700 – That’s the number of post I will be reaching soon. It took me more than 4 and half year of existence to reach here. Its been a journey, a journey to my past, present and future. Many people have never met me but had been a part of the journey. On the occasion of 700th post, I continue with the tradition of Full2 Faltu, when I invite guest writers to write. The guest posts are for 15 writers and it will continue till 699.
These writers have chosen to write to be a part of charity. I hope you like what they write. They would love your comments.
Presenting the next in the series. The earlier being
- Texture Lover
- Blue Hues
- Broken Heart
- Agasti Kale
- Agasti Kale 2
Sabu is a management teacher, writer, dubbing artist and a father of a 6 year old. He sure juggles a lot of things and has two blogs. One about a fictional Business school and one about ads. His daughter takes from him. Read on!
Gowri is just 6, my daughter and yet she has grown up to the world of ads and advertising. No shocks for me because next to her dads funny face and her moms tolerance of the same, the most seen thing for her was ads and ads only. When she cried (for no reason as most kids do) I showed her ads in my PC and she became contented, quite a satisfied baby. She beamed and giggled at the characters, their drama and expressions she owned and imitated with precision.
My best friend (who happens to be of communist thinking) accused me always of compulsorily growing her up as a consumerist neo gen kid with no real world dilemma. For me but, it began as a tool to engage my nagging child, later on what I admit got graduated into an easy tool to entertain her. The allegation of making a capitalist doll out of her, made us (me and my wife) think of other kinds of amusements to keep her glad but alas, in vain. My singing was not that engaging to her, proven by the fact that she cried even more wildly and underlining my wife’s theory that ‘you are a good singer only for your ears’. Her tricks of entertainment didn’t work either but I never ventured or dared to prove any theory for want of harmony in family life.
At 6 this girl analyses ads more capably than her Dad ever did, and finds fault in most of them. Of course she does not classify them as BEKAR and/or the BEST but she stops almost close to it. And she does a better job I swear, in truly seeing the best as the best and the bekar as bekar. She has no axes to grind and no one to please or no point to attest. She is frank and open in her smiles, her frown and her admiration accordingly when and where an ad deserves it. The Indian consumer has arrived?
She was taken to school for admission a couple of years back. The schools of these days are in spite all the court orders funny places to be. If you have had been in one for a kid’s admission process you will know what I mean. They have panel of interviewers ( you heard it right.. a three or more in numbers panel) whose only obvious intention is to petrify the kid and haul out the parent does a wonderful job in sending you back with frustration, anger, apathy and seamless jealousy at the rich parents and their lucky kids. Mad rush for an LKG seat made me ponder as to how easy is it in India to get a seat in a B school. It really is if you see it relatively. At least the selection process has some reason and rationale…..
Her turn came and she walked in wonderfully valiant and unperturbed, neither by the panel inside and their spiteful looks nor by the frenzy outside and the din that they created.
Sit down.. Said the large madam who was over weight, over aged, over made up and looked over suspicious…
Thank you … said the little one making us proud.
They signaled us to sit as well in a sofa a bit away from the interview table.
I sat with ease of having got to see this drama where my daughter was the heroine (or villain?) and my wife with her heart pounding as if this was a life or death issue for the little one….
What is your name? The old man asked….
He is the chairman of the trust… my wife murmured…. How I hope she answered it right…
Gowri Raajya Laxmi .. the little one replied and my wife released a loud sigh…
What is your father’s name? Pat came the next question
She didn’t reply… I stared at my wife as if it was her mistake…( the pun is not intended )
Heart thumping went up…
It is ok….. said the other man in the panel….
It is not ok…. You 200 year old toilet brush… I muttered to myself… I had taught her and made her repeat it a hundred times and yet… my girl…
What is your mother’s name? asked one….
She didn’t even think for a second before yelling…Laxmy Sabu…..
What is your mother? Asked the Madam in a baritone that would put even the Big B to shame….
Here, she got confused… WHAT…? What is what….
House wife.. house wife… my wife garbled in a pinnacle of nervousness….
Housefly… said Gowri and smirked….
WHAT?… The panel shrieked in unison…..
The girl didn’t answer, and perhaps the panel got the perplexity that bewildered the poor little thing….
Whom do you like the most?… came the next question…
I smiled… it’s me … its got to be me.. After all I was the one who called her all the pet names in the world… treated her like and angel vis a vis her mom who tried to teach her discipline at the age of 4.
The PUG.. She said with a loud voice and a large smile….
WHAT? Shouted the Large madam…
The pug… she repeated and looked at the panel, straight into their old eyes, with an expression that made them feel ashamed and wriggle in discomfort…
You haven’t seen the pug?… happy to help ?… she became eloquent and waited for an answer…
Well me… yeah but…. The panel looked like a shattered army….
You know Bingo? She asked them
Bingo… my lord… yelled my wife as she pinched and punched my thighs angrily, hinting that I was guilty for this manifestation of spoilt behaviour …
Gowri looked sad at the end of the interview, not that the panel was not wise enough to select her but that they golden oldies didn’t know bingo… not even the pug… she was happy to help them but they weren’t ready to take it…they weren’t mature enough…
She watches more ads today and is in a better school than the one which rejected her for being what she was. One day I guess she will become an Ad professional, like her Dad who left the profession half way to become an academic.