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The
awards night - An excuse to arrive late, take credit
for everything that has transpired, drink yourself
silly, exchange dirty gossip about fellow professionals,
roll back the years and impress members of the opposite
sex (or same depending on your preferences), scout
the job market and generally do the same things
you would otherwise do at office with one critical
difference, though you save yourself the onerous
task of picking which color to wear… all the
rest comes free in the normal workday.
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| Ram
- Eternal fall guy |
"Its
too hot. I don't even have anything that color.
Is it compulsory?" Ram muttered aloud after
reading the circular from the President about the
dress code for the night.
"You
bet your unconfirmed butt it is!" admonished
Vikas (Ram's boss) in a tone usually reserved by
Gandalf for errant hobbits. He then immersed himself
in an animated conversation with the three buxom
belles that he was going to be escorting that night.
"What
do you mean by meet in front of the restaurant in
front of BK chawl, What's a chawl? Is it like a
new multiplex or something?"
Ram
decided he needed to be elsewhere and quietly teleported
himself to his desk, still smarting from the impending
'uniformity' of the night.
"Haven't
worn something like this since school. Why do we
need something like that?" he rambled on, to
the untrained eye seeming to be immersed in a mountain
of work but in reality merely checking last night's
scores on the net.
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| Chai
Lai - Mystic philosopher |
"So
that beeg boss can keep eye on wheech fellow is
trying to go to wheech agency" the sound of
wisdom, the quick deposit of the teacup in Ram's
hands and Chai-La (the mystical Chinese canteen
boy) quickly vanished under an artwork flap.
Eight
hours later Ram found himself at the awards ceremony.
His mood had not since seen any improvement. He
was just about recovering from the 'uniform' caper
when Vikas asked him to cough up some cash for the
dinner passes.
"But
I don't want to do dinner..."
"Tut
tut this is your first time at the awards. Isn't
it? You must see what its like. Part of your education
plus everyone from the office is going so you can't
say no."
"But
I seem to be paying for two tickets…"
"Ahh
Chief I don't have money right now. I'll pay you
later"
Much
later or maybe never Ram had thought to himself.
So
there he sat in the last row, having only enough
money to reach home and no 'contingency' fund for
any excesses that the night might bring up. His
eyes scanned the people in front. Most of the agencies
were sitting together and since they were wearing
their own color it looked like a human shade card
had formed in front of him. There was wild revelry,
everyone was lustily cheering their victories and
launching savage personal arracks when another agency
would win. With Ram's agency there would always
be more of the latter activity.
"And
the award for the best TV campaign for the year
goes to…"
"Anyone
but us" said the cynical old hand who was sitting
next to Ram and it turned out to be an accurate
prediction.
PP
(the creative director) stood and belted out some
choice desi abuse at the organizers not too discreetly
casting doubts on their parentage. Vikas seeing
a rare moment to bond with PP also stood up and
joined PP in providing the English translations
for the same, simultaneously scoring vital points
with the buxom belles mentioned before and laying
the ground work for making PP do an overnight campaign
on Monday (now that's a vintage one for the yet
to be published Servicing Made Easy manual).
"It
was my idea that they copied. I used the same idea
in a commercial last year," said PP, hanging
on to his signature handlebar mustache almost like
a crutch.
"Yeah
man all these shows are fixed," Vikas jumped
onto the bandwagon.
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| PP
- Can't stand marketers |
"PP,
I feel so sorry for you. You are the best, these
guys are just jealous of you" that was Sarita,
the 'very senior account executive (VSAE)' and otherwise
Vikas's external organ.
More
voices surfaced in sympathy for PP as the President
rose to address his troops.
"Doesn't
matter guys if we did not win. Someone else seems
to have benefited from our thinking. But we were
the real winners here. We deserve that trophy and
I want each and every one of you to feel proud that
you belong to our agency. We are the best. We are
the champions and no crummy awards show can tell
us otherwise."
Loud
cheers erupted. It was like the frenzy one tries
to get into before plunging into battle or trying
to board the Virar local.
"Just
working up the mood for a few pegs. Aren't they?"
the old cynical hand was unmoved by all that had
happened and merely sat picking his ears through
it all.
