christ!mas prayer

our client who likes art in A1

thank you sir
for your business

and ruining my sleep

and my appetite

and my grey hairs

and total and complete paranoia!

heres a token from us to you sir

we hope you like the chocolates

and we pray that you continue in the same vein in 2011

and that we continue kissing your precious posterior

in the hope of ultimate redemption

- a[d]men

10 years of [b]advertising...

a rather significant day for us today. we completed 10 years in the demonic, weird, wired, wicked, demented and very real world of advertising! the longest we have worked in any industry!


however, we offer no paens to this way of life. wild, exhilarating, breathless, we think not! all we can think of is that we need more sleep. and that st. bernardine of siena, the patron saint of advertising [oxymoron!!?] is also the patron saint of gamblers...


we got into this world thanks to a lady. and we may leave it thanks to a woman. for we realise that our latent bluntness bodes no good for a lucrative career in an industry that demands the honeyed word instead of a kick in the gluteals! where neuroses and fantasies exist merely to cover for ineptitude, crassness, lack of focus and alternate career options! an industry where the key words are 'client' and 'servicing', which are also key words in the world's oldest profession [but then isnt advertising the world's 2nd oldest profession...??]


but perhaps we shall be richer for the experience! for we have learned that creativity does not depend on the right  side of the brain any more - it can be downloaded! and that an industry that professes to be creative has far too many business school apologists running it!


and we close this wee post on the eve of the biggest [b]advert created. for the santa of today is no jolly, pot-bellied bearer of gifts but merely an illustration from harper's bazaar. sorry to rein on any parades, my deer!

matrimoany - part 2

our readers [for there are 2!] will have to bear with us while we let off on the above, in light of recent happenings on this front. we had no idea getting into the holy state was so fraught! the road thereto seems to be littered with bumps, obstacles and detours. and when we look around and see some of the mariés [who look like neanderthals on a night out] latched onto what can only be called visions, we tend to bemoan our fate. for we seem to attract the flotsam of the opposite sex. kindhearted they may be but fair of face they are not. and we wonder where these have vanished. or [as we said to the pater in anguish not 24 hours ago after yet another narrow escape] are we destined to meet orks. granted we do not set the world on fire with our bose-like features but at least people do not recoil in fright on seeing us [or so we think]!


but then, as is our wont, we speculate on the reasons thereof, and wonder if those who snog the visions have something else. personality? money? big car? amatory skills? or are the visions attracted to them precisely because their comeliness is heightened in juxtaposition to a boris-karloff reject?


perhaps we should walk into a lamp-post...

phone-y state of being!

we dont just change phones - we change lifestyles. that is our considered conclusion after last week. our berry was consigned to wherever defunct berries are consigned - something to do with the motherboard. given our acute sense of nono-technology we did not dwell much on the fate and scouted around for options as we were virtually cut off and faced a sense of loss!


at first, like adam, we decided to take a byte out of apple and try what sounded like a self-centered phone. didnt  work - this sandy outpost of civilisation is out of jobs and out of steve's product. quite a vexed situation. since we are marginally crack-berried, we cast our net further and looked for similar touchy-feely phones with mail facilities. chanced upon something called htc wildfire. quite an antithesis to our rather andropausal outlook on life en ce moment. and, like with a new bride, we are slowly unravelling its mysteries. the first thing we realised is that we are all thumbs when it comes to touch-sensitive situations [which no doubt explains our current singularity]. we generally go hell for leather when it comes to the touch and here it dont work that way! gentle,easy, feathery finger movements! however we are an adept learner and shall prevail!


so out went the berry, 3 chargers [master, office and car], 2 cd sets and what look like 14 instruction manuals [opened nary a one] and in came in a wildfire, 3 chargers [master, office and car], no cd sets and 2 flimsies in arabic, which reading right to left, makes as much sense to us as reading it left to right. so we have to unravel the delights of this instrument rather like peeling a banana.


and oh, this thing has whats called an android whatchacallit. developed by those who help seek. and we quite like its tagline. reflects our style...

the tyranny of separation

the title is not our own - pinched it from somewhere! however the thoughts herein expressed are entirely our own!

