I never imagined the day was so near. Like, so damn near !
But it is (was) and now I am at home sleeping till 8.30, waking up to think that on a normal day my bus would have reached Tripunithura by now; at 9.30 I am having breakfast and I can't stop smiling thinking, how at this time none of you reached office and I was happily cyber scaffing! ; at 11.30 I am watching a discussion on tv and my mind wanders to the chai-time discussions we had; at 12.30 I am lunching and I know that you guys are not even hungry....every train of thought is somehow leading to that little space we so fondly called our own, where we laughed, giggled, argued over silly stuff and did everything but work. Ok, I am exaggerating. There were times when we worked. ;)
I won't say it's bad sitting at home doing nothing. I am kind of enjoying it. But it is also true that I am missing a lot of stuff. I guess I must get straight to the point of this post, which is very simple. I want to thank you guys for being there, for loving me, for giving me opportunities for personal and professional growth (that last line is right outta my rsg. letter, but I mean it), for being true friends. I would be sinning if I do not write something nice about each one of you here. So here it is, from the depths of my heart...
Expresso aka RGB: I have never met anyone who can actually look 'perfection' in the eye and say 'I personify you'. RGB is a perfectionist when it comes to her work. You would overlook it- a spot on the design with a darker tint, an almost invisible line running around a nmemonic, a slight change in the tone of the copy, a broken link, a spelling mistake...the list goes on. On a personal level, she's the most chilled out person you would have ever met. No pretences, unnecessary flourishes, ego, attitude or bossiness. A friend who lends you a willing ear no matter how silly the subject you are talking about, who has a hundred interesting tales to narrate (re-re-re-replay sometimes..hihi), who encourages, motivates and inspires. I pray to God that everyone gets a boss like her. But I guess the Lord is busy. Wonder if He would entertain such requests. I can already sense that there would be none like you in the future. You have spoilt me for sure! Love you!
KK aka Holy Lama: Truth, righteouness, knowledge, goodness, spirituality...these words resonate when I say the words Holy Lama. The fact that it has little or nothing to do with what you really are (fun, funny, naughty), is something I choose to shrug off. You definitely are my holy guru. Who do I turn to for advice in times of distress, who shows me the inside of her palm with the tip of the thumb and index finger touching each other, saying All izz well, who mesmerizes me with that halo around the head (a trick of the light of course), and who, finally who, smiles that wicked smile and mouth that funny hash-push accent, making all woes disappear into thin air? Who? Who? Who? Of course, YOU! What would our office have been, without a soul like you? KK is just the person to go to when your spirits are low, hopes hit rock bottom and when the world seems unjust and unfair. Speaking to her you will realize, just how trivial your own mental problem is. ;)
Well, take this. KK is the only person on the face of this earth who will laugh heartily at a jibe like this. Sporty, thy name is Lama. :) Your are kids are lucky to have a mom like you around. I have never said this to you but I feel obliged to share the details of my day with you. Somehow, narrating them to you makes me feel great. I love the way you talk, yes, I do. :) I love you. Miss our non-stop chattering :(
Latte aka Novice Writer: You made the process of settling in easy. No, that's an understatement. You made me realize that it was not important to know a person for a hundred years to be able to call them your best friend. The best thing about you is that you are sensitive, which makes you sensitive to other's feelings. You can never hurt a person. Intentionally or unintentionally. You are crazy enough to have dreams where vampire attacks turn you into a rabid dog, where ants where pants and where all the books that you have read and not read, form a frightening collage! In you I found another sister, a friend for life. :) I love you. You have a bright creative spark and please, please, please, don't let it die down. Fuel it, nurture it and I see you going places. Literally and otherwise. :) I have not even said half of what I feel about you but I must say this, you really mean a lot to me.
Well, so that's that. This is what I feel. Before I get too emotional and all that let me round off saying that I was destined to meet you people. That's why I also call myself Destiny's child. Because so far, my destiny has taken me to people and places I have loved. Wish me luck dear friends, I hope my destiny continues riding this good tide....
