Cynicism - the good side - in fact the only side

Cynicism seems to be the order of the day, or rather the best among a multitude of ‘isms’ around begging to be followed. Unless you like cruel surprises of course. Ones like - Water is at times thicker than blood. Cheating is not confined to ‘Desperate Housewives’. Death is not for the body alone. The proverbial friend in need is just proverbial. Cigarettes cause hypertension on the long run. Even healthy food kills. Reality shows are scripted. NGOs exist only in concept. Size does matter. Man created God and not the other way around. Well, I am not claiming that Cynicism makes one immune from it all. It just helps to remain prepared.

Advertising. WTF?

Unlike in the metros, advertising still works in mysterious ways for my folks and the likes back in Kerala. My dad hates it when I introduce myself as a copywriter to his friends. He prefers ‘advertising executive’. Like that sounds any better. But can’t blame him completely, can I? I remember telling one of my friends, a science graduate, about me being a copywriter. “That must involve a lot of reading. Considering the amount of law books you have to mug up.” said he, almost breaking into tears. A small ‘copyrighting’ versus ‘copywriting’ crisis.

The hilarious case of Smiju T K, a fellow art director, is even funnier. He was at an aunt’s place, an old lady, to bid farewell before boarding the bus to Bangalore. As the answer to a query about the nature of his job, poor Smiju avoided the term art director conveniently. He was well aware of the layers of explanation and an in-depth seminar on advertising he would have had to conduct to explain the term. Instead, he translated advertising into its Malayalam counterpart. The lady held his hand. Her eye wrestled back a tear drop. “Be careful while painting those hoardings. Those ladders can be real tricky you know.” To everyone else who wanted to know his profession since then, he was a carpenter. By the virtue of lesser risk involved I suppose.

Redundance!

Beep, beep! My friend sitting across the table at the bar picks up his phone. It’s an SMS. His eyes bulge and are on the verge of falling down from their sockets as his eyes take in line after line. Without a word, he passes the phone to me. It read, “Brother’s engagement over. Wedding on the 16th. Luv sis.” Before you WTF(use as a verb) the aforesaid, you have to realize that the brother mentioned in the text message, is his brother. Not a co-brother, but his own in every sense of the word. Born of the same mother, and arguably the same father. The sender of the message, 'sis', is his own sister. Under the same conditions as the brother. Have marriages become a thing of trivial importance? Or is it the relationships? I do not know.

A suicide that went wrong!

“Aaaaargh!!! You just punctured my eye you rotten little drunk,” screamed Cyclops, the old dartboard at the pub. “I guess they will only realise my pain when I bleed. Agnostic infidels. I think I might as well just hang myself to death. Oh, I already am hanging. Somebody tighten the noose for god’s sake!” Silence. Snap. “Oops, the wrong head. Sorry nail.”

The future is black

I think that sooner or later, the blacks will inherit the earth. The process has been on for a while. Jesse Owens gave us a hint, and Hitler a slap, in 1936. It was there for the entire world to see, the first televised event in the world, the Berlin Olympics. When Owens jumped, he defied not just gravity, but a century of prejudices and misconceptions. Chuck Berry and the likes conquered the music world by making all the right noises. Then there was the West Indian cricket team. To think of it, the English invented a game so that they could win everything before the world caught up. But Gary Sobers and party had other plans. And Woods of course, Tiger Woods. The little man with an oriental chromosome barged into the rich white man’s world uninvited, much in the same fashion as John Savage in ‘A Brave New World’. The only difference being that Mr. Woods would just not go back. And now there is Obama – the most powerful man on earth since anyone. I am a little on the darker side. I hope that’s enough to head Ogilvy one of in the not too distant future.

Even god is human...

A day after God swore in as himself – a ceremony supervised by him and few angels – came the time to delegate portfolios. The criterion was simple. Divinity. Since there was no accepted scale to quantify, and since qualification would result in apocalypse, God decided to create a jury. It comprised of him and well… him. The ones with the most astounding of supernatural abilities received the most coveted disciplines. There was plenty of divine intervention on display. Fire breathing, storm catching, ocean parting, etc. But Medusa the little fairy beat them all to the best on the list. It was an offer he couldn't refuse. She gave him a cherry.

The confidant

If you knew some of things I knew, you’d probably start your own multimillion dollar blackmailing firm with branches in all the metros and with over 3000 employees. For instance, I know all about this actor who is sleeping with his producer’s wife. That is indeed, a very generous sign of gratitude to the man who provided him his first break. I also have some information on this cop who was caught on tape with a sixteen-year-old. Apparently, the filmmakers are demanding a handsome amount from the rookie actor – production charges of course. Wait. Here comes the local MLA’s secretary. He is my favourite. For one, his confessions are always high on news value. Sex, lies, videotapes. But the best part - he’s got something new every damn day.