I am allergic to press releases, or anything that shouts, “I am a press release”, which makes for 99.9 % of press releases. What also gets my capillaries bursting is calls from PR companies that start with, “I wanted to talk to you regarding my client XYZ ….who will be …..” Or this one: “We have sent you an invite for the launch of ___(random product or event) on ___ at ____which will be attended by ___ (list of random C-list celebrities). Will you be coming?”
Of course I won’t be coming. I have a life. I mean, give me a break. The least you can do is come up with a better opening line. But I guess lazy journalists will take anything that comes their way, which means PR companies will never go out of business — it’s a symbiotic relationship.
At the start of my career as an advertising copywriter, there was the era of the un-ad ad. There were a whole bunch of creative directors who constantly reminded us that the reader unfolds the paper to read news and features, not ads. Our competition therefore, was editorial content, not other ads. That was the honeymoon period for copywriters who dug body copy, like I did. Then the television boom happened and everything was about 30-second quickies. There was no room for print, and if at all, it was about, “We have to do a 100 cc ad. It has to include the client’s bio-data, his ex-wife’s photo, his dog’s name somewhere in the copy, his mission statement, his brother’s company’s logo and baseline and….”
I quit. I became a journalist.
Some days ago, I received this in my inbox. I would have blindly deleted it, just as I do every press release I routinely get, when the subject line made me stop for a second. It said ‘W.A.L.S: Women Against Lazy Stubble’, and I figured it could work as fodder for my column. (No prizes for guessing it was from a shaving products company). Now, forget the fact that I like my men with a bit of stubble and I am the one always asking the husband to go easy on the buzzing; it’s well, just more textural and if you may, alpha male. It briefly read:
For centuries women have spent hours grooming themselves to please men but that is changing. Women are now taking a strong stand against LAZY MEN AND THEIR LAZY STUBBLE. W.A.L.S is a movement that brings together all like-minded women who believe that it is about time men made a little effort to groom themselves and sport a cleaner and more confident look. Why should only the women make that effort? The founders of this movement are a group of young women who believe that EQUALITY should exist in all walks of life – including self-hygiene and grooming.
It went on..
“We would invite celebrities like Malaika Arora, Neha Dhupia and Mugdha Godse to be a part of an EXCLUSIVE story with your publication, where they can share their thoughts on topics such as….. and instances in their life where stubble proved to be trouble (with friends, husband, father, brother boyfriend, etc.)
I do hope there is an era of the un-press release press release. Meanwhile I can offer my services to PR companies looking to write them.
Showing posts with label office. Show all posts
Showing posts with label office. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
The day after
It's not what you're thinking. I am talking of the ‘day after the bunk’ looks that men and women commonly adopt, not realising that everyone knows. A man does with a stubble (if he lacks one usually), a woman does with eye make-up, actually, the lack of it. Why do they do it? Beats me. May be they feel it authenticates their case, in case they are faking it. And many times they are…
Even though casual leaves are meant to be taken ‘casually’ and ‘sick leave” is for being sick, I am always foxed by the bunking gems that I encounter time and again. Here are a few bunk gems that I have encountered in recent times:
“I don’t think I am feeling too well, so I’ll take it easy today..”
I don’t really know what that means, but I never feel ‘too well’ to show up at work.
But the boss and I both believe that when you have a job, you show up. Life is always better at home—watching mindless TV or those DVDs you have stacked up, cooking, listening to jazz, reading, cuddling your cats or taking your dog for a walk, but until we find someone to pay our bills, or know that we have finally got our nest egg in place, that ain’t happening.
“ I am down with a throat infection and I will not be able to come today.”
There is a technical problem with this, because, when you have a throat infection, you are mostly ‘up’ not ‘down’. You are up gargling, drinking hot tea, water, or any beverage that makes you feel good.
“Hi, I seem to have a neck ache. So may not be able to make it.”
The word ‘seem’ is what I have a problem with. Either you have an ache or you don’t. Also men with neck-aches are so not cool. Also, exactly what will not be able to make it? You or your neck?