"How
many awards have we won in the past? It seems we
might have been close runners for the agency of
the year quite a few times," inquired Ram,
making a mental note of not shaking paws with the
old cynical hand when good-byes were in order.
The
old cynical hand gave Ram the kind of look that
a studio manager gives a management trainee when
he asks if the artwork will be ready tomorrow.
"We
have never won anything in the last ten years. Not
even a cricket match."
Later
at the dinner party Ram made his way towards Tanya
(the creative trainee and usually the one bright
spot in Ram's day), she was hovering around KK,
the creative director of the one of the biggest
agencies in town, but competition was fierce, there
were already close to twenty young budding trainees
around him, drawn like moths to an electric bulb,
because of the trophy that he held balanced on his
paunch, all waiting for words of enlightenment from
the master.
"Well
you just have to have the stomach for this business…"
KK was saying, as the coterie around him erupted
into the kind of delirious laughter usually reserved
for servicing people by creative when they try and
come up with headlines.
"Hey
Tanya," began Ram, wondering how he could ask
her to dance without sounding desperate about the
whole thing (referred to in medical terms as the
lonely AE syndrome).
Tanya's
face melted into a smile, the kind of smile that
always sends out a clear message as to who the superior
gender is, without the accompanying fuss.
Ram
would have readily slid down the edge of a blade
using the tenderest parts of his anatomy as brakes.
However nothing that drastic was required.
"Ram,"
she began in a sing song kind of manner which I
can't really do justice to given the limitations
of the written word, "Why don't you just cover
me?"
Ram
could scarcely believe his luck, finally there seemed
to be a God, who even looked over unconfirmed account
executives.
"I
need to talk to KK, and you know PP, he will get
mad if he catches one of his people talking to his
rival. So stand in front of me and block his view."
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| Chief
- Doesn't have a clue |
Ram
felt he was being used. But as that was no different
from the way the rest of the week had panned out
he stood there like a human shield.
From
his vantage point he could watch what the rest were
up to.
PP
had the entire agency creative and those servicing
who would need urgent layouts on Monday around him.
He was on the same trip. Abusing the organisers,
thumping his own chest and making his 'insightful'
comments every 'quarter', which could only have
been tolerable had quarter been in terms of the
first three months of the year.
He
briefly caught Ram's eye. Ram quickly flashed a
smile and pointed desperately in a direction away
from him, wildly laughing so that the intensity
of PP's gaze would be transferred elsewhere. As
luck would have it he pointed in Vikas's direction.
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| Vikas
- Smooth operator |
Vikas
was trying to dance with the three buxom belles
at the same time. If only he did that much at work
Ram thought to himself.
PP liked what he saw especially Vikas's attempts
at bhangra, winked at Ram and passed out
over the table. Ram sighed in relief.
He
then spotted the President catching up on old times
with some other agency heads at the center of the
grounds; strangely for the amount they seemed to
be drinking their glasses always seemed full. Closer
inspection revealed that there were some eager beaver
young executives around them, who like the ball
boys at Wimbledon were zipping back and forth to
the bar ensuring that the big guys were always in
the right spirits.
The
old cynical hand was alone at a table but he seemed
to be the happiest. There was a small battalion
of upturned glasses in front of him and the expression
on his face was as if he had realised the deeper
meaning of life (wait a bit that cant really make
you feel better…lets just say he looked happy).
It
was half and hour since Ram had been at it. He felt
it was time to extract his pound of flesh. He mentally
rehearsed the line and when he was confident spun
around saying, "Tanya. Can I have the pleasure
of…" there was no Tanya.
He
scouted around to see her on the dance floor with
KK, encouraging him to dance, how could she? He
thought KK was to a dance partner what Sourav Ganguly
was to a shirt advertiser… Not very useful.
He
felt a craving for tea and wisdom. But Chai-La did
not deliver outside the office premises.
 After
stints at Lowe, Mudra and Everest, the author is
in the midst of a break to mentally prepare himself
for the challenges of Euro 2004 and the Athens Olympic
Games. He can be contacted at vinaykanchan@hotmail.com
(The views expressed here are those of the author
and indiantelevision.com need not necessarily subscribe
to the same)
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