We're All Flakes Now.

Friend/colleague/undercover North Korean agent/romantic prospect: 'You want to go out this Saturday to watch the new Mission Impossible movie?'

Me: No.

You have a better chance of seeing any plan through provided you do it yourself. That's the sad truth of things. Also, you can say yes to every plan you are asked to be a part of. Believe me, 11 out of 10 plans will fall through and your social calendar will clear itself automatically.

We aren't millennials. We aren't the Tinder generation. We aren't 90s kids. We aren't the always-on generation. We are just a bunch of flakes. Ok. Bye. 

Charles and Ray Eames Sum Up My Life.

Life is work is life is work is life.

And although that's not a healthy outlook. And yes, there's more to work than life, I think I like the sound of it. The spartan simplicity of the thought gives me comfort. Never mind the fact that I'd grow to loathe this line of thought eventually. 

Trying New Things...

So, yes, I can get wound up in these routines. Routines that often become ruts. Like you know, blogging every day. So, I'm gonna try freshen things up a little. I am using my phone's camera as often as I can again. I'm also trying to make new friends - not much of a headway there but for the obsessive workaholic shy moron that I am baby steps count. So when I take my first break in two years this Tuesday, I promise to try a different sort of photography project. Something to do with people and not just the place. Something that makes me come out of my shy guy bubble. Wish me luck, world, here I come. 

The World Could Do with More Inexplicable Sweetness.

Like a whole other Indians, the most reliable alarm clock I ever possessed were my parents. Parents use the lethal combination of screaming, kicking and cajoling to wake you up. After I reached college, I was left to my own devices (read alarm clocks with snooze buttons) and I wasn't really good at making it on time for our lectures. Especially the early 7 o'clock ones. I did the best I could but if I was reaching 10-15 minutes late, then it didn't count, did it now?

Around the time of our college festival, I was responsible for promotion and ideation. I mentioned to one of the teammates how getting to college on time was a big issue and how I had been kicked out of class that very morning.

There was this other girl in the team who heard this and volunteered to wake me up. I thought she was being nice but I didn't think she'd get up at 5:30 am and call. The next day, much to my surprise, she did. And then she continued doing that for the next 2 years. Whenever she was in a lecture and I needed a wake-up call, she used to pretend she needed to head to the wash room and call me from there.

I've no idea why she did it. Even my own batch mates weren't this nice to me. It's easy to think that she had a soft spot for me. But I don't think I did anything to win her affections. She, just was, sweet to me. Inexplicably so. And I was grateful for that. And I wish everyone in this world could somehow find a way to be that inexplicably nice to someone else. 

The Best Type of Mail to Receive on a Monday Morning.

You know how Mondays are at work. You open your e-mail and the floodgates open. Half the e-mails aren't relevant to you but you are CC'ed on them. The other half add to the workload you had left behind on Friday. And if it's near the end of the month, the guys responsible for billing hassle you over completing your timesheet. But sometimes things look up. You get an e-mail like this. A client you pitched for seals the deal with the agency. It's on your roster. Your work is slowly paying off. And you feel, Mondays don't deserve the bad rap they get.

 

Eating Alone Can Prompt You to Get Married.

'You're not as young as you think you are.'

That remark brought the grinding of my jaws to a halt. For the first time in my life did I find it difficult to chew on a tender Paneer piece. How did things get to this?

As usual, my parents are to blame. Not in the Freudian sense. They were out of town for a couple of days. My culinary skills won't win me praises and I don't have it in me to cook. Especially at 11 in the night. So, I found myself at the quintessential Indian restaurant. You know the types. The kind of place you can take your family to without feeling you've carved a big hole in your pocket. The kind of place where the food is bland but not boring. The kind of place where there's no service charge (so, you must tip) and even if they add VAT, you won't feel as if an extra person joined you for the meal.

As it is custom in most restaurants, they directed me to the most inhospitable spot. That's what happens to us lone customers. We get the worst seats. And things don't get any better. Order the same item as a large group at the same time and the large group will get served first. There will be a waiter hovering around them. Holler for the waiter and he'd simply nod an acknowledgement. As if between his nods, you'd find a way to address whatever issue you were having. You can't blame anyone for this. It's simple customer relationship management. Large groups bring in more money. So there's little sense in treating us small fish well.

