Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Intel's Intelligent Infomercial
There are a plethora of advertisments flying in the air,propelled by the idiotbox nowadays.While most of the ads are irrelevant and go astray in the process of building a brand value for its Lord,some swaths of ads find a place in the heart.
One such ad nowadays on the air and which is creating much buzz is the Intel's Sponsors of tomorrow Ad.
Driven by the String of words-"Your Superstars are a little different from our superstar",the ad ridicules the traditional thinking that one's superstar can only belong to the echelons of cricketers and actors.It plays on the fact that every soul has a distinct being as his inspiration,whom he dreams about to meet and beseech for an autograph.
The Ad shows Mr.Ajay Bhatt,Co-founder of USB walking with an inventor's elan inside a room of some technicians for a cup of coffee.The Intel technicians in the room go frenzy at the sight,the girls going mad about him,men ask for his autograph and he collects much reverence.The ad in its own way praises the talent of technicians that work day and night and act as the sponsors of tomorrow.
The Success of the ad is because of its capability to connect with the viewers.In a benign way,the ad shoots many stars.It creates an impression that Intel is a tech company where each work for technology of progress and they admire people with high intelligence.And,ofcourse it creates a brand value for the semiconductor bigboy-INTEL.
If every ad is made like this one,so that it resonates with the heart and brain,than definately,there will be no problem in viewing the ad and the corporate world will not curse that inspite of spending millions on ads,their product is not clear in the mind of the people.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Life on Road
Road has its own life.There are its own rules and its own followings.Being a hardcore bike enthusiast and an automobile lover,I understand the language of driving.Let me share with you some of its gospels.
CAUTION:You will be able to embrace the writing only if you are a bike enthusiast and love driving out
1)A dude loves to overtake.It is against his pride to fall behind another dude.He discovers ultimate pleasure in it.What am I doing here?I would have been against Schumacher.I would have given tough competition to him !
2)A Dude feels insulted when someone overtakes him.It automatically gives him the title of a loser.Being sacrileged,then he tries his every bit and byte to barge past the overtaker.If he is unsuccessful,then well and good.I was just behind.If that moron had not turned,I might have taught him a driving lesson !
3)But If somehow,he is successful,then the whistle of a war gets blown.Both blow horn in an attempt to remove the corpses from their flight.While one crosses ahead from the right,the other pops out from the Left.This continues until they have to
change their courses.The Winner is decided by the one who crosses the diversion first.Ha,The Stupid was competiting with me.Now He Understood who am I.While the other that felt behind-Ha,He changed his path because it was clear that I am better !
4)If a third dude sees this championship,He never gets involved,instead chuckles and calls the thing petty.Even if he was involved in such a motocross yesterday !
4)When a group of dudes go somewhere together on their bikes,they orchestrates their own MotoGP.Each find their bike to be Hayabusa.The One who is not interested and doesnot want to take risk,he is questioned-Haven't you got the balls or what?
5)If a dude crashes or falls off from his bike,then he will never accept that it was his fault.Either the road was rough,or the lorrywalla was the culprit.He insists that he did no wrong and the other man was a fucker.If on the other side,he finds
the person to be a Girl,Woman or an Old Man,then his convincing power increases multifolds.
6)If you see any automobile going slow at a snail's speed,then it is tacit that the driver is of feminist origin.Her head would be Clinched straight.She would be so tensed as if she is Rani Laxmibai going to the britishers for a war,on a car.
7)Never do the mistake of blowing horn to a female.She simply redefines the meaning of a horn and slows down further.By doing this,she fixes a lane for herself,turns neither left nor right.And you are compelled to search for another lane.
8)If somehow,any gal gets a chance to have her hands on a bike,She feels as if she is Queen Elizabeth.She rides it in her own tashan and then crashes in the middle of the road.
9)While the girly crash can occur due to billion reasons,a guy crashes because he is busy in ostentation or his eyelids astray on the surroundings ranging from stray dogs,shops,buildings to gals,latter proving a majority.