the phrase triggered off a rush of memories - we suddenly realised that separation had been an integral part of our life since we were a wee lad of 8 summers. when younger sibling [younger by 4 months] went off to parts north [for the benefit of non-indian readers as and when they stumble across this wee gem of prose: we make no distinction between cousins, blood brothers, siblings twice removed and so on].

passing through teenage periods of 'wishing to be separated from divers irritants' we went through a greater pang of separation in the early 90s when yet another sibling [practically our twin soul] heeded horace greeley's advice and proceeded west [where he has remained since, causing little alarm and anxiety]. this prompted us to proceed nor'west in 1992, at which point we realised that separation could occur in familial, culinary and societal ties. those were the days before emails, twits, fbook, blogs and other means of bridging distances and we suffered! however this also made  us value relationships more, and even manuscribed epistles became a welcome break from the tyrant [since we are nostalgia personified, we have still retained many of the letters and photos received]. we still go through pangs when we look back and realised that we missed out on the growth years of a certain quartet - thank god for photos at least!

over the 18 years thereafter, we have jetted in and out of the native and have always felt a twinge of lachrymosity on leaving people [even for a short while]. sometimes places too. but thanks to mr. berners-lee and other web-acolytes down the years, we have been able to digitally bridge the distances. of course certain distances will never be bridged and we allow ourself a rare flash of anger at certain people, just, going...

we have hardened ourself over the years and do not let most people affect us thusly any more. however in recent weeks we have realised that certain people are part of our fabric with or without digital or analog means. which has led us to the epiphany of the day - separation can be overcome if the desire to remain linked is sustained.

and to some people who have been part of the fabric for well nigh a quarter of a century, we raise our hat in salute for taking the trouble!

i-time: the travails of trying to byte the apple

alas and alack! we are facing a crisis of rather disturbing proportions - our beloved berry is about to give up. battery life exhausted, no replacement battery available and we are beside our [considerable] selves!


of late we have been warily eyeing the various products from a certain apple orchard. not for any particular against-the-tide reason, but more out of a nod to our latent geekiness! and in light of the berry grave situation that we are facing we have turned our attenton to the i-phone. given our usually precarious fiscal condition, the current offer from leading telecom operator in this here outpost made our native soul go pitter patter - free instrument on signing up for an annual package. seemed like a no-brainer!


so off we went in search of the promised instrument - only to draw a blank at all the 4 places we hared to in the quest! 2 did not sell the instrument as they were rather virginal and preferred their own folk. the other 2 did not have 'em!! come back saturday was i told, rather gruffly by exasperated looking flat-faced salesmen. would have thumped them if we did not come from more refined stock than them!


so on a quiet thursday afternoon in dobuy, the question is will i-phone or wont i-phone [like the cat i' the adage]...

the evolution of humans

first came the human being
then came the human bing - the human who knows everything
and now we see the human bling - the human who shows everything

dobuy is the spiritual home of the last-mentioned and we had occasion recently to observe the latest specimen in action. mainly of the female persuasion but a few of the other sex too. and 'twas fascinating to see how bling could cover diverse product categories - nails to clothes to mobile phones to sports to books to authors... plenty of hand waving and twirling to draw the bling-lines!


given our rather blunt nature and take on currently lived life, we were amused and also a touch annoyed at such fripperie. but we let live, for while there may be larger issues worthy of communal discussion, existential dilemmas occur to even the feather-headed. may their tribe shine on!

and people complain when i speak in french...

what more could we ask for?

one of those days when you look on the world through clear glass [cant afford coloured lenses, which is quite de rigueur in dobuy]. a day when a cricket legend made it worth getting up at the crack of dawn [on a friday 9 am IS dawn] for this cricket leg end.


given our cricketing heritage [familial and place of origin] we tend to take cricket at a somewhat closer-than-arm's-length distance. and while we have not had the fortune of meeting the truly greats, meeting dave whatmore today was for us a grand experience. and what made it better was his knowledge of our native area!


our thoughts flit to ranji, vinoo, allan, michaels, colin, ian and gordon [amongst others] this day! when in dobuy, be a chinaman!!