-Cappuccino
Showing posts with label espresso. Show all posts
Showing posts with label espresso. Show all posts
Humour strikes a chord with joblessness and absolute boredom
We’re trying hard to laugh. Well, most of the time. We think if we’re not funny, or if we don’t understand if someone else is funny, we’re not part of the “team”.
We strike animated conversations (exaggerated expressions and hand gestures) assuming that we’re visible only to the equally mad teammates and invisible to the rest of the office.
We fish for comments (read compliments), both offline and online. Offline, by trumpeting our day’s achievements…errr…tasks (which goes like – “my maid’s away and I had to get up early to prepare breakfast and lunch for my daughter” – and I pray they don’t ask “what did you make” – but they do – and I had to cough up the truth with a sheepish grin – “cheese sandwich for breakfast, cheese & shredded chicken sandwich for lunch” – and shredded chicken was the leftover-reheated version of my maid’s chicken dish, btw!). Online, by literally taking out a begging bowl and loafing from one blog to another, leaving traces of our footprints, so that they trace it back to ours and leave a nice comment, whether they like it or not.
Coming back to the topic of humour and how it connects with joblessness and boredom…The recession did it, I tell you. We were neck deep in work until then. We took the fourth person on board, because we couldn’t handle the endless jobs that came in with deadlines like “yesterday”. And then, recession came in. After which, new work hardly came in.
The joblessness is driving us up the wall. We’re sinking deep into boredom. Most often, we go searching for matchsticks to keep our eyes open, especially after lunch time. Now we’re waiting for the teeny-weeny morsels (any job – even if it’s just editing content) to be thrown our way, like wet-behind-the-ears puppies, eager to lap up anything that comes our way.
We throw in the humour just to keep our spirits up. We laugh at pretty much anything, even if remotely funny. I make funny faces & funny sounds (they join in) and narrate incidents at home – which primarily revolve around my 2 children (presuming that “they” are enjoying every minute of it). The 2 big time dreamers of the team narrate weird dreams and nightmares with each or any of us playing the weirdest part in it and I naively ask “how do you remember your dream so distinctly, when try as much as I do, fail to bring even 1 dream successfully to the table?”. She sings, nay croons, nay raps …jeez, I give up…she thinks she sings and expects a standing ovation. We keep the spirit up. We play our part. We give her a standing ovation. We laugh. We disperse. But we’re back after the short break. To continue our long, jobless, boring day with our self-amusing jokes, dreams, stories, songs…and other such nonsense.
We strike animated conversations (exaggerated expressions and hand gestures) assuming that we’re visible only to the equally mad teammates and invisible to the rest of the office.
We fish for comments (read compliments), both offline and online. Offline, by trumpeting our day’s achievements…errr…tasks (which goes like – “my maid’s away and I had to get up early to prepare breakfast and lunch for my daughter” – and I pray they don’t ask “what did you make” – but they do – and I had to cough up the truth with a sheepish grin – “cheese sandwich for breakfast, cheese & shredded chicken sandwich for lunch” – and shredded chicken was the leftover-reheated version of my maid’s chicken dish, btw!). Online, by literally taking out a begging bowl and loafing from one blog to another, leaving traces of our footprints, so that they trace it back to ours and leave a nice comment, whether they like it or not.
Coming back to the topic of humour and how it connects with joblessness and boredom…The recession did it, I tell you. We were neck deep in work until then. We took the fourth person on board, because we couldn’t handle the endless jobs that came in with deadlines like “yesterday”. And then, recession came in. After which, new work hardly came in.
The joblessness is driving us up the wall. We’re sinking deep into boredom. Most often, we go searching for matchsticks to keep our eyes open, especially after lunch time. Now we’re waiting for the teeny-weeny morsels (any job – even if it’s just editing content) to be thrown our way, like wet-behind-the-ears puppies, eager to lap up anything that comes our way.