I've grown accustomed to this ill-treatment. Sitting next to grumpy middle-aged men and having dinner doesn't feel strange. Most of these chumps are in the city on business or men whose wives are out of town. Yesterday, I found myself seated against a jovial middle-aged man. He was wolfing down a biryani. He acknowledged my presence with a smile. See, this is rare. Men who eat at around 11 in the night don't acknowledge each other. Least of all with a smile. A couple of middle-aged women were seating next to us and were ordering what can only be called a little pulmonary disorder inducing feast. So, there was little space for me keep my food. This man promptly moved his empty plates in a corner and let me have some room at the table. I thanked him sincerely. Saying to myself, 'What a nice, guy.'

As if reading my thoughts, he indulged me in a conversation. Explaining how he didn't like eating here. Not like this, at least. He added that his wife was out of town because her brother had a child. When I congratulated him on this, he blankly blinked at me. He ranted about long hours without his wife's lovingly cooked meals. He said he was happy to have her back home the next day.

I thought that would be it. I thought now there'd be some peace and quiet between me and biryani but he interrupted. Again. He asked me, 'So, where's your wife at?' This man had been nice to me. So against my better judgement, I indulged him, 'Um, I haven't found her yet.'

He was shocked to learn I wasn't married. I told him I was still too young. He then made an inquiry about my age and when I told him I was just 24 (24 years, 2 months to be precise). He then scientifically concluded that I wasn't that young. Which took me by surprise. See, all my life I've been young. Because, well, I've lived among people older than me. Everyone in class was usually a year older than me. My brother is 7 years older than me. I was the youngest guy on the team on all the 4 jobs I have had so far. I was the youngest guy to get through a prestigious fellowship. And now, I'm old. Not just that. I'm old enough to get married.

I recovered from this conversational shock. Not that it mattered. The conversation took another low. He said he was only a year older than me when he got married and so it made perfect sense for me to marry the next year. I nodded and told him, I'd rather get married  when I checked off some emotional, financial and other goals. I wasn't going to discuss with him how I wanted to marry someone I fell for. And hopefully wait till Jennifer Lawrence agreed that we were destined to be together. He wasn't the kind of guy you discussed the matters of the heart with.

I thought he'd shut up but he continued, 'You never really finish your goals. I still have to buy my home. You can't lead your life like that.' Which honestly was a sensible suggestion. You don't always meet the goals you set up for yourself. But I rescinded, 'They aren't all big goals. Like this right here - if I could cook properly and actually enjoy cooking, I'd never be here in the first place. I'd be at home eating a home-cooked meal. I just want to be self-sufficient before I get married. So that I don't get married because I want someone to do the things that I don't want to. Or won't learn to.'

He gave me a sage smile. I managed to choke on my paneer. Things were looking dark. He continued, 'What sort of goal is cooking? Better save. Save a lot. Your wedding will be expensive. It will eat into the money you have saved up for buying a home. And besides, why do you want to cook?'

I thought if I kept chewing my food in the way those wicked cowboys chew tobacco and stare down the crooks, he'd stop. Turns out my chewing isn't wicked. He added, 'And aren't you coming from office right now? At 11. Why would you want to cook this late? Best to have your wife do it all for you. I count on my wife to do all the ghar ka kaam and she counts on me to provide for her.'

I had it at that point. This man ruined paneer for me. Nothing and believe me nothing can ruin paneer for me but this man was the reigning world champion of ruining all things Paneer. I'm open to believing his wife's perfectly happy with their current 'situation'. I can give him the benefit of doubt of being a good provider. Of being a great husband even but he was rather sexist. My mother raised me while working nights as a nurse. My father cooked all the time. At times, better than her. Sorry for saying this in public, mom. So, yes, I was a little pissed. Also, this man was ruining my paneer.

I watched him glug down some falooda as he said this. In my heart, I had decided, this man ruined my paneer. And for the sake of paneer and all the women out there, I'm gonna ruin his dessert. I bought a spoonful of paneer near my mouth and said, 'I might experiment a little with my marriage. I will work from home and do all the ghar ka kaam. And I will make her do some of the providing too. You know, for kicks. Bada mazaa aayega.' 