conditioned air!

on a day of general gloom and cafard-ish muses came a dollop of sunshine - the ancestral demense is now air-conditioned! conditioned air has always been a quest for that part of mankind that inhabits sudoriferous climes, but we never really felt the need, even in the sandy vastness of dobuy. however, a recent downgrading of the pater's health parameters back in the native necessitated this installation and we are feeling quite chuffed!


as always this triggered a train of thought leading us to speculate on conditioned air processes over the centuries. the aztecs and other tribes closer to the big bang than current specimens went au naturel with just the jollies hidden. further away from the big bang the japanese - that race of aggressive portability - came out with the foldable hand-held fan [the akomeogi] which like all good japanese things made its way round the planet. victorian england was quite a fan of fans as evidenced by several dozen images of queen vic clutching them.


in the native, where the heat, to the gora-sahib, was akin to the heat of the big bang, the fan was at once a symbol of royalty, a languid show of grace and a tool to cool. the pankha came out of british bengal and soon was a status symbol.


here in the sands we condition air from the loo to the blue! our tourist pitch to lure unsuspecting friends and family is: 'ac to come to dobuy and ac to stay'. paradoxically, in our humble dacha we have the con on at full tilt and use a thick quilt to keep warm [the duality of the gemini...!]


now that the guv is about to become a cooler dude [was always a cool one!] we raise a glass of chablis and wish him a rapid recovery! santé!

the art of uncorking champagne

we never stop learning. especially where spiritual quests are concerned.


this tutorial from the telegraph, london: with the festive season going on people have lots of reasons to pop that bottle of bubbly and now scientists at Coventry University have developed a mathematical formula which enables people to uncork the bottle without wasting even a single drop of champagne.


the formula, which has been named "smith's law" after its founder, dr. steve smith, is p = t / 4.5 + 1, where p stands for pressure and t indicates the temperature.

it is based on the well-known fact that the pressure in a typical bottle of champagne at room temperature is equivalent to the pressure of a double - decker bus tyre.
as per the formula to stop the cork from flying off, the temperature of the liquid should be between 5C and 7C, which means that the pressure will be 2 to 2.5 atmospheres, a third lower than when the bottle is at room temperature.
the researcher says that keeping the temperature right is the most important thing as if you get the temperature right, the pressure will be right and you will be able to enjoy the champagne at its best.

bertie will be pleased methinks. 

since we are a four letter word...

...we like four letter stuff: food, book, trvl, quiz, wine, gals, cars, wrds, four, bars, moms, pops

herbie at 1

the proverbial 'how time flies' context - herbie is already a year old! actually the whole saga of driving lessons, road tests, acquiring the license and herbie's arrival  into our life is worthy of a story at least! but we shall spare our readers the trauma - suffice to say that dobuy is not the easiest place for indians to get a driver's license - used as they are to considerable 'license' in the system back home!


herbie came home at 7 pm on 28 july 2009 and we missed a turning on the drive home. went about 10 kms out of our way before we could find an exit to turn back! guess thats what happens when you dont take time to understand the other part of the duality - we took just 10 mins to approve her and it was not exactly love at first steer!


the first 1000 kms were driven at a stately 80 kmph so that she could get her RPMs in order. then came october 2009 and daily trips to abu dhabi for a project. 15 days and she clocked up 3000 kms without a grimace. and thats when we fell completely for her. dusty, scratched and her first bump but she drove like a dream! and still does. and now 30,000 kms later, she has a few more bumps but her song is as sweet as the first day! and the last 12 months for us have not been the same!


so happy bday herbie! you make our days and most nights comfortable!

would-be writers and anticipated blocks

we have been toying with the idea of writing. not with any specific aim but more to check if what people say about our skills is true or not. rather gratuitous thinking we agree. if we are unable to manage a blog, how can we manage larger tomes. but perhaps the challenge is within rather without. a good writer, or so we are told, is disciplined enough to churn out x pages / words per day. but to our naive sensibility, that seems a paradox - why discipline something that depends more on free thought?

