Marketing

Like everyone else, I feel sick of having to listen to the same advertisements over and over again on radio , especially if a jingle gets stuck in my head. Such a constant attack on my senses makes me wonder as to how many people are out there trying to convince me what I should be buying today and what special offer or discount I should be availing.
I had this notion that marketing will probably pursue me till the grave (Another one of the things that one can't help I guess ). Therefore, the piece of nonsense verse that follows is about the possibility of a novel marketing idea - products for the dead.

I have decided to call it ' The over-eager sales girl '

I said: "You're making a blunder
I'm already six feet under
And my best friend's a spade "
She said: "Sir, you can still take ghost-paid"

The Olimpics

In the book '1984' George Orwell says 'Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows. ' He depicts the hero's struggle against a totalitarian state.

I could see eerie coincidences between the state in '1984' and China's admittance to 'fixes' at the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics. First, they made a little girl mime on stage while another actually sang ( she wasn't cute enough to be on stage ). Then they decided to liven up the fireworks with some graphics. Talk about taking the audience for granted.

It seems that there is nothing beyond the power of the government. Even the weather can be controlled, what with anti-aircraft guns (filled with chemicals) being fired at passing clouds to prevent rain.

So here 's some nonsense to commemmorate the Olympics.

"Rain rain go away
Little Chang wants to play!
To keep your clouds at bay
Anti-aircraft guns we'll fire away!
Since now we've taught you our nursery rhyme,
The next lesson is how to mime"

Institutions

One of the reasons I quit my job was because of the feeling that I was getting institutionalised at the workplace. One look at the rows and rows of seats in that office could lead to the question " So where do I as a person fit in here ? ". There was something disconcertingly impersonal about the place and it was unnerving to be identified just by the company I worked for. It certainly was the last straw when I took out my office ID card while entering "The Forum" mall. I did not want to end up like the old man in "The Shawshank Redemption" who, after having been in prison for the majority of his life , hangs himself on his release. Only because he has always been told what to do ( and what not to ) , he cannot handle his new found freedom.

Now, back home in Chennai, I m repeatedly asked " What do you do ? " . The question might as well be framed as " Which institution/company do you belong to or work for ? " . Even getting a new moblie phone connection requires me to 'belong' somewhere. This is extremely frustrating as I was glad to be liberated from the fold when I quit. So I have lately taken to saying that I am a student at XYZ driving school.

It maybe that I m an escapist or a misguided 'angry young man' ( as my mom asked - " Who do you think you are - Pink Floyd ? " ). At the same time , I know that I ll have get back to the corporate world after my higher studies. I guess there is no escaping institutions after all. I shall therefore take consolation in mocking them by writing verse.

Presenting - a short piece that came to be banned in office.

" I have absolutely no regard
For my corporate ID card
But even if I threw it to mars
I d end up with a day- pass"

( day passes were issued to those who had forgotten their ID cards :) )

Mother , should I trust the goverment ?

Red Tape

In every government office lurks
An army of clerks
Who're unmindful of the filing backlog
And refuse to register your dog
Under the table you ll have to pay
If you forgot form 124A

The Compromise Candidate

On his name there's no smear
By him both sides swear
But what can be brought to bear
Is that he's neither here nor there

Entertainment

The Ageing Star

There's no greater mirage
Than an ageing star's visage
Even Botox can't save her
But will she play mother ?

24 Hour darshan channels

They had a vsion
That God was on television
So now it's idiot box heaven
And its twenty four- seven

Where are we heading?

Icons

The rebel is dead
It's bleak days up ahead ?
It won't really hurt
He ll soon be on a T-Shirt

The Beggar

Nothing seems to indicate
That he's controlled by a syndicate
But do a double take
You ll find all his scars are fake
He ain't got a missing limb
As much as a pseudo limp

Sporty Nonsense

The armchair cricket expert

Thinks he wields immense clout
But when the batsman's given out
All he can do is spout
That the umpire's a lout

The new-age football fan

He sports a brand new jersey
But ought to die for heresy
When after a goal scoring melee'
He asks 'Who was Pele?'