Thursday, December 11, 2014

Age of Distractions

The day starts with me reaching out to my cell phone and not the newspaper as in earlier days
Few swipes up and down my smart phone screen and I know the stories which happened when I slept away.

Over hurried breakfast, my hubby is asking me something and I say ‘Yes’ without realizing what he asked
Blame it on the conversations on the cell phone; the personal ones sometimes get bypassed.

Heading to office creates a new ‘Me’ time where I have my FB, LinkedIn updates and RJ to boot
Dense traffic on the road as always, information clutter inside the car and fragmented attention too.

Once at office, the cell phone doesn’t stop ringing, messages flood in steadily and the email box has again reached its max limit
That’s how a typical day starts and ends, just about to focus on something and then a new distraction every minute.

Conversations cross over cubicles sometimes clashing with the voices inside my head
I want to make a point but the moment has already slipped through and forever waylaid.

In midst of resolving a problem and another one is already inching to take its place
I may seem to be involved in one thing but my mind is drifting somewhere else.

Just about to dash to grab my first good meal of the day and as luck would have it, a red flag is raised some where
One quick bite into what will be my half eaten lunch so that the issue gets attention fair and square.

So here I am, back at the workstation to deal with the situation at hand
Only to realize that someone made a mountain out of molehill, that too out of beach sand.

Never ending con calls and inessential meetings makes me wish I had a magic wand
Moving it in quick circles, make everyone disappear and take off to my dream land.

While I am talking to someone on phone at desk, my hand is drawing faces, triangles and squares
And in my mind I am looking forward to the evening get together and what will be my party wear.

As is apparent, our world will continue to get more chaotic, and many choices and options to choose from
What we need to understand are our sacrosanct goals in life and the rest leave outside our mind temple and 'home'.

Wise men have many time said before, our happiness is nothing but being in the present moment to experience a WOW.
And so as I am writing this poem I realized the joyfulness and bliss by just being here in the NOW.

Focus, single mindedness, and concentration are the rare bywords we should cherish and practice daily
In this age of multitasking, mind wandering and distractions, my simple aim in life today is complete the task at hand truthfully.

Being 40!

A spectrum of emotions as baggage, I embark on this journey of introspection,
a feeling of accomplishment and yet many things still undone much to my dissatisfaction.
Been there done that many times and yet to cross the finishing line,
a mixed bag of opportunities life has been so far, often going with the flow & sometimes by design.

When slowing down does not mean a sign of weakness, a new realization has dawned.
Acceptance and moving on, brings a sense of peace, as someone wise said, "This too shall pass."

"This world is just a theater", Shakespeare had philosophically said,
where each one is destined to play a certain part and address.
Yet attempting to write my own script & become the hero, I can look into the mirror squarely and face.

Besides a theater, this world makes a unique market place.
Where now I realize, giving back more than receiving is even more fulfilling and meaningful
in many more ways.

Better late than never is what describes best the present state of mind.
Retrospect and taking stock of what has been right and the rest leave behind.

Living in the moment and enjoying as if this would be (God forbid!) my last day,
many things yet to accomplish, Lord give me wisdom and strength to sustain, I pray.

Midlife is the best place to be unlike what many people say,
wiser from the many experiences of what has been and what could be possible is a hope, I continue to embrace.


Friday, October 31, 2014

Destiny's Children

There lived a young and beautiful couple, not very long ago
in a humble abode they stayed
with two little daughters on whom they used to dote.

They pampered, they indulged yet never too much
Showered them with love, happiness and laughter.
Brought up the kids in a fine environment
truly blessed were they but to the girls it never really did occur.

Perseverance, dedication and sincerity they tried instilling with example
Meaning of unrequited love, which they displayed to them in ample.

They taught them to keep their balance aloft, in times of difficult moments.
And also keep their heads on shoulders, stay grounded and not foment

In spite of life's many troughs and peaks, they made their life seem easy
Never did they realize when tough times came, for the daughters it was always breezy.

Beaches and parks in free evenings, holidays in vacations
Life was full of experiences rich, never a day of dull moment.
Yet keeping the girls on their toes were some dos  and don't s
which never should be forgotten.

If childhood was full of gay abandon, running, playing or climbing an odd tree
As the daughters became a little older, they taught them independence, being purposeful
and ability to foresee.