however as a consumer of much and varied literature, we  can appreciate that a certain order of the thought process is mandatory for the world thrives on order. systems. processes. hence word-processor, and not word-originator! and we also realise that for writing to be productive [read paying] systematic output is the norm, rather than discrete outbursts during momentary calm periods in an otherwise frenetic life! and perhaps inculcating this as a habit willhelp enforce order in our working life.

a post a day - doesnt seem much does it now?!

fits and starts

like the trabants of old, our blogs appear in fits and starts :) rather than identifying cause we would rather check the effect - our audience is deprived of updates from the sands of dobuy!


work, holiday plans, general inertia and le cafard - reasons four why the posts don't pour!


let us hope the clouds part and the blogosphere is enriched with our humble offerings.


till then, festina lente!

things we would not want bill s.peare to hear

over 4 years in dobuy we have heard various musical and grating renditions of the queen's language, especially by the gentlefolk from the more rugged and lawless parts of the land of the pure.


we have also read written renditions which would make himmler writhe in horrendous wonder.


but this line gleaned from that fine flag-bearer of the language - the letters to the times page - made us blanch,  twist, shudder, groan and entertain homicidal thoughts about the writer, especially since he is from our land - the last bastion of english "as she is spoken" after the motherland:


"I am **** from india very accept when I hered about this news.this was the worst crash in libia.I just pray for victims family."


we salute the writer's sentiment, obviously heartfelt. we do not condone his mangling of the language. men have been decapitated for less.

mister lotus!

a lady friend has suggested that we apply for and acquire a native civilian award. pertinent to note that the action to be taken is in the form of an application rather than wait for the bell of destiny to toll! such is the state of affairs in an hitherto peerless recognition. we do not wish to sound like mr. mehta so shall avoid the puce-faced pontification at this juncture.


we were happy to have had the conversation with our lady friend - left us en bonne humeur after a trying day at the shop. we earnestly hope these conversations continue apace and that a viva voce is imminent!


what say lady friend?

some more things we love reading post-lunch

varenicline is a partial agonist of the α₄β₂ subtype of the nicotinic acetylcholine receptor. in addition it acts on α₃β₄ and weakly on α₃β₂ and α₆-containing receptors. a full agonism was displayed on α₇-receptors.^[4]

acting as an agonist varenicline binds to, and partially stimulates, the receptor without creating a full nicotine effect on the release of dopamine. varenicline also competitively binds to α₄β₂receptors blocking the ability of nicotine to stimulate the central nervous mesolimbic dopamine system.

indeed.

whither mid-life crisis...

some people suffer MLC, some acquire MLC and some have MLC thrust upon them.
our question: when life has not commenced, whither MLC?
but we do seem to be displaying certain traits which could be classified under MLC:
- irritability
- inability to sustain or start meaningful relationships
- lack of focus
- no interest in previously enjoyed hobbies / pastimes / activities
- emotional coldness
- feeling of being overwhelmed at work or in personal situations [feeling out of control]
- inattentiveness
- sexual frustration
- lack of motivation


so what do we do with all these decidedly inelegant trappings? so far we have favoured escapism - preferring our own company, refusing opportunities for social outings, staying indoors with a book, auto-satisfaction... we also sometimes wonder whether we are like this due to tiredness, getting into situations or mindsets that create angst / torpor / feelings of inadequacy. we find ourself getting increasingly bogged down and stuck in a mindless routine that adds no value to our life.


we sometimes feel we need a goal. a focus. perhaps this should be explored.
the reason this post is in a blog on dobuy? our current lifestyle and situation emanate from our work conditions. which are not to our liking.


we will explore this further...

