Let's discuss the "My life at ITC..." part first

Since it's just been two days, it could be a little premature to start talking about the last 7 years spent at ITC. However, a few things do come to mind :

1. I still keep thinking "We" should do more to increase the presence of Wills stores
2. I am forever tempted to open up the Analytics account and see what's been happening
3. I have opened up Debjit's creation 4 times since yesterday just to check if all's well - and not surprisingly, all is not well.

Come Friday, and the ball will be set rolling.......I just hope I can cope.....More later.

Mea Culpa, mea maxima culpa.......

She was good to me. Devoted, in love and most tolerant. Yet, I left her.

Abandonment seemed to be the panacea to the incessant banter of a woman hopelessly involved in what she believed was something sincere.

None of the above turned out to be anything close to the truth. At no point in time is this to be construed as a pathetic attempt to salvage the past. It's simply a chronicle and an acknowledgement of momentary lapses of reason.

And, then there was the one that moulded me. Mind-fucked me and left a piece of herself forever embedded in the darkest recess of the mind......a place which is beyond the control of the individual. That indelible memory, like a dormant virus, has influenced thoughts and actions ever since, to the point of formulating a mindset.

That, then, is the reason why I like dusky women.

Honey dusky, chocolate dusky, glossy and matt dusky.

Through my gravest faults, I have developed a liking for sexy skin. Through my faults, I have been condemned to a lifetime of drawing comparisons. Strangely enough, the one thing that I have pined for, the singular fascination that has driven me to ridiculous attempts of desk research on the subject, has eluded me ever since.

Mea Culpa. Through my faults.

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.

- She couldn't have been more apt. And when I look back at the numerous aberrations in the sinusoidal curve of the journey thus far, from the overtly horny ones to "La Tentatrice Diabolique", there emerges a pertinent Index.

Desire is a bitch and the irony of it is directly proportional to the time spent in condemning the one thing you wanted but couldn't have.

Mea Maxima Culpa. Through my gravest faults.

Random thoughts - Deux

And so, I start the second volume of random thoughts while my boss screeches his displeasure about my generally plummeting levels of efficacy.

Thought #2 : I'm a Brand and so's my brother.

We're also probably very succesful as brands. Allow me to explain :

Brand : An emoticon of collective responses from each and every responsive stakeholder : positive & negative gathered over a period of time through an unbiased medium / platform.

More the positive responses, larger is the Equity. Brand Equity is what Coke and Pepsi are spending amounts close to the GDP of some smaller nations for. Think about it : what sells is not flavoured, carbonated cola water; what sells is "Coke" - the second-most used word in the world after "Taxi". That's what's equity. And it can transform flavoured water into a century-and-a-half old icon.

Let's analyse the above definition in parts and put them into perspective :

(i) An emoticon of collective responses :

My mother loves me and so does my brother. The rest of the world collectively tends more toward a general disliking even though there are mixed emotions from outlying individuals eg : My father's indifferent, my girlfriend is selectively / occasionally tolerant of my myriad mood facets. All these opinions bordering more toward the dark makes me slightly dark, which was the purpose of things to begin with. Repel till you find a match. Only then does the world matter.
Therefore, I am reflective of people's opinions, whether true or false.
So's my brother : He's fat and ugly, but, a likable abomination.

(ii) From each and every responsive stakeholder :

Everyone who meets my brother or me is sure to formulate an opinion. Thankfuly, one can safely assume that we don't fall into the category of "also ran". I am quite sure that I can elicit a repsonse from even the most non-responsive of people simply because I am either repulsive or even worse, "nice". The same goes for my brother. Bengalis outside of their place of domicile are usually regarded thus, but, there's not a soul who can maintain that we're not worth a mention. 'Responsive' excludes half-witted North-Indians, whose principal expressions cover a wide range annotations of the word "yaar". They aren't meant to be counted, just used as alter-ego when the party gets boring.

(iii) An unbiased medium / platform :

This is most important. This is what truly helps build the brand because it's a manifestation of the singular most important virtue - Integrity.
We don't solicit an opinion. People usually offer them or simply lambast us in closed circles. But, never do we ask them to opinionate. Neither my brother nor I.
The secret lies in the inherent ability of bengalees to draw the ire of most North Indian communities and a lot praise from loving and proud bengalee family members / neighbours and local para dwellers when they sail the far seas in search of fortunes and find them.

My brother and I are Brands and very effective ones at that. We're as vanilla as cola, yet as saleable as DeusenBerg. We're as ordinary as a non-descript steel tristar, yet as effective as four-letter Bengalee surname.

Point is : Most of us are Brands, but, we refuse to garner the equity we so easily enjoy........I'll see you on the Dark side of the Moon. But, its up to you to make the cut.

Random thoughts

The objective as it seemed to me was to pen down some of the most random thoughts / ideas that could be the result of a wandering mind much akin to the idling engine of a car - not revving purposefully toward the redline, not retarding the revolutions to a decisive stop - just idling...... and the results seem to be most abstractly stunning.

Thought #1 : The way we write.

One of the most influential and powerful pieces of writing I have ever read is "Great Expectations" - Charles Dickens. If you've ever heard of a gentleman called 'Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay' - you will know why I am attempting to draw an analogy. These two gentleman had signature styles of writing, videlicet :

1) Characterised by potent, dry wit, driving a message home on a pertinent social issue - fine satire.
2) Long drawn sentences sprinkled generously with similes - hardly any metaphors - but lots of similes.

The only other person / author that I have come across in recent times, who's been able to pick up the threads from M/s Chatterjee and Dickens is a quaint little Bengali lady from Boston called Jhumpa Lahiri.

Similarly, if one had to trace out, using common sense sans literary incisiveness, the path taken by writing styles down to present day, one would see fantastic mysticism giving way to fantastic cynicism.

The mysticism is clearly evident in lyric written by Yeats, Wordsworth and our very own Michael Dutta. This was followed by the likes of Dickens, Chatterjee and Shaw.

If one had to pick up essays composed by some of my mates - Viren, Tanmay etc, one would surely be able to see the stark yet subtle shift in paradigm.

From wonderment and a general awe of the unknown to the cynical unravelling of life's secrets. Life has no secrets left, because, and, admittedly so, our generation is discovering answers everyday.

What then do we write about? Everything Morbid. Viren wants to describe the dying moments of a car thief; Tanmay has some other shadowed interests.

Don't get me wrong - they're all very commendable pieces of writing - but, they are also reflective of the fact that, as a generation, we are increasingly beginning to stop asking questions and starting to condemn the truth.

Read the subject line of this site once more and think for a moment -

If your head explodes with dark forebodings too............More later

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon;
And if there is no room upon the hill;
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too;
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.