It is December. And I do not have a plan. In 24 days time, the year will melt. That's when you will probably be doing something stupid, romantic, nostalgic or pathetic. With or without your loved ones. In a new city or a house party in some stranger's log cabin that you will never go back to.
If you are lucky you will get stoned, attacked by lesbians and win a lottery the next day. And also have a fantastic new year's story to share with nervous colleagues in hushed voices. Perhaps you will tweet through the ordeal. Maybe you will even write a book, sell the rights and make a killing. Everyone is in on the intellectual rights business these days. (Don’t believe me? Hell, I just got a buyout quote from a not-that-big music director for a 30 second strumming of the guitar. And it stands at 10 lakh.)
I digress. The point is it is time to wrap up the year. And everyone is in a mood to do the damn job as quickly and painlessly as possible. You know, sum up all the good parts of the year in a line or two, swallow the heartbreaks and the bad parts with a hurried grimace and move on. To another 365 days of trying and stumbling while doing the same things and pretending that they are different. And I shall attempt to do the same. I have been more than decent at my job. Setting up an advertising agency is no joke really. And apart from all the real problems to solve – like who gets the better computer, there is also a genuine, burning desire to do good work and build a great culture.
We are getting there I think. I have been an average photographer. Though I don’t walk around with the camera any more I am investing a lot of time and energy in learning a lot more. Trying to understand myself is also a significant part of the process. And not a very pleasant one, if I might add. But having said that, I also managed to shoot three major campaigns this year. Add to that one book cover for Penguin and three more in the pipeline sort of makes it liveable.
I have been a hopeless son. I don’t call my mother as regularly as I would like to. And when I do call I am usually in a hurry to hang up. I am making up for this one even as you read this. #ashamed I have almost given up squash because of my very rare and debilitating condition called procrastination. I am back on twitter. I have a larger shoe size. I have a smaller head. I went to London (and Scotland) and often start stories with, "When I was in Scotland..." I haven’t saved a penny. I have made a new friend.
Thus, I have decided basis my own pretzel logic that my last few days of the year must be spent in sheer joy. Hence, I officially refuse to take stress. I refuse to let other people tie me down. I have decided I will follow what I am good at and only do that. I will not let dumb people irritate me. I will give in easy if that means I escape unhurt. I will cook more often. I will lose more weight. I will not harm you. And just in case, I have hurt you in the past one year, I am truly and deeply sorry.
Blame it on the drugs.
2 comments:
The point is it is time to wrap up the year. And everyone is in a mood to do the damn job as quickly and painlessly as possible.
I blogged about your photos.
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