We throw in the humour just to keep our spirits up. We laugh at pretty much anything, even if remotely funny. I make funny faces & funny sounds (they join in) and narrate incidents at home – which primarily revolve around my 2 children (presuming that “they” are enjoying every minute of it). The 2 big time dreamers of the team narrate weird dreams and nightmares with each or any of us playing the weirdest part in it and I naively ask “how do you remember your dream so distinctly, when try as much as I do, fail to bring even 1 dream successfully to the table?”. She sings, nay croons, nay raps …jeez, I give up…she thinks she sings and expects a standing ovation. We keep the spirit up. We play our part. We give her a standing ovation. We laugh. We disperse. But we’re back after the short break. To continue our long, jobless, boring day with our self-amusing jokes, dreams, stories, songs…and other such nonsense.
-Espresso
A note to the boss: We’re not really jobless. Please do not throw us out of our jobs. We’re actually researching websites to improve our writing skills (like hell!).
To the girls: I was just trying to be funny!
To others: I’ve hyped up the ‘joblessness’ and ‘boredom’ bit - a bit, to make it sound a bit exciting. We’re not really that jobless, maybe just a bit.
A note to the boss: We’re not really jobless. Please do not throw us out of our jobs. We’re actually researching websites to improve our writing skills (like hell!).
To the girls: I was just trying to be funny!
To others: I’ve hyped up the ‘joblessness’ and ‘boredom’ bit - a bit, to make it sound a bit exciting. We’re not really that jobless, maybe just a bit.
Not homesick, never
This was part of our over-a-cuppa discussion this evening. As usual, we were talking about this and that, and I'm not sure how it all got started, but here is how it went...
Me: When I was in the NCC, I attended the RD (Republic Day) Camp at Delhi, which was a month long camp.
Others: Listening (maybe wondering...oh no! not again!!)
Me: Almost at the fag end of the camp I got this telegram from my father. My camp commandant & superiors were all worried and called me over immediately. They were anxiously waiting for me to tear it open and read the contents. There were just 3 words printed on it. DEAD OR ALIVE?
Others: What?
Me: I hadn't written or called my parents in the almost 1 month period that I had been in the camp. My camp superiors were furious. They got me to write a long letter to my folks back at home right in front of them, just in case I changed my mind when I got back to the bunker.
Others: One month and you didn't write or call them? No wonder your dad sent you that telegram.
Me: That's me. When I get out of home, I'm in my own world. And I presume everybody else thinks that I'll do fine and leave me alone. But that's not how this world works. Some day, I'll mend my ways. Maybe, when my kids grow up and do the same with me!
- Espresso
Me: When I was in the NCC, I attended the RD (Republic Day) Camp at Delhi, which was a month long camp.
Others: Listening (maybe wondering...oh no! not again!!)
Me: Almost at the fag end of the camp I got this telegram from my father. My camp commandant & superiors were all worried and called me over immediately. They were anxiously waiting for me to tear it open and read the contents. There were just 3 words printed on it. DEAD OR ALIVE?
Others: What?
Me: I hadn't written or called my parents in the almost 1 month period that I had been in the camp. My camp superiors were furious. They got me to write a long letter to my folks back at home right in front of them, just in case I changed my mind when I got back to the bunker.
Others: One month and you didn't write or call them? No wonder your dad sent you that telegram.
Me: That's me. When I get out of home, I'm in my own world. And I presume everybody else thinks that I'll do fine and leave me alone. But that's not how this world works. Some day, I'll mend my ways. Maybe, when my kids grow up and do the same with me!
- Espresso
Angel in disguise
Long, long ago...when I just started to walk, and maybe when I realized that my legs could actually take me wherever I please...my life played out like a nightmare.
My dad was deputed on the auditing job, so we literally travelled country-wide back then - Dad, mom, sometimes my sis, and myself (My sis and I were just 1 year apart. As it was difficult to manage 2 little kids in unknown places on her own, mom left my sis back at her parents' place - in Calicut during this trip). It was some place in Andhra Pradesh, if I remember right. We didn't know the local language (Telugu). Dad & Mom managed with English and the spatter of Hindi they knew.
