembling in his bed. Rahul was in danger., he thought,Rahul’s gonna die. What the…?
Thousands of questions pounded his head as he screamed aloud, on the verge of hysteria. The banyan swayed merrily.
He jumped out of bed stubbing his foot on the table; hardly noticing…ran to the phone
Rahul listened, his annoyance turning into astonishment then amusement.
“Relax, big guy. Nothing is going to happen to me, you just had a bad dream “
“Don’t be a dolt. It was more than a dream .It was almost a vision, I saw you falling to your death, I tell u “
“Hold it! You wanna make sure that I’m fine, come over to my house, my parents are staying over at my aunt’s. Lets talk. Maybe you will calm down then”
Rahul put back the receiver looking at the glowing dial of his watch. It showed”11.56”
*****************************
Rahul stood on the terrace enjoying the soft moonlight. It reminded him of all things romantic and …...Neha.
The sound of Vikram’s Pulsar 180 broke the silence of the night.
“Come on up, called Rahul
Vikram ran to the terrace, taking the stairs in huge steps.
Rahul listened as an incoherent Vikram gasped out something unintelligibly, the effort of climbing two floors making him gasp.
“Calm down bro”Rahul said.
Pure terror was apparent on Vikram’s face as he tried to explain.
Rahul listened a superior, disbelieving smirk on his face.
Vikram suddenly realized that Rahul did not believe a word he said. Frustrated he turned on Rahul.”You think I am mad don’t you, that I am losing my mind”
‘No, not at all, I think you are just slightly hysterical” said Rahul calmly. For the first time in their friendship he felt like he was in control of the situation, like he was the director of this scene.
He looked at Vikram’s face. He felt pity looking at his once so confident friend.
Something snapped in Vikram.He felt like he was being made fun of and he did not like it.
“You bloody cripple”, he shouted. You have been a failure all your life, a scavenger who feeds off my glory, now I’ am so concerned about your welfare and you sit there grinning, like the stupid ape?
Vikram felt ashamed even before he had finished”Sorry”he blubbered like a helpless child beating his hands on the terrace railing.
He heard something behind him, realized what was happening even before the hands moved through the air giving him a push.
The body flew through the air, staying afloat for what seemed like eternity before crashing with a dull thud.
Rahul gave a grunt of satisfaction. As he was looking down his stick slipped through his hands. The stick flew through the air and clattered to a stop near the body sprawled on the ground.
Then everything was silent that warm summer night.
The end!
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