Just thought of dropping by, after the yearly monsoon clouds passed its way through my city.
After my arrival in Pune, my keyboard has been spinning those morbid tales at work. Some metrics, some dashboards and so much more ... I can’t even remember all. The more it takes a toll on my creative life, the more I get fluttered at the thought that I will have to write again.
Coupled with that some of my friends have stopped writing too ... how I wish they kept creating those subtle images of life. Today, I visited those friends who continue to write ... the creative ones ... who have continued to spin their words on web.
I don’t make promises, since I can’t break them. A day may come when I get the material to start writing again. But then such a day seems distant.
Don’t lose heart, and why would you lose it? An idle mind has stopped blabbering is no big deal. Good for the world as a whole, a devil’s workshop is better off being closed.
But the devil in me refuses to die ... may be some darkness will beckon again.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Say No to Irritating Advertisers
Advertisers from the world … disunite!
Guess advertising is going from one height to the other. They can kill you for your lack of patience, but they will never make the advertisers impatient. Good or bad, we need advertising, or how else you know about a product (or concept)?
Man likes to brag about something that he makes or owns, and other men fall for it. Sheer jealousy, or being trapped under the act of hard selling.
One would never know.
I understand the way advertisers work overnight to do a promo, and then come out with the target consumer segment to work on their thought process. This is a artistically carved out scientific process (enough to get someone mad!). A noted bank recently targeted the senior citizen customer segment, and in the process, made them look a lot younger.
Looked like they lost the point. Good for people like us, who are on the verge of getting senior soon!
But then, I still don’t understand whether there’s enough data with advertisers for us to really fall for. Having seen the advertising styles from the days of black and white billboards and ad prints, to the chic and glaze of today’s ads, I have hardly been encouraged by this ‘professional bragging’.
A recent case has been a few advertisers who are actively trying to promote some medical products as comments to my blog posts. I deleted a few last week, but they come back.
Let me honestly tell these advertisers: No use pal, please look out for some other place, I am not a great consumer of medicines, neither will I encourage people to use medication.
For me, a great health is the one which stays fit naturally.
The question still remains. Why are we so annoyed at the callers, the TV ad slots and the occasional ad ‘outburst’ that we see on the web pages?
Even though we like to fall for these traps, we also detest them since they always end up being over-hyped, and sometime even feel stupid. Competition in market place is fine, but this random use of selling skills to hype up the product (or concept) is definitely not fool-proof. They just seem to be man’s stupid sense at work, and sometimes we get irritated at the way they are carried out.
Negative publicity is also good, they will still argue.
One would never know, but then there was a time when consumption was definitely not guided by advertisements. The only ‘advertisement’ could be roadside sellers hawking for their goods. Think a few centuries back, business was wholesome. And the cost to advertising was never added as part of the costing for the product (or concept).
Goods could be cheap, in case we spend less on selling them on the internet, media or on roadsides. Our irritation at ads will be on a lesser curve.
Mr. Finance Minister, in this times of extreme price rise, will you just spend a few minutes going through this post of mine?
Some cost can be effectively reduced. I am scared of over-publicity, and so in case there are quite a few men and women like me, we can collectively voice our apprehensions over those who promote hard selling.
This will reduce costs, and can effectively bring down prices, even if marginally.
Guess advertising is going from one height to the other. They can kill you for your lack of patience, but they will never make the advertisers impatient. Good or bad, we need advertising, or how else you know about a product (or concept)?
Man likes to brag about something that he makes or owns, and other men fall for it. Sheer jealousy, or being trapped under the act of hard selling.
One would never know.
I understand the way advertisers work overnight to do a promo, and then come out with the target consumer segment to work on their thought process. This is a artistically carved out scientific process (enough to get someone mad!). A noted bank recently targeted the senior citizen customer segment, and in the process, made them look a lot younger.
Looked like they lost the point. Good for people like us, who are on the verge of getting senior soon!
But then, I still don’t understand whether there’s enough data with advertisers for us to really fall for. Having seen the advertising styles from the days of black and white billboards and ad prints, to the chic and glaze of today’s ads, I have hardly been encouraged by this ‘professional bragging’.
A recent case has been a few advertisers who are actively trying to promote some medical products as comments to my blog posts. I deleted a few last week, but they come back.
Let me honestly tell these advertisers: No use pal, please look out for some other place, I am not a great consumer of medicines, neither will I encourage people to use medication.
For me, a great health is the one which stays fit naturally.
The question still remains. Why are we so annoyed at the callers, the TV ad slots and the occasional ad ‘outburst’ that we see on the web pages?
Even though we like to fall for these traps, we also detest them since they always end up being over-hyped, and sometime even feel stupid. Competition in market place is fine, but this random use of selling skills to hype up the product (or concept) is definitely not fool-proof. They just seem to be man’s stupid sense at work, and sometimes we get irritated at the way they are carried out.
Negative publicity is also good, they will still argue.