It was just a week in this new place. My mom rubbed oil over my whole body and left me for maybe about 5 minutes to get some hot water for the bath. Meanwhile, I ventured out of the bathroom. Reached the gate, opened the lock and wandered around the entrance (Not sure what exactly happened here, because this is a third person account that I am relating here).
Our milk-maid was walking down our lane to deliver milk at our house, when she saw this stranger carrying me and walking in the opposite direction. He didn't look related to us and she'd never seen him in the vicinity before. By instinct, she realized there was something wrong. She immediately approached him and enquired who he was, how he was related to me and where he was headed with me in his arms...He fumbled for words. She smelt it right away. She threatened to report him to the police unless he handed me over to her immediately. He couldn't get himself to say anything, since this was out of the blue. He expected to get away scotfree. He did eventually. But at least he was frightened enough to put me down and make his escape while he could.
Back at home, my mom was all anxious and wondering where I had vanished. Her eyes were welling with tears and flooding down her cheeks. She didn't know what to do. The Bank Manager came down and consoled her saying they'd do everything they could to help find me. And then, the milk-maid made a grand entry, with me in her arms. She narrated the whole incident. My mom thanked her profusely , thanked God and everybody around. It was a miracle indeed. My angel in disguise!
I still wonder what would have happened to me if the milk-maid hadn't come there that very moment . He would have probably whisked me away, pulled out an eye or two, given me a begging bowl and sent me out in the streets to beg. It's big business I hear. It happens, really! Hundreds of children are , this very moment. It's sad, but it's the truth. Wish we could do something to stop this horrendous crime!
- Espresso
My dad was deputed on the auditing job, so we literally travelled country-wide back then - Dad, mom, sometimes my sis, and myself (My sis and I were just 1 year apart. As it was difficult to manage 2 little kids in unknown places on her own, mom left my sis back at her parents' place - in Calicut during this trip). It was some place in Andhra Pradesh, if I remember right. We didn't know the local language (Telugu). Dad & Mom managed with English and the spatter of Hindi they knew.
It was just a week in this new place. My mom rubbed oil over my whole body and left me for maybe about 5 minutes to get some hot water for the bath. Meanwhile, I ventured out of the bathroom. Reached the gate, opened the lock and wandered around the entrance (Not sure what exactly happened here, because this is a third person account that I am relating here).
Our milk-maid was walking down our lane to deliver milk at our house, when she saw this stranger carrying me and walking in the opposite direction. He didn't look related to us and she'd never seen him in the vicinity before. By instinct, she realized there was something wrong. She immediately approached him and enquired who he was, how he was related to me and where he was headed with me in his arms...He fumbled for words. She smelt it right away. She threatened to report him to the police unless he handed me over to her immediately. He couldn't get himself to say anything, since this was out of the blue. He expected to get away scotfree. He did eventually. But at least he was frightened enough to put me down and make his escape while he could.
Back at home, my mom was all anxious and wondering where I had vanished. Her eyes were welling with tears and flooding down her cheeks. She didn't know what to do. The Bank Manager came down and consoled her saying they'd do everything they could to help find me. And then, the milk-maid made a grand entry, with me in her arms. She narrated the whole incident. My mom thanked her profusely , thanked God and everybody around. It was a miracle indeed. My angel in disguise!
I still wonder what would have happened to me if the milk-maid hadn't come there that very moment . He would have probably whisked me away, pulled out an eye or two, given me a begging bowl and sent me out in the streets to beg. It's big business I hear. It happens, really! Hundreds of children are , this very moment. It's sad, but it's the truth. Wish we could do something to stop this horrendous crime!
- Espresso
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…
Well, it happens after you are married to someone who doesn’t understand why we need to celebrate birthdays at all!
Birthday was a special day for us, back at home. My mom used to bake us delicious cakes (yum-scrum!), with all the frills and to top it all – with the icing on top (Happy bday da, da, da…) for each of our birthdays. The whole process of preparation was itself fun (My sis & I, under the premise of helping mom with the baking, help with eating the cherries, cashews, raisins and even lick up the leftover batter and the icing instead!). And on the d-day, mom used to play the tape with the birthday song (the same that we’ve listened to for as long as I can remember) – the birthday baby (dad, mom, sis or myself) gets to make a wish, blow the candles, cut the cake and resume our otherwise routine day. We used to get each other surprise gifts – big or small didn’t matter – it was the gesture that was all important.