"My train didn’t stop at Mahim, but went to Bombay Central instead…"
Okay we know you are not from Bombay, but do you have to make it so obvious?
“I got my period on the way to work, so I had to go back home”
There is something called contingency plan. And ‘knowing your dates’.
“I think I have food poisoning. May be it was the ostrich I ate last night.”
People who are prone to food poisoning have no business eating ostrich. Or anything for that matter.
“My gas ran out as I was cooking…”
Now that could be a real problem. After all, who can eat a half-cooked rajma? But may be your office doesn’t have a microwave, unlike ours. Lucky us!
“ I was getting on the bus and it will not move…”
Dear BEST loyalist. How about plan B?
“My electricity has got cut off because I didn’t pay my bill. Have to go and get it back”
Have you heard of Bill pay? Or the ten-rupee errand boy?
“My train has just encountered a buffalo…”
Nice one.
“My eye refuses to open…”
Wow! Perfectly plausible, except for the fact that when that happens, you can’t show up bright eyed, and kohl-lined the next day.
"I have to rush for a family emergency”
So far so good. But when you call up three days later in a badly faked voice to say that the emergency hasn’t ended, it makes it curiouser and curiouser. I am imagining you waiting for an aging relative to sign his will and leave you a legacy.
May be I should listen to the able Moorthy, our sanity check who tells me of people in general, “Have leave, will take”
Even though casual leaves are meant to be taken ‘casually’ and ‘sick leave” is for being sick, I am always foxed by the bunking gems that I encounter time and again. Here are a few bunk gems that I have encountered in recent times:
“I don’t think I am feeling too well, so I’ll take it easy today..”
I don’t really know what that means, but I never feel ‘too well’ to show up at work.
But the boss and I both believe that when you have a job, you show up. Life is always better at home—watching mindless TV or those DVDs you have stacked up, cooking, listening to jazz, reading, cuddling your cats or taking your dog for a walk, but until we find someone to pay our bills, or know that we have finally got our nest egg in place, that ain’t happening.
“ I am down with a throat infection and I will not be able to come today.”
There is a technical problem with this, because, when you have a throat infection, you are mostly ‘up’ not ‘down’. You are up gargling, drinking hot tea, water, or any beverage that makes you feel good.
“Hi, I seem to have a neck ache. So may not be able to make it.”
The word ‘seem’ is what I have a problem with. Either you have an ache or you don’t. Also men with neck-aches are so not cool. Also, exactly what will not be able to make it? You or your neck?
"My train didn’t stop at Mahim, but went to Bombay Central instead…"
Okay we know you are not from Bombay, but do you have to make it so obvious?
“I got my period on the way to work, so I had to go back home”
There is something called contingency plan. And ‘knowing your dates’.
“I think I have food poisoning. May be it was the ostrich I ate last night.”
People who are prone to food poisoning have no business eating ostrich. Or anything for that matter.
“My gas ran out as I was cooking…”
Now that could be a real problem. After all, who can eat a half-cooked rajma? But may be your office doesn’t have a microwave, unlike ours. Lucky us!
“ I was getting on the bus and it will not move…”
Dear BEST loyalist. How about plan B?
“My electricity has got cut off because I didn’t pay my bill. Have to go and get it back”
Have you heard of Bill pay? Or the ten-rupee errand boy?
“My train has just encountered a buffalo…”
Nice one.
“My eye refuses to open…”
Wow! Perfectly plausible, except for the fact that when that happens, you can’t show up bright eyed, and kohl-lined the next day.
"I have to rush for a family emergency”
So far so good. But when you call up three days later in a badly faked voice to say that the emergency hasn’t ended, it makes it curiouser and curiouser. I am imagining you waiting for an aging relative to sign his will and leave you a legacy.
May be I should listen to the able Moorthy, our sanity check who tells me of people in general, “Have leave, will take”
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The hot and cold of it
I spend a great part of my day in an office where my most preoccupying thought is how to stay warm. Now, don’t get ideas. There’s no such action here. All I am talking about is plotting on how not to be subjected to sub-human temperatures and not have to thaw my fingers every time I try to type.