Sound advice, a helping hand, a shoulder to lean on always
Silently shaping their future, supporting, empowering them in many ways.

And now as they look back, the children realize,
how truly blessed are they and indebted to them forever.
A humble ode dedicated to their parent's selfless life,
are these scant words of praise, we hope do justice even for a moment mere.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

A giant lollypop or a sweet nothing!

Some days back on my way to work, I happened to notice the Lollypop hoardings skirting the Western Express Highway (WEH) on a very short stretch. It was FedEx advertising on them all through.

As I tried to recollect my last memory of these hoardings, I wondered "Had they had become a blind spot to a Mumbaikar like me who travels up and down the WEH twice every weekday?" What with  with our head immersed in our mobile phones, it was quite believable as we don't have time to look out the car window.

For those who have not seen them, Lollypop hoardings are concrete structures literally the shape of what else but a lollypop. They are used for advertising on the flat surface on either side of it's face (see pic below). They came up in the 80's ( I think) and have been their ever since. And mind you, in recessionary times and even beyond we had seen only variety of bird images instead of any advertisements for a very long time.
I thought that as the media trends changed, even these lollypops would have gradually receded into oblivion. But after having seen them yesterday still 'alive and in complete form' with FedEx campaign running on it, it made me immediately infer. If there is one media vehicle which has bravely survived the onslaught of dynamic hoardings and even the fairly young social media, are truly these Lollypop Hoardings - standing tall on the fringe of Western Express Highway near the Mumbai Domestic Airport area. They truly deserve to be the hero of the movie 'Die Hard- Part 6', if ever there is one made.

However, what really amplified my curiosity was, why were the advertisers still using this medium?
What was attracting them to use these hoardings?? Was it the uniqueness of these lollypop hoardings, their few numbers, low advertising rates, the location of these hoardings or the sheer old world charm that the advertisers saw in this format? Now, that's something I am really curious to know. If you happen to have some insights on this medium, do let me know.
A giant lollypop for your thoughts!



Friday, March 21, 2014

What's in a name?


Juliet:
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

That's what Juliet said but I beg to differ with her.
Honestly, this was never intended to be a blog post but in the recent times there have been so many stories I had heard around this topic that it drove me to write this piece. I would not say it has been an inspiring lesson but let's just say I was inspired to write about it. And as a marketer, I can assure you that I am definitely not on the same page as Sir William Shakespeare on this one.

Let me start with the memory of a story I had heard a long time ago which came jogging back to me as I sat down to write on this subject.
Story 1
Legend has it that many years back Madura Garments (now part of Aditya Birla Group) was about to launch a store for its newly launched brand of shirt in India. It was in one of the big metro cities in southern India. The top head honcho of the company was going to unveil the showroom amid lot of fanfare. He arrived very much on time but to be welcomed by an unsightly fascia (front branding) of the shop. Apparently, no one had noticed it till then and he also chose  to grin and bear through the whole proceedings as if all was perfectly fine. He did his job of inaugurating by cutting the ribbon, posing for a few photographs, and then leaving quietly. As expected, all hell broke loose the next morning in his office. He asked his secretary to round up all those involved in the store launch and asked them to meet him in his office immediately. By then even the team involved in the store launch had realized their fatal oversight and lumbered inside his cabin like lambs to the slaughter house. And as they say, rest is history!
By now you must be wondering what was the unsightly fascia branding which really got his goat. Believe it or not some one in the marketing team had outsourced the store branding to a painter who apparently didn't know his ABC's so instead of the fascia that should have read Van Heusen it ended up as Van Hussain.