Now after marriage and two kids, it’s only these fond memories that remain. I try to (first) gently remind my hubby almost a month back…
Me: (clearing my throat) my birthday’s coming up (again, clearing my throat) what do you plan to get me this time around?!
Hubby: Well, you’ve got a car, you’ve got a card…go ahead, buy anything you want!
Me: What do you mean? You’re supposed to buy me something as a gift!
Hubby: Ok, what do you want?
Me: I dunno. You’re supposed to come with an idea. Buy anything you think I’ll like.
Hubby: Phew! How about a watch? Or how about some gold ornament? That would be an investment as well!
Me: There you go again! Thinking of making an investment rather than buying me a gift.
It’s the same story every year. But I’m not giving up. Try and try until you succeed, they say. Put on the long face, it helps sometimes. He gave in last year. Bought me a solitaire. This year, I grabbed an outfit (for once, I didn’t care about the price tag!). Today, I’m dressed in it. Because…it’s my birthday!
Thank you,
Espresso
Birthday was a special day for us, back at home. My mom used to bake us delicious cakes (yum-scrum!), with all the frills and to top it all – with the icing on top (Happy bday da, da, da…) for each of our birthdays. The whole process of preparation was itself fun (My sis & I, under the premise of helping mom with the baking, help with eating the cherries, cashews, raisins and even lick up the leftover batter and the icing instead!). And on the d-day, mom used to play the tape with the birthday song (the same that we’ve listened to for as long as I can remember) – the birthday baby (dad, mom, sis or myself) gets to make a wish, blow the candles, cut the cake and resume our otherwise routine day. We used to get each other surprise gifts – big or small didn’t matter – it was the gesture that was all important.
Now after marriage and two kids, it’s only these fond memories that remain. I try to (first) gently remind my hubby almost a month back…
Me: (clearing my throat) my birthday’s coming up (again, clearing my throat) what do you plan to get me this time around?!
Hubby: Well, you’ve got a car, you’ve got a card…go ahead, buy anything you want!
Me: What do you mean? You’re supposed to buy me something as a gift!
Hubby: Ok, what do you want?
Me: I dunno. You’re supposed to come with an idea. Buy anything you think I’ll like.
Hubby: Phew! How about a watch? Or how about some gold ornament? That would be an investment as well!
Me: There you go again! Thinking of making an investment rather than buying me a gift.
It’s the same story every year. But I’m not giving up. Try and try until you succeed, they say. Put on the long face, it helps sometimes. He gave in last year. Bought me a solitaire. This year, I grabbed an outfit (for once, I didn’t care about the price tag!). Today, I’m dressed in it. Because…it’s my birthday!
Thank you,
Espresso
Life is maid
I spent 4 harrowing days working my ass off, back at home. My maid was away on leave, and I was left with household chores – cooking, cleaning, washing the dishes etc. Though my better half helped me with cooking, still, it was a bit exhausting for me – considering kitchen is one of the places I detest, most! I had just one fervent prayer. Lord, bring the maid back to me quick! I am weary and on my knees.
Life without a maid is hell. When I get back home after a long day at work (after picking up my 6 year old daughter from my mom’s place), I see my li’l one jumping with excitement and putting out her arms for me to pick her up. So I spend some time coochy-cooing, then put her on a walker (she doesn’t like it much!) quickly catch up with family as to what happened during the day, do the ‘survival’ cooking – just bare basic stuff – rice, curds and one side dish, feed the baby, grab a bite myself, wash the plates, clean up and then drop dead – well almost, bcoz I’d sleep like a log if not for the in-between baby feeds.
That being my routine, almost every day, I’m really grateful my maid is back. I’m thanking the heavens. Now, I can at least put up my feet and relax for a while. Not think about what to cook. Not break my back doing chores I’m not really fond of. My life is made, er…maid!