10)While Stumbling creates audiences,But when a gal stumbles,the spectators are so large that a successful advertisement of Dettol or pain relievers could be done till someone comes,help her pick her scooter and she gets going.
11)Never be behind a Bus.It saturates your eyes with a thousand specks and forces you to accept its supremacy.Moreover,it drives as if the road is build specifically for the bus and your all requests by horns goes on the deaf ears.
CAUTION:You will be able to embrace the writing only if you are a bike enthusiast and love driving out
1)A dude loves to overtake.It is against his pride to fall behind another dude.He discovers ultimate pleasure in it.What am I doing here?I would have been against Schumacher.I would have given tough competition to him !
2)A Dude feels insulted when someone overtakes him.It automatically gives him the title of a loser.Being sacrileged,then he tries his every bit and byte to barge past the overtaker.If he is unsuccessful,then well and good.I was just behind.If that moron had not turned,I might have taught him a driving lesson !
3)But If somehow,he is successful,then the whistle of a war gets blown.Both blow horn in an attempt to remove the corpses from their flight.While one crosses ahead from the right,the other pops out from the Left.This continues until they have to
change their courses.The Winner is decided by the one who crosses the diversion first.Ha,The Stupid was competiting with me.Now He Understood who am I.While the other that felt behind-Ha,He changed his path because it was clear that I am better !
4)If a third dude sees this championship,He never gets involved,instead chuckles and calls the thing petty.Even if he was involved in such a motocross yesterday !
4)When a group of dudes go somewhere together on their bikes,they orchestrates their own MotoGP.Each find their bike to be Hayabusa.The One who is not interested and doesnot want to take risk,he is questioned-Haven't you got the balls or what?
5)If a dude crashes or falls off from his bike,then he will never accept that it was his fault.Either the road was rough,or the lorrywalla was the culprit.He insists that he did no wrong and the other man was a fucker.If on the other side,he finds
the person to be a Girl,Woman or an Old Man,then his convincing power increases multifolds.
6)If you see any automobile going slow at a snail's speed,then it is tacit that the driver is of feminist origin.Her head would be Clinched straight.She would be so tensed as if she is Rani Laxmibai going to the britishers for a war,on a car.
7)Never do the mistake of blowing horn to a female.She simply redefines the meaning of a horn and slows down further.By doing this,she fixes a lane for herself,turns neither left nor right.And you are compelled to search for another lane.
8)If somehow,any gal gets a chance to have her hands on a bike,She feels as if she is Queen Elizabeth.She rides it in her own tashan and then crashes in the middle of the road.
9)While the girly crash can occur due to billion reasons,a guy crashes because he is busy in ostentation or his eyelids astray on the surroundings ranging from stray dogs,shops,buildings to gals,latter proving a majority.
10)While Stumbling creates audiences,But when a gal stumbles,the spectators are so large that a successful advertisement of Dettol or pain relievers could be done till someone comes,help her pick her scooter and she gets going.
11)Never be behind a Bus.It saturates your eyes with a thousand specks and forces you to accept its supremacy.Moreover,it drives as if the road is build specifically for the bus and your all requests by horns goes on the deaf ears.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
When I saw her last time...
I was never so happy and electric before,
When we rambled on the lovers shore
She sweared to love me ever
And told would leave you never;
We rollicked across the river
And discovered the lovely decipher
I was thinking of the bliss wall
When she gave that tearing call !
Now I was ripped apart in woe
My Heart was my dear foe,
The World and I were on different side
Yet controlled myself against fatal suicide.
She backtracked after a year's blues
Went Astray,she said with her foot glued
She recalled for the past rejoice at dine,
And yearned for the beautiful love of mine.
I gave her a fine smile,
And told my eyes to see her last time !
When we rambled on the lovers shore
She sweared to love me ever
And told would leave you never;
We rollicked across the river
And discovered the lovely decipher
I was thinking of the bliss wall
When she gave that tearing call !
Now I was ripped apart in woe
My Heart was my dear foe,
The World and I were on different side
Yet controlled myself against fatal suicide.
