3.3 Sarla
People think that being a celebrity columnist is all about attending parties and socializing. That's probably the way it is for most columnists, I agree. But for me, it's about stating a point of view that hasn't been expressed before. Making people aware of a new aspect of an important social issue. That's why I write the columns.
I was supposed to be reading the proofs of my new book, but I had to finish my weekly column first. I know the paper it appears in is a Page 3 rag, but it also happens to be the largest circulated rag in the city, and if I could subvert it to present the other side of the story, well, why not? At least that's what I told myself each week when my deadline loomed near and I wondered why I'd ever agreed to work to a deadline for a column in a newspaper which spent more column inches covering parties and fashion than real news.
When Viveka knocked at my door that afternoon, I was still trying to find the Pepsi ad that had sparked off the idea in the first place. You probably know the one I mean: the one in which Shah Rukh Khan takes a sly dig at a Hrithik Roshan lookalike. There was a rumor that Hrithik Roshan was starring in a Coke ad featuring a grossly overweight SRK lookalike, as a rejoinder to the Pepsi ad. I didn't know whether or not that was true, but the issue raised some interesting questions about celebrity models and advertising ethics and it was just the right kind of balance between the 'in the news, in your face' topics that BT liked to cover and which gave me some scope to take the Page 3 types down a peg or two.
In fact, Viveka peeped in just when I'd found the right tape and was fast-forwarding on cue, searching for the ad. I never resented the demands of my kids on my time; it wasn't because I thought I was a 'mother first, last and always' but because my kids were also my best friends.
She said she had a problem opening a file attachment on her comp and wondered if I could help out. I smiled at her. The only thing that interests me about computers is the fact that they make it a lot easier to write and revise text. As far as I'm concerned, they're just over-sized word processors.
"Try Mikey's comp," I suggested. "Your father said he keeps upgrading it so much that it's probably equivalent to some sort of a supercomputer by now. I'm sure his PC would be able to open your problem file." From what she'd described about her problem, it sounded like an upgrade problem, I told her, and Mikey's computer would definitely have the upgrade--or if it didn't, then nobody else's would.
She said that was an excellent idea and left. I forgot about her instantly. By then, my deadline was looming. I'd already got a polite but anxious email from the sub who coordinated the page, asking if I could send it in a bit early because they had a whole lot of pictures of some beer baron's new yacht to lay out and needed to figure out how to fit my column on the same page.
I winced when I read that email: rubbing shoulders with a beer baron's new yacht (and several new girlfriends, I'm sure) was not my idea of journalistic integrity, not even on newsprint, but I reminded myself of the lakhs of readers who would read my "brilliantly presented arguments" and maybe think for a few seconds before buying their next heavily sugared MNC cola drink.
(The quote is from Vir, who made my day when he praised a column I'd written last month on the pros and cons of American movies doing so well in India. Every once in a while, he says something like that which makes me think it wasn't such a bad idea marrying him.)
After viewing the Pepsi commercial a couple of times, my thoughts fell into place. I only had to touch the keyboard, and my thoughts flowed from my mind down to my fingers and appeared as words on the PC screen.
About an hour later, the column was written, revised and re-revised. I logged on to e-mail it, and downloaded my new mail.
There were several new e-mails from my publishers, editors, friends in India and abroad, and of course, the junk mail--"Have Viagra delivered directly to your mailbox!"--that always irritates me hugely. Besides the fact that penile enlargements are not high on my list of priorities!
When I first saw Mikey's e-mail, I almost mistook it for spam--that's the correct term for electronic junk mail I'm told. Then I saw his name in the Sender column and relaxed. I clicked on the email heading, thinking it was so like Mikey to email me instead of talking.
This is the mail that opened up.