I got onto chewing my paneer then. My alpha male style of chewing might have improved the second time around because the man promptly finished his falooda, smiled at me and left. My paneer started tasting better without the sexism in the air. That man was only around for some 7 odd minutes but I had to give him credit. Nowhere before in the history of mankind have two perfect strangers sat in a restaurant and discussed the subject of marriage this quickly. 

Questions You Should Ask at Every Job Interview.

After every interview, the interviewer as a formality will ask you if you have some questions. Most people just keep mum or discuss their CTC again. Both the choice are wrong. This is the time to show you've done your homework. This isn't the time to explain why you deserve the 70% hike you asked for. This is the time to prove you are worthy of that hike. Here are some questions you should ask. Some of them are provocative. Some of them can backfire. Some of them will get your foot in the door. As the man I call my best friend says, 'Better to be memorable than bland.'

What's the best part about working here?

If I happen to land in a new restaurant by accident. Which means I haven't Zomato-ed it and just need a quick bite, I go for a sandwich. I mean, even the worst places can't ruin a sandwich. If I am willing to experiment, I just ask the waiter, what's the chef's specialty and then go with that. So, if you are going to ask for a job, would you not ask your future boss what the company is really good at?

What's the worst part about working here?

(Sub this too, tell me the things you want change here, the challenges you are facing and how I can in any way help you out.)

Either you or your best friend or your brother are going to have an arranged marriage. Never mind the bull stat I threw at you my fellow job-seeking Indian. If you are going to see someone, you'd be keen on learning about their dark side. Same goes for your next prospective job. Get a lay of the land. Understand the challenges. Volunteer to help out even before you are on board. Heck, if you  find the new job has the same set of problems as the old one, then what's the point?


Who will I be reporting to?

You could meet anyone from an Executive Director to the CEO. They can take a shine to you but that doesn't mean you will work with them directly. Ask about the reporting structure. Request a meeting with the line manager if possible. See if you have  matching wavelengths. See if their work or ideas appeal to you. See if they can teach you things. See if you should just politely excuse yourself and beeline for the exit.


What's the team structure like?

I know of a person who spent a weekend with her prospective roommates before leasing a flat with them. The least you can do is do is ask about your future team. Do some background on LinkedIn if you have to. Know if the office is understaffed or if the team is full of under-qualified yuppies. Remember you will spend more time with your teammates than with your family. So better be careful.

What's the culture like? How will you guys help me grow?

Want to learn how to code? Ask if they will show you how. Want to work from home? Ask if it's allowed. Want to know if they pay overtime or don't mind if you walk in later? ASK. In the words of the great Thomas Cromwell, 'Don't ask, don't get.' Remember your job is more than way to make money. So ask them about learning opportunities, fringe benefits and also if you want to acquire certain skills, ask if they have a robust training program in place.

Ask about growth.

Okay, this is a biggie. But if you are this Type-A, throw a number at me and I will meet it then, let it show. Ask them about appraisal cycles. A good number of places only offer you one after 1.5 years. Ask if you meet your KPIs, will you be entitled to a promotion and appraisal and/or both? This shows you have the single-minded dedication to meet your goals and who doesn't mind having one of those on their team. Also, it makes you look like less of jerk for asking that 70% hike.

Last thing, admire and smile.

If money is the only reason you came to the interview, then you are robbing yourself of opportunities in the long run. If you really admire the company or the person who's interviewing you, tell them so. Be honest. Don't flatter but tell them you look up to them. If you can't get the job, you will get a mentor. Last thing, if you are going to ask such touch as nails question, don't forget to smile. A LOT. No one wants to have a Frankenstein on their team. Unless of course you are making a team for an evil plot in a Scooby Doo episode.

Seth Needs to Have a Word with Some of the People I Interact With.

When someone asks, "Do you have any case studies and rules of thumb from my industry about how someone in precisely the same circumstances did x and got y," it's pretty clear that they seek reassurance and a promise of certainty.

But all the good stuff comes from leaping. From doing the things that might not work.

By Mr. Godin. And as usual it brings me to say, truer words were never spoken. Now, if only everyone in the marcomm and advertising industry would pay heed to it. 

Don't Criticise. Celebrate Instead.

Criticism is futile. Maybe it's reading Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections which is decidedly anti-criticism. It even has one character who teaches criticism theory realize that you can't change the world by criticising it.