Story 2
A couple of months back my colleague and her family members had been on a holiday to some place in North India. It was a big group and hence all the travel arrangements were dutifully done through a travel agent. The family landed at the destined airport, collected their baggage and headed towards the exit gate. As is a normal case, they expected someone with a placard to welcome them and take them to their hotel. Unfortunately, it didn't exactly happen that way. They scanned every placard which was being thrust into their face. None of the ten family members could locate either their name or surname on any of the placards bobbing up and down over the sea of heads. My colleague's father-in-law checked, her husband checked, even the youngest member of the family scoured but could not find the person nor placard they were looking for. It had been almost close to 45 minutes and now they had all started getting impatient and irritated for not being able to find the bloke. The travel agent was assuring over the phone that he had sent a person but his words now started ringing hollow after a tiring hour long scouring and searching.
Finally, my colleague's husband saw someone standing in the crowd with an unusual name pasted on the placard. Given the name, it seemed almost funny and unreal to him. He put two and two together and saw a glimmer of hope shining right in front of him. He walked up to the bloke with the placard and asked him the name of travel agent he worked for and the hotel he was to take his guests to. When he confirmed the same travel agent name and the hotel name, it all fell in place. It was precisely this guy they had been searching all over the airport and it was as if they had finally unearthed him under the heap of people. All the tension, irritation and helplessness of few minutes back dissolved into hearty peals of laughter when the family members saw the unusual but familiar name printed on the placard. 

My friend's family name is Gupte but you won't believe, the placard actually had 'Chhatrapati Shivaji' written on it. Yes, you read that right. The name of the fearless warrior King Chhatrapati Shivaji who has famously been dead since April 3, 1680. I am very sure that the great Shivaji Maharaj himself would have laughed his guts out in his grave after hearing this one.
Someone naive at the travel agent's office who desperately needed lessons in History had definitely goofed up in communication. Interchanged the family name and the name of the airport they were arriving from. Whatever the confusion, the family's holiday had definitely started on a hysterical 'war footing'.

And many such short stories...
There have been countless stories around how names have been mispronounced by those uninitiated. Here are a couple of quick ones which I know of, to make you believe in the real power of name and why Juliet was absolutely wrong.
A weekend back, two of my friend's had gone to a nearby bar to down a couple of beers. They asked the attendant which brand they had stock of. The attendant promptly replied 'Karuna' and 'Honeycan'. For a minute both could not believe their ears and thought either they had heard him wrong or these were probably new brands in the market. They asked him again and when he repeated the same names, it suddenly struck them. What he meant was Corona and Heineken and oh, such a tragedy for the marketing managers of these two world famous brands. They would surely not have appreciated this unintended blunder. But my friends happily downed one two many over this incident.
And then there is my colleague in office whose name is Mary Fernandes which is as simple a name can be. But guess what, even that name gets distorted by the many vendors she deals with. All the invoices and bills she receives, either address her as Merry or Marry but never Mary. And now she is  living with the fact that they are never going to improve in spite of the many corrections and dressing downs. She dreads the day when they will start addressing her as 'Meri'.
So there you are.
What's in a name? is what Shakespeare famously wrote in Romeo and Juliet, but I say, if not for the name, we would surely have a complete loss of identity and be left highly confused as all the above stories pointedly prove.

Sunday, January 05, 2014

A letter to my dearest school


My Dearest School,
Here is an honest confession coming your way from one of your progeny. I am writing an open and heartfelt letter to you for the first time in the last 25 years. My sincere apologies for the inexcusable delay and no words can undo this thoughtless inaction of so many years. Albeit awfully late, by the time you finish reading this piece I am hoping you would have softened your stand towards me.
Indeed a very long time to connect back to you, my alma mater, a very beautiful and prodigious institution. And what better occasion than now when you are completing 50 golden years of your remarkable existence.

As I sit down to write to you, it has instinctively opened the floodgates of all the sweet and delightful memories of you and everything that’s part of you. For me, you are like this great matriarch watching protectively over its little children all through the day. Sheltered by your discerning eyes, whether when we are running and playing with gay abandon, outside on the vast playground or studying in the close confines of the classroom, whether when we are carelessly experimenting with beakers and tubes in the labs or during the recesses when we tumble out with unbridled enthusiasm. Your solid silent protective presence, I feel even today.

There are also some fun and childlike moments I carry with me, about my growing up times with you. It was the time of homework - not always completed on time, sitting on the last bench in class– chatting and hoping that me and my friend won’t get caught, black polished shoes/white clean socks – an intense regime for me, red hairband – that never stayed on the head, PT exercises – and the art of slacking off slyly, short and long recess - sharing interesting stories over tiffin boxes with my school buddies, being in the classroom during sessions – and sometimes not really being there (figuratively speaking), being an outstanding student -for truly standing outside class(thankfully, not many times), Ranks and Report cards – The moment of bitter truth and many such indelible memories that have stayed with me even after all these years.