- Espresso
Life without a maid is hell. When I get back home after a long day at work (after picking up my 6 year old daughter from my mom’s place), I see my li’l one jumping with excitement and putting out her arms for me to pick her up. So I spend some time coochy-cooing, then put her on a walker (she doesn’t like it much!) quickly catch up with family as to what happened during the day, do the ‘survival’ cooking – just bare basic stuff – rice, curds and one side dish, feed the baby, grab a bite myself, wash the plates, clean up and then drop dead – well almost, bcoz I’d sleep like a log if not for the in-between baby feeds.
That being my routine, almost every day, I’m really grateful my maid is back. I’m thanking the heavens. Now, I can at least put up my feet and relax for a while. Not think about what to cook. Not break my back doing chores I’m not really fond of. My life is made, er…maid!
- Espresso
The Devil's Workshop
I'm starting up a workshop. Coz I've got nothing better to do. Yeah...I'm going by that good old idiom...An idle mind is a devil's workshop.
Well, what's my workshop going to be about. Hmmm...A workshop on how to idle away time. How about that? Bad, eh? Lemme think again. Ok, got it. Something constructive for a change. Let this workshop be a platform to exchange interesting information, snippets, something new you or I have learnt, so on and so forth. Want to join up my workshop? You're welcome.
My sessions begin...
Well, what's my workshop going to be about. Hmmm...A workshop on how to idle away time. How about that? Bad, eh? Lemme think again. Ok, got it. Something constructive for a change. Let this workshop be a platform to exchange interesting information, snippets, something new you or I have learnt, so on and so forth. Want to join up my workshop? You're welcome.
My sessions begin...
Lesson No.1:
No English words rhyme fully with orange, silver, or month (however, there are some pararhymes for these words, such as salver for silver and lozenge for orange).
Lesson No.2:
The longest words that can be typed on a standard QWERTY keyboard using only the left hand are twelve letters long. There are six such words: aftereffects, desegregated, desegregates, reverberated, reverberates, and stewardesses.
Lesson No.3:
"Dreamt" is the only English word ending in "mt".
- Espresso
Ladies n gentlemen, here I am, lil miss cappuccino! ;)
Lesson No.4:
Malayalam is the only language which is also a palindrome!
Lesson No. 5
"Marry" in Shakesperean English meant "By Mary"
KK
Lesson No. 6
Oh this is just..well...[the most functional word in the English language]
Read it: http://www.funfacts.com.au/the-most-functional-word-in-the-english-language/
Latte
Those were the days...
"Those were the days my friend
I wish they'd never end..."
Hmmm... our hot discussions almost always begin with the most innocent comments from any of the crazy 4 members. And unwind into the good, bad, ugly, hilarious, (and what not!) subjects - Reminiscence of our yesteryears, as we recount them with all the excitement left over, after tea that rather tastes like sweet milk flavoured with tea!
Back then, in nineteen hundred and something....I begin. And I hear giggle...there she goes again, they say! Hey, I'm keeping you amused guys. Isn't that something? Trying to be insane, to keep my sanity.
What I started out to be, and what's become of me. I've always had this urge to do something different. But what I've been doing for dog years now, is pretty much routine. Work-home and nothing else in between!
Anyways, I'm not complaining. Bcoz, I do have an easy life. A family that understands me and lets me be who I am, a job that's not too hard, team-mates who are as crazy as I am, blah-blah!
But, I'd like to believe that I'm made of better stuff. I could have been there, done that. Things that I did not want, I ended up doing or being. For eg. I never wanted to settle down in Kerala, but here I am. I never wanted to marry a typical mallu boy 'born-and-brought-up-in-Kerala' (afraid that he would turn out to be another male chauvinist), but ended up marrying one (luckily he isn't the chauvinistic kind). I never wanted to get into an IT Company (I prefer working in an ad agency), but I've been working in one for almost 5 years now (though what I'm doing is still the creative side of it)....And the list of 'I never wanted to..., but ended up doing!' is aplenty.