And while we are at it, the most read topic on my blog is still this piece where I destroyed Ghajini. And even got offered my first book job for it.

But I think I've risen about it. Even small or big pieces where I celebrate works of art get better hits than my criticism pieces.

But that's not to say criticism is unnecessary. It is. And we need it even more now to guide us when more and more pop culture is created every day. It's after all the critic's job to guide the masses. Except today a lot of pop culture is critic-proof. The next Avengers' movie will gross 500 million. The next GaGa album will be platinum. So a bad review won't stop a fan boy from paying his money and consuming inferior pop culture. A parent with two kids will watch a bad animated movie. That guy has no choice. But that doesn't mean the critic has no voice?

The critics need to channel their inner Roger Ebert and unabashedly love pop culture that needs loving. So yes, the critic should give a bad piece a bad review. But it's her job to show his readers that why an overlooked movie, the book by an unheard author or an indie artist is where his readers should put their money. That'll only happen when critics learn to do more than critique. They learn to drive conversations and action by celebrating the right kind of pop culture.

I Will Sleep When I Die.

Sleep's always been the enemy. The necessary evil. The precursor to the big sleep. After all sleeping is a lot like dying. Closed eyes? Check. Essential body functions not working? Sort of. Consciousness off? Yep.

I thought every time I slept, I wasted time. I died a little. And little by little geared up for the big sleep. So I made sleep the enemy. I'd lose sleep to do something productive. Heck,  I'll miss out on sleep but not on my leisure time.

Which frankly is a little silly. As a bio student with honours, I know the importance of sleep and the implications of missing out on it. But I never changed my night owlish ways.

So starting today, I call truce. I say to sleep, let's meet for some 8 hours a day. Realistically more than the usual five-ish. Let's not get hostile when we meet each other on afternoons.

Because sleep, my old friend, you aren't the enemy.  I am the enemy. If I have to do certain things, I'll find a way to make room for them. I'll find a way to tune out the noise.  Turn off the internet. The stuff that gets in the way of my sleep.

This is my first ever sleep resolution. I'll sleep on it tonight and soon let you know how I fair. Night.

PS: In the spirit of full disclosure, slept six-ish hours last night.

Why I'm Wary of Attending Weddings and Other Social Engagements.

No, really.

Things Don't Ever Come in the Way.

I know you are mad at me. And I feel you have every right to. I read your mail and I wanted to answer it but then things got in the way. I actually hate how half-assed that expression sounds. 'Things' and 'life' are the third-party software we all conveniently lay the blame upon. So, in all honesty, I got in the way of answering your e-mail. And I hope I don't do such a stupid thing again. 

Tackling Writer's Block as a Copywriter.

The fact is it's a good thing. It's terrible to have a writer's block but as a copywriter you stand to gain more from it.

A block basically means you are no longer scratching the surface. You know the usual way of doing something but you want to try something new now.

So how do you do it? You go at it. Hammers and tongs. Aim at putting a minimum number of ideas on the board. Don't think about the quality. Get the engine started. Put 10 on board. When you reach your number, you'd have either found the answer or at least got the confidence to know that in a few more steps you'd find a great idea.

Trust me the moment you pick mileage, you'll be fine. You'll surprise yourself. If indeed you do try it and still can't find a solution, then go take a walk or have a coffee. Better still, have a walk over coffee. Talk to your seniors. Talk to someone who has nothing to do with advertising. Read an article on The Verge. Or the New Yorker. Reread the brief again. Look at what the brand did before. Look at what the competition is doing. Look at the clock and call it a day. Then come in early tomorrow and show the courage to go through the entire cycle again till you find something that reinvents the wheel.

Seth Shows You What's What Again.

Short. Straight-to-the-point. And so brutally accurate. Time to become a better boss.

The world's worst boss

That would be you.

Even if you're not self-employed, your boss is you. You manage your career, your day, your responses. You manage how you sell your services and your education and the way you talk to yourself.

Odds are, you're doing it poorly.

If you had a manager that talked to you the way you talked to you, you'd quit. If you had a boss that wasted as much of your time as you do, they'd fire her. If an organization developed its employees as poorly as you are developing yourself, it would soon go under.

