No rules, no game, right? Wrong.

How do you play a game that has no rules? No start. No end. And of course, no middle.

Simple. Your way.

My colleague made a fantastic impression on me today. I was, as I seem to be doing a lot nowadays, complaining about the sheer lack of intelligence around me. I don’t mean the been-in-advertising-for-so-many-years-and-have-a-marketing-degree-to-back-that kind of aptitude. There’s plenty of that. A little too much, in fact. I’m talking about the ordinary, commonsense knowledge and working skills that are a basic pre-requisite for any job.

Patiently, as always, my partner told me a simple thing: ‘When all the people around you are confused, when no one seems to be able to take a stand, YOU do it. Stake claim to an idea and stand by it. Mind it though, be ready to face criticism, a lot of pressure, probing, questioning, a horde of unbelievers.’

I think today there is lot of information if one knows where to look for it. What is lacking is application of that knowledge. Or in the absence of that, an excellent packaging of what scantily exists in the mind.

It's simply a matter of changing the rules. Or, creating them.

Bittersweet symphony

I met up with a friend for lunch last week. A very dear friend, well, my ex-boyfriend actually.

We were incommunicado for over a year. Just couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. And then suddenly, about a month back, we got back in touch. (He’s married, not sure about the happily part though.)

As I waited for him outside a pre-decided restaurant, thankfully not one of our earlier haunts, I was plagued by lots of thoughts. Disturbing thoughts. How will I face him? What will we talk about? Should I ask about his wife? How much has he changed? How much have I changed?

He turned up 20 minutes late. Well, that’s a start. At least some things were still the same.

We went inside, we ordered, we exchanged pleasantries. ‘Yes, work’s fine. Keeps me busy.’ ‘You’ve put on weight.’ ‘No it’s ok. I can take a longer lunch-break.’

And all along, a part of me sat on the third chair, waiting. For the fireworks, the dry mouth, the sudden thumping inside, the racing heartbeat, a warm glow.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was heartbreaking to realise that the feelings I’d had for this person had just disappeared. Yes, I’m fond of him still. But all my love just vanished, like it never existed. Not a shred of my emotions existed. It was like they were just a figment of my imagination.

Slowly the realisation dawned. He’s a friend, just a friend. Just another friend.

Should I be relieved? Should I be disappointed? I don’t know. Tell me readers.

Staying Sane

It's been a month, and I’ve made no progress on my space in the cyber world. That’s cause I’ve been busy trying to scrape out an existence here.

Work’s been a killer, but that’s how it goes. As every seasoned advertising professional gets to know sooner or later, advertising is indeed 99.9% perspiration and 0.1% inspiration. Though there are days, when you doubt the numbers. Is it really 0.1%, and not less?

A junior, budding fellow in the office last week was doubting his career choice. Doesn’t give him the same kick and pounding feeling inside as he had hoped he would get.

Was he echoing what I’ve been too scared to face myself? Something’s missing. Some spark that would push me, without fail, to get to work every single day. Off late, it’s an effort getting out of bed even.

So what did I do? I sat down the guy on the bright sofa in the office reception, and gave myself a pep talk. Don’t give up. Every moment of disheartenment, every rejection, every re-work will eventually get vindicated by that one job that is sufficient for you to get the kick of your life.

Think, not that tomorrow is another day, but that today will be better. It’s another opportunity to work upon and perhaps, just perhaps, get it right this time.

Stay on it. Stay sane.

Getting started (finally)

Sounds like the title of a software programme's handbook.Or the first page of the instruction manual of a new techie contraption your cubicle mate pulled out from a bag. Something you have absolutely no idea how to use. (Though I really wonder if people today need manuals. Everything is so simple, so easy. Or so they say.) Just last week I got a friend to explain to me what 'Bluetooth' is and how it works. Call me outdated, call me slow. That's what I am.

Anyway, getting back to the subject on hand. After having stayed far behind all the excitement that blogging is, i've peered through the dust and finally decided to start a page of my own. A lot of hesitation precluded this step and I did it in the privacy of my home, not wanting to make a fool of myself.

I was among the last in my college gang to get an email id. The last in my office group to get a mobile phone. (Still don't possess a laptop or an ipod.) The last to start chatting online. And today, yes, also among the last to start a blog of my own.

Yes, yes, i'm a relic of the bygone era. Suddenly realising that the more I tried not to become like my parents, the closer I ended up resembling them in their behaviour and mindsets. Wary of all things new. But still curious.

Well, but the deed is done now. And I've officially become a blogger.

Getting started.