She backtracked after a year's blues
Went Astray,she said with her foot glued
She recalled for the past rejoice at dine,
And yearned for the beautiful love of mine.
I gave her a fine smile,
And told my eyes to see her last time !
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
A Sin to seek Justice
Happy and Gay,When the results made way,
I decided to join the Army's cavalcade,
Cause I had the debt of my soil
Within my coil,to come to my mother's aid.
The Training high I reached,and
Amalgamated with souls from varied beach
Blended with beings that had different creed.
For we have the motif one and no other freak.
We fighted the sun,toiled by the moon,
And Played with blood in thunderous noon,
We savoured the mud and stuffed skin with wounds
For we had the motif one,we marched with no less sound.
Then came the day,I am prepared,we could say
We Pledged to die by our country side
and jab the one with a stanley knife
Who gave a hint to have a foul enemy eye.
I got the first itinerary to the precipice of north
To fence my motherland against the envied abroad.
I was rambling in my own thoughts under the naked sky,when
Outside People go away,someone decried.
The Sound came from a radio imitating a leader's voice
Who was wishing to banish other state's minds
He was thrashing,killing and plucking their skins,and
Kicking them from their own country's another corner.
He was dividing you Mother,by your children,forgeting
Can an ocean be divided on the basis of its waters?
Could you tell the sky to realign its stars by their light?
I was bleeding,mother,with you by seeing my kin's plight.
I Killed them mother,Yes,I killed them mother
I wished to gift knife to his heart,not to his neck
Just like he did to my countrymen by his attack.
I did something so that he bleeds like you and me,
I killed his children in the lee
And me....
I decided to join the Army's cavalcade,
Cause I had the debt of my soil
Within my coil,to come to my mother's aid.
The Training high I reached,and
Amalgamated with souls from varied beach
Blended with beings that had different creed.
For we have the motif one and no other freak.
We fighted the sun,toiled by the moon,
And Played with blood in thunderous noon,
We savoured the mud and stuffed skin with wounds
For we had the motif one,we marched with no less sound.
Then came the day,I am prepared,we could say
We Pledged to die by our country side
and jab the one with a stanley knife
Who gave a hint to have a foul enemy eye.
I got the first itinerary to the precipice of north
To fence my motherland against the envied abroad.
I was rambling in my own thoughts under the naked sky,when
Outside People go away,someone decried.
The Sound came from a radio imitating a leader's voice
Who was wishing to banish other state's minds
He was thrashing,killing and plucking their skins,and
Kicking them from their own country's another corner.
He was dividing you Mother,by your children,forgeting
Can an ocean be divided on the basis of its waters?
Could you tell the sky to realign its stars by their light?
I was bleeding,mother,with you by seeing my kin's plight.
I Killed them mother,Yes,I killed them mother
I wished to gift knife to his heart,not to his neck
Just like he did to my countrymen by his attack.
I did something so that he bleeds like you and me,
I killed his children in the lee
And me....
Monday, June 1, 2009
The Divine Drops
Well,Persuing B.Tech from a distant college,Train Journey,Summer and Sleeper Class.When these deadly conditions unite,make a forecasting that your journey is going to be memorable,in a bitter sense.Engineering Courses are most unpredictable.Clouds of Tutorials,Extra Class,Survey,Camps,Training Programs always make the sky of Schedule gray.
As we have a survey camp course this summer,the final departure date was uncertain and as a result,the D-day of reserving a scarce seat in the train to home went on postponing.After much discussion with the professors,A final survey date was decided.But due to loss of time,Railways has got other commuters for its so called Air Conditioned Compartment and I had to satisfy myself with a Sleeper seat.I had to travel a long journey from Jalandhar to Ahmedabad.