I'm amazed at how often people choose to fail when they go out on their own or when they end up in one of those rare jobs that encourages one to set an agenda and manage themselves. Faced with the freedom to excel, they falter and hesitate and stall and ultimately punt.

We are surprised when someone self-directed arrives on the scene. Someone who figures out a way to work from home and then turns that into a two-year journey, laptop in hand, as they explore the world while doing their job. We are shocked that someone uses evenings and weekends to get a second education or start a useful new side business. And we're envious when we encounter someone who has managed to bootstrap themselves into happiness, as if that's rare or even uncalled for.

There are few good books on being a good manager. Fewer still on managing yourself. It's hard to think of a more essential thing to learn.

The Future Will Be Made in China.

A good number of Indians want to move to America. As much as a cliche it sounds, a fair number of South Indians want to move to the gulf. I, on the other hand, want to move to China. And no, I don't even like Chinese food. It's almost surprising when people hear me say that and think it's because of the food. The reason for it can be easily quantified by this deck from McKinsey on the four disruptive forces of the future.

No Ordinary Disruption: The four forces breaking all the trends from McKinsey & Company

I work at the intersection of digital media and advertising. China is big on digital. Really big. The kind of brand integration allowed by Baidu (their version of Google) and WeChat is beyond believable. Brands can set up stores and chat rooms on WeChat. Hey, WhatsApp, take a hike. I mean, not the app. Geez. And as you can see above, the future looks great for the world. Economically, at least. And much of it would be fuelled by China. Note to self - Must learn Mandarin using Duolingo.

George Clooney and Vera Farmiga Show You the Right Way To Break Up with Someone.

Breakups. They happen to us all. The sad part is no matter how significant or meaningful the relationship was, the way people break up with each other is usually ugly. Words are tossed around without any thought. Unfortunately, those who get their hearts broken spend countless days deciphering those same words. Trying to find greater meaning in 'It's not you, it's me'. 

And this is exactly why I love this breakup scene from Up in the Air. The director Jason Reitman shows two ‘adults’ in a romantic situation and how it comes to a close in an ‘adult’ manner. 

Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) is a cold-blooded bastard. He joyfully fires people for a living and with recession looming in the background, his business is booming. He flies a lot and ends up meeting Alex Goran (Vera Farminga). She is just like him. She tells him to think of herself as a ‘female version’ of him. Notice how the director gives her a traditionally ‘male’ name. Alex is not your traditional enabler female archetype.

At the end of the movie, Ryan realizes that his life is empty and meaningless. So he rushes to meet Alex. To declare his love for her. To his surprise, he finds Alex is married. With kids. And is even seemingly happy. He is crushed. So when she finally calls him back, you expect an apology. But this is a Jason Reitman movie. What you see instead is an explanation.

We see how Alex is indeed Ryan’s counterpart. She parrots an explanation Ryan could have given someone a few weeks back. As she puts, ‘I thought we signed up for the same thing... I thought our relationship was perfectly clear. You are an escape. You're a break from our normal lives. You're a parenthesis.’

Cold but clear. Heartless without meaning harm. Besides, I’m sure Ryan would be broken by the ‘parenthesis’ remark but at least she gave him a meaningful answer. It’s the kind of honest breakup we all should aspire to.

What Grammar Nazis Miss Out On.

So, I live in India. You'll find that some of us hold a fluency in English that can only be matched by native English speakers. Yet some others butcher the Queen's language without a second thought. Now, you'd have to be in Mars to realise that English is the de facto lingua franca of the world and India. It is our comfort with English that gives us an edge over the Chinese. So much so that being good with English somehow determines your professional graph here.

Now, on face value there's nothing wrong with that. Being good at a language means being good with words. And at the end of the day, how you express yourself will influence your odds at finding success. The problem is this somehow stacks the odds against a whole lot of Indians. A good number of Indians get educated in their regional languages. Mother tongues, as they are called. They only learn English much later and they get comfortable using it much later in life. This puts a lot of Indians on the back foot professionally. As if things weren't bad enough, there's a fresh crop of problems for those trying to improve their English. Enter the cult of Grammar Nazis.