Double-O Say When!

we scan the news of an afternoon, primarily to ward off post-prandial drowsiness. current headlines caught our attention:

latest news

FREIDA PINTO TO BE A BOND GIRL

 [elle uk, 22/3]
then the next headline came in:

Freida Pinto’s not the Bond girl…yet

[masala.com, dubai, 22/3]
felt fleeting sympathy for the pore gel. mean to say it cant be pleasant to be on the edge like this all the time! P is not to B? 007 we wait for confirmation, our pulse racing slightly...!


but we are quite amazed that this gal-next-door [chinchpokli not santa monica] has actually managed to reach this far on the strength of one movie [which we resolutely refuse to watch]. we are the last one to carp about looks but we might be driven to expand vociferously where this one is concerned. the rosetta stone looked better. and we thought that Mr. B preferred a certain high level of oomphiness in his female companions! we were further saddened to hear that FP is a l'oréal girl.


are there no standards anymore?

better latex than never...

read in the times: "...says Jagdish Upadhyay, who is in charge of managing condoms for the UNFPA". from m.d. to m.c. - stiff competition? could be useful for elections in china...! 
we only hope the gent is a user too!

got to have java now…

this is what oxford boffins do on their tea breaks [reported in the daily mail recently]:

if you are among those who desperately need a midmorning coffee break, then go for it at 11 a.m., as scientists claim a formula they have devised proves that 'elevenses' is the best time to drink your brew. the oxford university research also shows that a tasty americano is not the only requirement — lights, music, aroma and good company need to be added to the mix.

the experts developed the formula (M = 0.5 x F + (0.5 x E + 0.3 x P + 0.15 x C + 0.05 x T) by combining various factors such as great flavour (F) with the perfect environment (E), the container it comes in (P), who you drink coffee with (C) and the time of day you enjoy your coffee break (T) to create the most enjoyable coffee moment (M).

after applying this formula, the scientists calculated that 11am seemed to be the best time to have a coffee break, in a well-lit room with friends and nice music in the background.  prof. charles spence, from the department of experimental psychology at oxford university, who led the research, said: "the formula describes how to create the perfect coffee moment at home or at work. we have known for some time that our taste buds are a vital part of the taste experience. however, we can now pinpoint the exact sensory conditions required to enjoy coffee, or any other food and drink", he said.



thought the frogs would have got this first…!

ali in wonderland

we were thinking, and having thought, our twoughts [tweets in the mind] turned to this topic.


we do not presume to tinker with established literary output! however certain fables could do with a brush and touch-up, and lewis carroll would no doubt approve when we adapt his fable to a new-age 'foible', to wit dobuy…!


'tis truly a wonderland:

• world's tallest building
• world's largest indoor ski slope
• world's largest artificial islands
• world's most expensive hotel
• world's largest theme park
• world's largest shopping mall
• world's first underwater luxury resort
• and the clincher: the only city in the mena region with 2 baxis!

no wonder your average lad would feel lost in all this!

matrimo[a]ny

we are writing in angst, frustration and a large dollop of cynicism.

our attempts at converting the marital status of a deserving woman have so far come to nought. fair and not-so-fair eves have united in their unwillingness to link their lot with us and the reasons thereof strike us as either prudish, psychobabble or downright demented. to list the top three:

1. we live in dobuy

2. we have carnivorous dietary habits

3. dk/cs

those who did approach us have been politely [we hope] told to buzz off as their descriptions of self and ideal mate are wild swings of fantasy and grevious injury to the language [text reproduced from a popular matrisite of which we are a paid member till today evening; italics ours]:

-          want a person of similar tests [physicist, iit]

 indeed – we are not so scholarly

-          i am simple living high thinking

such a ghastly name

-          i come from a close knit family

didn’t know ‘stitch in time saves nine’ referred to vasectomies…

-          i want smart looking descent man. the 2 are mutually exclusive- this is sheer fantasy

-          basically i’m loving. ah! and where were you all my life…?

-          looking for a honest guy. have you tried your local incarceration facility?

we thought our profile of the ideal mate was not so complicated – worldy, similar age bracket, more head than face and ready for what george washington called ‘the foundation of happiness or misery’. and we offer what no other man can offer – ourselves! plus bed tea, sarcastic sense of humour and a largish girth [thereby giving more to like].

so what gives??

dhow jones index - the burj khalifa

going over the top has a new meaning...


it dont get any bigger! we have seen it grow from a few metres to 828 metres, and that is something we shall tell the grandkids [not necessarily ours...].

thats what it looks like from the top...


and its cheaper to buy an apartment here than in bombay or delhi. just shows there's one every minute and that one is usually from the indies.


should plan a cuppa at the top though. anybody interested?

2010...

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