Still, I'm not complaining. B'coz life could have been harsher. I'm just glad it isn't. And I'm thanking my lucky stars and the good Lord above that I've got a great family, a decent job, a fine home and plenty of friends, when so many of them don't have any!
OK. now somebody tell me how the f*** am I gonna wrap up this blog. One thing leads to another. And I just can't stop, as always. Help!
Yours truly,
Espresso
Brother, can you spare me a dime?
The topic over a cuppa today was "begging". And to think it all started with "chai-chai"! As always, Katten started it. And then, there was just no stopping us.
We spoke about train journeys, eunuchs, beggars...phew! There was a report in the papers today about a beggar who had about INR13 lakhs in savings...and we almost considered begging as a serious profession.
Well, the way we're headed, the recession and everything that came with it, it might not be too long when we'll have to dust our guitars, pull a string and set out with a begging bowl. Would you spare me a dime, then?
We spoke about train journeys, eunuchs, beggars...phew! There was a report in the papers today about a beggar who had about INR13 lakhs in savings...and we almost considered begging as a serious profession.
Well, the way we're headed, the recession and everything that came with it, it might not be too long when we'll have to dust our guitars, pull a string and set out with a begging bowl. Would you spare me a dime, then?
Yours truly,
Espresso
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Had a Cuppa
Remember the time
Who can ever forget the “timeless” hit number of Michael Jackson, the King of Pop! I grew up listening to his songs. My friends & I have even performed MJ’s popular hits at school & college. It is so unfortunate that he died all so suddenly. Just as mysteriously as he lived his life!
It’s surprising he could keep his personal life under wraps. You know, him being a global pop icon and all! The magic he worked on screen and on stage - his moon walk, his high-voltage and high-energy performances…it’s no surprise that he emerged an icon within a short span. And to imagine, he’s not around anymore!
But he’s left behind a legacy in music. I stand up and salute him, for that. Let’s trash the tittle-tattle (true or untrue, nobody knows for sure!) that did the rounds during his lifetime and even after his death (they won’t even let him R.I.P), and celebrate or rather continue to enjoy his music.
Thriller, Bad, Beat-it, Dangerous, Black or White…. Heal the World.
This column is dedicated to Michael Jackson, the King of Pop. I’ve been wanting to write this ever since he died, but never been able to, until now. Better late than never. And a time never to forget!
It’s surprising he could keep his personal life under wraps. You know, him being a global pop icon and all! The magic he worked on screen and on stage - his moon walk, his high-voltage and high-energy performances…it’s no surprise that he emerged an icon within a short span. And to imagine, he’s not around anymore!
But he’s left behind a legacy in music. I stand up and salute him, for that. Let’s trash the tittle-tattle (true or untrue, nobody knows for sure!) that did the rounds during his lifetime and even after his death (they won’t even let him R.I.P), and celebrate or rather continue to enjoy his music.
Thriller, Bad, Beat-it, Dangerous, Black or White…. Heal the World.
This column is dedicated to Michael Jackson, the King of Pop. I’ve been wanting to write this ever since he died, but never been able to, until now. Better late than never. And a time never to forget!
Yours truly,
Espresso
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Had a Cuppa
How about a cuppa?
It all started over a cup of tea. Like all great ideas do!
4 Copywriters, one whackier than the other, drifting from one topic to another, with no cares in this world. And we decided to put it all down in one blog - Over a Cuppa Copy.
'Over a Cuppa' - bcoz that's where it all started; and 'Copy' (rather than Coffee) - bcoz we're talking 'in B&W' here, aren't we?!
Just wanted to get this blog started...More, next time...I promise!
- Espresso aka Rhino
4 Copywriters, one whackier than the other, drifting from one topic to another, with no cares in this world. And we decided to put it all down in one blog - Over a Cuppa Copy.
'Over a Cuppa' - bcoz that's where it all started; and 'Copy' (rather than Coffee) - bcoz we're talking 'in B&W' here, aren't we?!
Just wanted to get this blog started...More, next time...I promise!
- Espresso aka Rhino
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