Now most Grammar Nazis as you are aware are a passive aggressive lot. They have a decent grasp of grammar. They can even pronounce Sauvignon properly. And since they possess these two skills, they make it a point to belittle anyone who flubs while speaking. They actually derive pleasure from it. Looking down upon someone who doesn't have the same amount of knowledge as you is a time-honoured tradition. Yet here it takes a different colour.

 Being a Grammar Nazi in India isn't the same as having an affectation. It's straight-up bullying. It's denying a person the right to express themselves and to flub while doing so and hence, improve in the long run. I've seen it in my own college, at work and even while travelling in the train. People asked to pronounce things right. People being told to use the right verbs. To not forget the gerunds. And it makes my blood boil. Unless you work at the New York Times, which most Grammar Nazis don't by the way, your correction of another's command of language is pointless. It's only stalling their progress and denying them their chances by destroying their confidence. So go on, judge people. For the quality of their ideas and thinking. Not the quality of speaking skills.

PS:

What's surprising is this problem has been around since the Roman era. Check out this excerpt from Emperor Marcus Aurelius' book called Meditations. Here he reveals how he learnt from a literary critic to focus on a person's words, not his pronunciations.

THE LITERARY CRITIC ALEXANDER

Not to be constantly correcting people, and in particular not to jump on them whenever they make an error of usage or a grammatical mistake or mispronounce something, but just answer their question or add another example, or debate the issue itself (not their phrasing), or make some other contribution to the discussion—and insert the right expression, unobtrusively.

Why You Should Really Listen to the Quiet Ones.

I work in marketing and communications. You know that by now. Which means I'm basically 24/7 surrounded by individuals who love the sound of their own voice. Individuals who mistake the sheer volume at which they share opinions for the value of their opinions. The sad part being such bombastic, overtly confident souls do get heard. Both clients and management regard their confidence. The problem being more than often that the most confident people in a room are indeed the least knowledgable ones. I'm not making this up. There's research to back it up. People who study a topic in-depth feel there's so much they still don't know. This, in turn, stifles their confidence and their speech. So the loud mouths step in.They interrupt those gentle unsure souls who whisper words of wisdom.

So, do this the next time you are in a meeting. See that shy colleague making doodles, looking up at the bombastic project manager whenever he sets up an unrealistic goal? Bring the meeting to a halt. A small break, if you will. Take your shy colleague in confidence, ask what they think. When they open up, reveal their point to the entire team. Give them a channel to amplify their voice. Give them a chance to shut that loudmouth up. Rescue your team from the man whose inflated sense self clouds his objectivity.

You Know You Are In Deep Shit When...

You spend the day with someone and you head home but you can still smell them on you. Not their perfume. Not the hint of their makeup or body lotion. I'm talking about their scent. And you don't seem to mind it much. You crave it. In fact, knowing you as well as I do, you have a sheepish grin on your face. In about two seconds, you will do the math and try to figure out when you will see them next. Or in this case, smell them.

And What Did You Do With the Internet?

I'm reading Bill Bryson's Notes from a Small Island. It's about his travels through England and is packed with his inimitably sweet yet silly prose. Bryson with his unusually keen eye chances upon the Ashington Group in the book. It was a painting club started by a bunch of impoverished miners. They didn't have any formal training in painting yet they made a name for themselves in the 40s British art scene. What's remarkable about these men is not the fact that they had humble beginnings but what overcame to learn to paint.

This isn't just a painting. This is the painter showing you what his day job is like.

These miners put in what 16 hours every day under subhuman conditions. Still gonna complaint about that all-nighter you pulled in your AC office? Not to mention the fact that the work environment wasn't exactly safe. Profits took precedence over safety. Accidents were a normal occurence. Yet despite going through this 'average' workday, these miners put on hats and suits (for some reason it's necessary to be formally dressed to learn how to paint) and then found enough energy to paint. They were happy to find an outlet that let them learn something new and get a chance to build a skill.

Now, fast forward to 70 odd years. In comes internet. You have the world at your fingertips. That line is so true  that it's become trite with overuse. But what did you do with the internet? Watched cat videos? Went through Buzzfeed? Mashable, I can respect but Buzzfeed, bro?

Internet's pure potential goes to waste till you put it to use. And with that, I hope, I learn to stop killing time on the internet. Instead of going through IMDB's quotes section, I hope I finally find the drive and the time to learn something new online.