Okay, I know some people consider it fashionable to dress for winter and wear layers and all of that, but I am not one of those — I am the type who hates wearing a salwar kameez because it has too much fabric and too many layers. So when I am forced to wear more fabric than necessary to keep myself warm, it irks me.
And to think that just over a year ago, I would have done anything to have an office AC that actually cools. Yes, I was then in a space called Man’s World, where one felt one had to go through a steady state of disrobing so as to not roast. Had the AC been fixed, and had there been a unisex loo in place, I would have probably never made it to this paper.
I have come to realise that when it comes to the work place, there are only two options. Either you shrivel or you stew. There is no such thing as an office with optimum temperature. Let’s not even go to food, recreation and other frills.
A few years prior, I was in a robot land called Tata Interactive, which was a space inhabited by Neanderthals with varying winter wardrobes..from the very gauche to the very galactic. And when it came to a contest for cooling needs, somehow, the “server” always won, even though most of our window displays always showed that the “server was down” or some such.
Somehow, I have always been lucky with houses, which is why going back home is always a more pleasant experience than going to work. Of course, staying in the car is the best of all.
If only HR personnel knew that the one way to make sure people stay in their jobs for ever and ever is by offering them the right food and the right temperature. Like animals, human beings also like to nest when the conditions are optimum. It doesn’t take too many workshops to figure that out. Till today, the office where I have had the longest innings has been the one with optimum cooling and happy canteen boys. That’s all it takes, future employers please pay attention.
My friend Anita, who lives in New York has an interesting theory — work is not a natural state to be — like eating or sleeping, or being in love, or getting married. We work because we have to, but we eat and sleep because we love to. Sometimes we work because it is the only way we can do the rest of the stuff. So in that sense, work contradicts our natural state of being. And working in the cold aggravates it even further. Ever wonder why those posh offices with snazzy ACs and vending machines that spew it all have such a high turnover of people? Well, it’s just too cold for comfort.
Okay, I know some people consider it fashionable to dress for winter and wear layers and all of that, but I am not one of those — I am the type who hates wearing a salwar kameez because it has too much fabric and too many layers. So when I am forced to wear more fabric than necessary to keep myself warm, it irks me.
And to think that just over a year ago, I would have done anything to have an office AC that actually cools. Yes, I was then in a space called Man’s World, where one felt one had to go through a steady state of disrobing so as to not roast. Had the AC been fixed, and had there been a unisex loo in place, I would have probably never made it to this paper.
I have come to realise that when it comes to the work place, there are only two options. Either you shrivel or you stew. There is no such thing as an office with optimum temperature. Let’s not even go to food, recreation and other frills.
A few years prior, I was in a robot land called Tata Interactive, which was a space inhabited by Neanderthals with varying winter wardrobes..from the very gauche to the very galactic. And when it came to a contest for cooling needs, somehow, the “server” always won, even though most of our window displays always showed that the “server was down” or some such.
Somehow, I have always been lucky with houses, which is why going back home is always a more pleasant experience than going to work. Of course, staying in the car is the best of all.
If only HR personnel knew that the one way to make sure people stay in their jobs for ever and ever is by offering them the right food and the right temperature. Like animals, human beings also like to nest when the conditions are optimum. It doesn’t take too many workshops to figure that out. Till today, the office where I have had the longest innings has been the one with optimum cooling and happy canteen boys. That’s all it takes, future employers please pay attention.
My friend Anita, who lives in New York has an interesting theory — work is not a natural state to be — like eating or sleeping, or being in love, or getting married. We work because we have to, but we eat and sleep because we love to. Sometimes we work because it is the only way we can do the rest of the stuff. So in that sense, work contradicts our natural state of being. And working in the cold aggravates it even further. Ever wonder why those posh offices with snazzy ACs and vending machines that spew it all have such a high turnover of people? Well, it’s just too cold for comfort.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Of ones and twos
‘Bring your spouse or significant other’ said the invite to our office party last week.