To: sarlavats@rediffmail.com
From: mikeyvats@rediffmail.com
Subject: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: WARNING: DO NOT VISIT THIS SITE
Date: 29 Jul 00 11:18:05 CDT
>>>> This is the website you've been looking for:
>>>> http://vvv.vvv.net
I was supposed to be reading the proofs of my new book, but I had to finish my weekly column first. I know the paper it appears in is a Page 3 rag, but it also happens to be the largest circulated rag in the city, and if I could subvert it to present the other side of the story, well, why not? At least that's what I told myself each week when my deadline loomed near and I wondered why I'd ever agreed to work to a deadline for a column in a newspaper which spent more column inches covering parties and fashion than real news.
When Viveka knocked at my door that afternoon, I was still trying to find the Pepsi ad that had sparked off the idea in the first place. You probably know the one I mean: the one in which Shah Rukh Khan takes a sly dig at a Hrithik Roshan lookalike. There was a rumor that Hrithik Roshan was starring in a Coke ad featuring a grossly overweight SRK lookalike, as a rejoinder to the Pepsi ad. I didn't know whether or not that was true, but the issue raised some interesting questions about celebrity models and advertising ethics and it was just the right kind of balance between the 'in the news, in your face' topics that BT liked to cover and which gave me some scope to take the Page 3 types down a peg or two.
In fact, Viveka peeped in just when I'd found the right tape and was fast-forwarding on cue, searching for the ad. I never resented the demands of my kids on my time; it wasn't because I thought I was a 'mother first, last and always' but because my kids were also my best friends.
She said she had a problem opening a file attachment on her comp and wondered if I could help out. I smiled at her. The only thing that interests me about computers is the fact that they make it a lot easier to write and revise text. As far as I'm concerned, they're just over-sized word processors.
"Try Mikey's comp," I suggested. "Your father said he keeps upgrading it so much that it's probably equivalent to some sort of a supercomputer by now. I'm sure his PC would be able to open your problem file." From what she'd described about her problem, it sounded like an upgrade problem, I told her, and Mikey's computer would definitely have the upgrade--or if it didn't, then nobody else's would.
She said that was an excellent idea and left. I forgot about her instantly. By then, my deadline was looming. I'd already got a polite but anxious email from the sub who coordinated the page, asking if I could send it in a bit early because they had a whole lot of pictures of some beer baron's new yacht to lay out and needed to figure out how to fit my column on the same page.
I winced when I read that email: rubbing shoulders with a beer baron's new yacht (and several new girlfriends, I'm sure) was not my idea of journalistic integrity, not even on newsprint, but I reminded myself of the lakhs of readers who would read my "brilliantly presented arguments" and maybe think for a few seconds before buying their next heavily sugared MNC cola drink.
(The quote is from Vir, who made my day when he praised a column I'd written last month on the pros and cons of American movies doing so well in India. Every once in a while, he says something like that which makes me think it wasn't such a bad idea marrying him.)
After viewing the Pepsi commercial a couple of times, my thoughts fell into place. I only had to touch the keyboard, and my thoughts flowed from my mind down to my fingers and appeared as words on the PC screen.
About an hour later, the column was written, revised and re-revised. I logged on to e-mail it, and downloaded my new mail.
There were several new e-mails from my publishers, editors, friends in India and abroad, and of course, the junk mail--"Have Viagra delivered directly to your mailbox!"--that always irritates me hugely. Besides the fact that penile enlargements are not high on my list of priorities!
When I first saw Mikey's e-mail, I almost mistook it for spam--that's the correct term for electronic junk mail I'm told. Then I saw his name in the Sender column and relaxed. I clicked on the email heading, thinking it was so like Mikey to email me instead of talking.
This is the mail that opened up.
- Mikey's E-mail
To: sarlavats@rediffmail.com
From: mikeyvats@rediffmail.com
Subject: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: WARNING: DO NOT VISIT THIS SITE
Date: 29 Jul 00 11:18:05 CDT
>>>> This is the website you've been looking for:
>>>> http://vvv.vvv.net
posted by Ashok K. Banker at 12.10.05
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