A Contagion of Mirth was gripped in me,for I was going home.But this happiness was ephemeral. On the day of Journey Sun,much against my wishes,decided to be grateful.Soon I was sweat bucketing and my skin continued to drain as if the dams of my sweat glands have collapsed.I went straight to the upper seat with a book but soon fell asleep.Around 6 :00 in the evening,I felt noises and foot sounds,which is a sign that train has halted to a station.The Station was Bhatinda(remember Jab We Met?).I found that I had discharged much of sweat and hence I was yearning for a water pool.I rummaged and snached the water bottle,clinched its neck to the mouth and Ahh! Expectorated ! The Water was boiling like hell.Thanks Goodness,the train was still static.Relegated to the Platform,Searched for the blue eyed water boy but nowhere he was found(Absent ! I understood why professors disgrunt when we don't go to class).I trotted to the Water basins painted bold with-"Cold Water".But no success again(The Govt. Is looting us in the name of basic amenities).I was devastated.I was dying for cold water.
Water Water Everywhere,Not a single drop to drink.
Then,A Miracle happened.The Corustrating Angels of God landed on Earth.Men in White.Men in Blue.Men with Saffron Band.Men with wide head.Men with a Jar of Cool Water.Men doing Social Work.
Actually,During my two years stay in Punjab,I have cursed Punjabis for their flaunting nature and careless ideosyncrasies.But this was the first thing good I found in Punjab.Punjab has a tradition of gifting thirsty with cool water.The Men were not sage,nor workers.They belonged to working class echelons that did the apex social work of providing water to the thirsty travellers.One of them,saw me frustrated for water,and aked-Do you need Cold Water?
I nodded at once and he poured in.And thus I got another life with those DIVINE DROPS.
BJP,teach yourself from these Punjabis.Building a temple will not do any good.A Temple Construction is not a common man is looking forward too.He wishes another religion called Social Religion.
I resurrected myself with those eleemosynary drops.Now I see those Men with reverence.
As we have a survey camp course this summer,the final departure date was uncertain and as a result,the D-day of reserving a scarce seat in the train to home went on postponing.After much discussion with the professors,A final survey date was decided.But due to loss of time,Railways has got other commuters for its so called Air Conditioned Compartment and I had to satisfy myself with a Sleeper seat.I had to travel a long journey from Jalandhar to Ahmedabad.
A Contagion of Mirth was gripped in me,for I was going home.But this happiness was ephemeral. On the day of Journey Sun,much against my wishes,decided to be grateful.Soon I was sweat bucketing and my skin continued to drain as if the dams of my sweat glands have collapsed.I went straight to the upper seat with a book but soon fell asleep.Around 6 :00 in the evening,I felt noises and foot sounds,which is a sign that train has halted to a station.The Station was Bhatinda(remember Jab We Met?).I found that I had discharged much of sweat and hence I was yearning for a water pool.I rummaged and snached the water bottle,clinched its neck to the mouth and Ahh! Expectorated ! The Water was boiling like hell.Thanks Goodness,the train was still static.Relegated to the Platform,Searched for the blue eyed water boy but nowhere he was found(Absent ! I understood why professors disgrunt when we don't go to class).I trotted to the Water basins painted bold with-"Cold Water".But no success again(The Govt. Is looting us in the name of basic amenities).I was devastated.I was dying for cold water.
Water Water Everywhere,Not a single drop to drink.
Then,A Miracle happened.The Corustrating Angels of God landed on Earth.Men in White.Men in Blue.Men with Saffron Band.Men with wide head.Men with a Jar of Cool Water.Men doing Social Work.
Actually,During my two years stay in Punjab,I have cursed Punjabis for their flaunting nature and careless ideosyncrasies.But this was the first thing good I found in Punjab.Punjab has a tradition of gifting thirsty with cool water.The Men were not sage,nor workers.They belonged to working class echelons that did the apex social work of providing water to the thirsty travellers.One of them,saw me frustrated for water,and aked-Do you need Cold Water?
I nodded at once and he poured in.And thus I got another life with those DIVINE DROPS.
BJP,teach yourself from these Punjabis.Building a temple will not do any good.A Temple Construction is not a common man is looking forward too.He wishes another religion called Social Religion.
I resurrected myself with those eleemosynary drops.Now I see those Men with reverence.
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