A voice of authority trailed off in the corridor, “How can they say something like this? What if you don’t have a spouse or a significant other?” Another echoes in support, “I agree, this is so unfair…”
There we go again, I think—damned if you do (have a significant other) and damned if you don’t. Is this going to me yet another ‘us’ vs ‘them’ moments?.. I wonder.
Not that I have a problem being on either side. It is as easy to slide into singledom as into coupledom. I have been through phases of significant others, not-so-significant others, or no significant others. Or even times when my significant other was my cat Lupooh Singh. And believe me, he was the hardest to please. Like Cinderella, I would leave parties and nights of wild dancing midway, because he didn’t quite approve of my night-bird ways. We went on long drives, spent weekends together, watched endless DVDs (dunno how the view is from atop the TV, but I never argued), played ball, ate candle-lit dinners, cuddled.
At times, he tried surprising me by bringing me dinner —a lizard, a pigeon, a sparrow— which I politely turned down, because I preferred things green, but it was a sterling act in tact display.
He ultimately decided that we had issues –he was a home bird and I loved to party. He even began to resent our weekend drives into the wilderness. So he started behaving like a dog in the car—tongue hanging out, panting, and I decided that was the end of our outings. Soon, he had a suitable feline distraction who obviously won him over, and matched his elegance, and I was bereft.
Fortunately, I was not shattered, and I didn’t slit my wrists. May be because a part of me knew that I had an inbuilt significant other that I could always count on ( I’m Gemini, there is at least three of me inside). So I moved on and they lived happily ever after.
********
Finally, I went solo (my significant other had too much to deal with that week), and had a pretty good time, till I had enough of the blinding lights and the gauche musicians. But when I looked around, I noticed that most significant others were absent as well. Which made me realise that it was much ado about nothing after all. It got me wondering— why does a harmless invite like the aforementioned spark off so much insecurity in people? Isn’t it more about having a significant ‘yourself’ before you can have a significant ‘other’?
A voice of authority trailed off in the corridor, “How can they say something like this? What if you don’t have a spouse or a significant other?” Another echoes in support, “I agree, this is so unfair…”
There we go again, I think—damned if you do (have a significant other) and damned if you don’t. Is this going to me yet another ‘us’ vs ‘them’ moments?.. I wonder.
Not that I have a problem being on either side. It is as easy to slide into singledom as into coupledom. I have been through phases of significant others, not-so-significant others, or no significant others. Or even times when my significant other was my cat Lupooh Singh. And believe me, he was the hardest to please. Like Cinderella, I would leave parties and nights of wild dancing midway, because he didn’t quite approve of my night-bird ways. We went on long drives, spent weekends together, watched endless DVDs (dunno how the view is from atop the TV, but I never argued), played ball, ate candle-lit dinners, cuddled.
At times, he tried surprising me by bringing me dinner —a lizard, a pigeon, a sparrow— which I politely turned down, because I preferred things green, but it was a sterling act in tact display.
He ultimately decided that we had issues –he was a home bird and I loved to party. He even began to resent our weekend drives into the wilderness. So he started behaving like a dog in the car—tongue hanging out, panting, and I decided that was the end of our outings. Soon, he had a suitable feline distraction who obviously won him over, and matched his elegance, and I was bereft.
Fortunately, I was not shattered, and I didn’t slit my wrists. May be because a part of me knew that I had an inbuilt significant other that I could always count on ( I’m Gemini, there is at least three of me inside). So I moved on and they lived happily ever after.
********
Finally, I went solo (my significant other had too much to deal with that week), and had a pretty good time, till I had enough of the blinding lights and the gauche musicians. But when I looked around, I noticed that most significant others were absent as well. Which made me realise that it was much ado about nothing after all. It got me wondering— why does a harmless invite like the aforementioned spark off so much insecurity in people? Isn’t it more about having a significant ‘yourself’ before you can have a significant ‘other’?
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