Another great quality about you is that you are truly all-encompassing. A precise reflection of our city- Mumbai, the real melting pot. We the students come from all cross sections of life, diverse social and economic backgrounds, different classes, castes and what not. And yet, you embrace all of us with equal magnanimity and affection. We children never ever feel different from one another in your loving hold in spite of the inherent differences within us. That is a wonderful trait very few schools can either embody or boast of.

You are the epitome of dynamism and silent fortitude, brimming with energy of thousands of kids cozily ensconced in your warm embrace. Whether learning by rote systematically in class rooms or shouting out to each other from school buses, whether singing harmoniously during prayer time or kicking up a ruckus on the playground for no rhyme or reason, whether marching in a synchronized upright stance in their NCC and RSP uniforms or cheering on top of their lungs for their favorite Kabaddi team, whether somberly answering the exam papers for unit tests or final exams or bustling with renewed energy on hearing the last bell ring for the day. The energy and exuberance of your lively environment can never be replicated by any other.

You, my dear school always encourage and inspire us to do well and perform to the best of our capabilities. Whether it is the English or Math scholarship exams, singing, dancing, elocution or drama competitions, Cricket or Kabaddi inter-school tournaments, handwriting or craft competitions or quiz contests you push us to do our best. Always nurturing and growing new talent under your able guidance. It’s no wonder then that many great stalwarts and luminaries from various spheres of life have been conceived and born out of your hallowed womb and continue to do so.

And so finally, I find myself asking this hard question to myself. What have I given you (my dear school) in all these years? Well, all I can say is that I have only taken you and your existence for granted, like we do all those who we truly love and can’t do without. But still, you never ever complained. You always personify the grace and poise befitting a noble matriarch.

So strong is my feeling and attachment for you my dear school that I cannot live without feeling fervently or impassioned for you. I adore you, lovingly complain about you, I am passionate about you, reminisce about you, also sometimes (yeah, sometimes) talk judgmentally and critically about you but at the end of it all I am happy that I am a part of you and I sincerely am proud of it!

It’s been an incredulously long 25 years from that momentous day when I crossed over the threshold of your sheltered, carefree and happy upbringing which I enjoyed for more than a decade. It just seems like yesterday that this misty eyed adolescent looked back with a twinge of sadness to bid adieu to you and the entire ecosystem that was Indian Education Society, English Medium School aka King George English Medium School. How time flies! Though it was with a heavy heart that I turned around the corner and simply lost sight of you so many years back, I am very sure that you stimulate the same warm feelings in thousands of children who came before and after me in the last 5 decades. Providing relentlessly the same motherly guidance and affection and help them soar to greater and new heights in their life.

As you complete your 50 golden years of your remarkable existence I can’t help but salute and thank you my dear school, you have been the beacon of wisdom and inspiration for me and many generations of students. This letter also cannot be ever complete without me saying a big thank you to all the wonderful principals, teachers, administrators and staff of the entire school for their steadfast dedication and tremendous contribution to the field of education, and society as a whole. And more importantly, for touching our life beautifully as only they could.

To the mother of all schools, Maa Tuzhe Salaam!

Last but not the least; I would like to close my letter with these beautiful lyrics from a popular song which aptly personifies my feelings for you, my beloved school.

Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.


Thank you,
Yours sincerely,
Priya Wagle Awasare – Batch of 1989


 Above : Early evening of 4th Jan, 2014 with the ex students just about pouring in to celebrate 50 years of IES English Medium School now known as V.N.Sule Guruji Vidyalaya
 Above : Sameer gets to fulfill his long withheld yearning, finally!
 Above : Mrudula, Shruti, Chandani, urs truly, Anita, Amita, Vaishali, Sameer, Amrita, Swati and Nilesh. The gang of 'B' division poses outside its class...but misses the charm of the open balconies which have now been grilled.

 Above : A little fun in the corridor where some were involuntarily declared 'outstanding students' many moons back.

Above : Reliving the moments of the past...sitting in the same classroom as we did 25 years back. Though this time breaking the ritual... guys and girls actually sitting together on the same bench. :)


Image Creative courtesy: Aparna Wagle Telang
Pics courtesy: Chandani Fernandes, Mrudula Kulkarni and Sameer Warik