One would never know, but then there was a time when consumption was definitely not guided by advertisements. The only ‘advertisement’ could be roadside sellers hawking for their goods. Think a few centuries back, business was wholesome. And the cost to advertising was never added as part of the costing for the product (or concept).
Goods could be cheap, in case we spend less on selling them on the internet, media or on roadsides. Our irritation at ads will be on a lesser curve.
Mr. Finance Minister, in this times of extreme price rise, will you just spend a few minutes going through this post of mine?
Some cost can be effectively reduced. I am scared of over-publicity, and so in case there are quite a few men and women like me, we can collectively voice our apprehensions over those who promote hard selling.
This will reduce costs, and can effectively bring down prices, even if marginally.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Need to think hard … or hardly think
When subtleties of life are overpowered, it usually leaves a feeling of dejection.
At no point of time a writer’s voice is less challenged than the time when the mind is in introspection. A deep thinking may be, or be with an urge to come out with a dialogue between the soul and the self, deep within.
Usually the time frame is not something I worry about. There’s no deadline of thoughts, in deep thinking, if ever it was the prerogative of an idle mind. It can be months, years or even decades of soul-searching looking for that conscious reason to explore.
Is there an end to exploring the niceties of nature? Is there some conclusion in exploring the human mind?
There is this need to continue, and the sense of continuity brings forth a feeling of exploration … a sense of continuum. I am no writer, but my thoughts still flow in that direction.
A nice breeze sometimes forces itself into my living room. The curtains get ruffled, and the freshness of purity seeps in for a trivial moment.
My soul feels blessed, by nature, at least. For some tormented minds, blessing has a literal meaning … naturally, I feel it. To that end, the soothing breeze breathes continuity into my thoughts … albeit with some freshness.
I see compatriots get into print, some ideas half-cooked, others craving for attention. Writing nowadays has become a ‘profession’, I hated that word when it compelled me to a workplace with defined dictum of decency and scrutiny. A profession can’t always be the sanctity of work, these days the lure of the penny makes it attractive.
Only day before yesterday, I was breathing through some pages in one corner of the Crossword store. I fathomed through the ordeals of Anne Frank, some moments in Gandhi’s colossal work in My Experiments with Truth. They still seemed so real, the content so ideally merged with the continuum of thought.
Writers are not born, they are gifted with the art of expressing through written words.
May be.
On another aisle, contemporary creations desperately asking for a ‘peep out’. Mostly bloggers, some are not even a year or two old, writing their stories. The tantalizing, salacious, transparent real life stories of our times.
Over these years, I have developed a sense not to criticize any writing. All writing is normal, I feel, while some are productive.
If a Crossword can have the twain meet, why does the society deprive to think? I speak to myself … where has the soul in writing gone? Or is it very much there, hidden for people like me to find out. They play hide and seek, like those immortal pages from the holocaust days … straight from the pens of Anne Frank.
At no point of time a writer’s voice is less challenged than the time when the mind is in introspection. A deep thinking may be, or be with an urge to come out with a dialogue between the soul and the self, deep within.
Usually the time frame is not something I worry about. There’s no deadline of thoughts, in deep thinking, if ever it was the prerogative of an idle mind. It can be months, years or even decades of soul-searching looking for that conscious reason to explore.
Is there an end to exploring the niceties of nature? Is there some conclusion in exploring the human mind?
There is this need to continue, and the sense of continuity brings forth a feeling of exploration … a sense of continuum. I am no writer, but my thoughts still flow in that direction.
A nice breeze sometimes forces itself into my living room. The curtains get ruffled, and the freshness of purity seeps in for a trivial moment.
My soul feels blessed, by nature, at least. For some tormented minds, blessing has a literal meaning … naturally, I feel it. To that end, the soothing breeze breathes continuity into my thoughts … albeit with some freshness.
I see compatriots get into print, some ideas half-cooked, others craving for attention. Writing nowadays has become a ‘profession’, I hated that word when it compelled me to a workplace with defined dictum of decency and scrutiny. A profession can’t always be the sanctity of work, these days the lure of the penny makes it attractive.
Only day before yesterday, I was breathing through some pages in one corner of the Crossword store. I fathomed through the ordeals of Anne Frank, some moments in Gandhi’s colossal work in My Experiments with Truth. They still seemed so real, the content so ideally merged with the continuum of thought.
Writers are not born, they are gifted with the art of expressing through written words.
May be.
On another aisle, contemporary creations desperately asking for a ‘peep out’. Mostly bloggers, some are not even a year or two old, writing their stories. The tantalizing, salacious, transparent real life stories of our times.
Over these years, I have developed a sense not to criticize any writing. All writing is normal, I feel, while some are productive.
If a Crossword can have the twain meet, why does the society deprive to think? I speak to myself … where has the soul in writing gone? Or is it very much there, hidden for people like me to find out. They play hide and seek, like those immortal pages from the holocaust days … straight from the pens of Anne Frank.
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