A Moral lesson from the Mosquito Mythology

A cry for equality. A cry for recognition. From the beginning of Treta Yuga every bite reminds of that cry. Mosquitoes were terribly discriminated by the humans. Temples were built for the snakes and people worshiped them.The venomous creatures were offered sacred milk. Why ? A question that never received an answer. What mosquitoes wanted was just a few drops of blood. A bali. A blood offering from the humans. A ritual for their blood thirsty mosquito Lords. An equal status with the snakes.The Gods never accepted their proposal. The unheard cry became a rage. The rage became a rebellion. A bloody rebellion against the god and the mankind.

The chosen place was Kerala. The God’s own country.The Tourism God is entirely different and was not connected to this story. Mosquito breeding was less complicated than they expected. Thanks to rain, water, power cut, negligence and ego politics. Introduced a few new generation of warriors like Aedes, Culex, Asian tiger and Anopheles.The war strategy was called Viral war. Successfully spread Chikungunia, Dengue, Malaria, H1 N1 etc across the state in a high speed. Faster than the new age viral marketing. Liberated hundreds of souls from their diseased bodies. Doubts and pain sustained. The cry now got a different voice, a human voice.

Proposal for the construction of the biggest temple on earth got its quick clearance. Communist Politburo commented that it would a historical decision and would lead to an industrial revolution.Thousands of new temples were built across the state. Blood treatment plants and bottling units were mushroomed everywhere. They daily produced thousands of sachet packets containing 100 ml blood. Packet bloods become a hot selling stuff. Animals and birds were butchered only for blood. Employment generation showed a record high. Most of the mosquito repellent companies become bankrupt and some have shifted to the new packet blood business. Devotees started flowing to the temples with packet bloods in their hands. The doors of the mosquito temples were always kept open for them. The much awaited happiness has finally come back after a long time. The buzz sound was not heard again.

A Tale of Two Birds

We live in multitude. Our population is in billions. We have millions of dreams. We got thousands of Gods. Hundreds of Languages. But when we think about match boxes there is only one brand with two birds. We two. Two silhouetted birds sitting in a tree branch against the bright full moon. An image most of the people living in Kerala or in South India cannot forget. A brand name remembered by generations.

Many brands have come and gone. But a few will stay in people’s mind. We are living in an era where lots of global brands are fighting each other to grab our mind. It’s a battle for mind space. Marketers are burning their midnight oil to devise winning strategic plans. 4 Ps and next what? Brand Communication is going through a crazy time to dig out more and more customer contact points. Today promotions are following you in your Mobile, Email, Facebook, Orkut, Twitter, bed room and toilet. Advertisements are showing exaggerated sentiments, emotions, sympathy and gratitude to lure the minds. Film stars have got more acting potential in advertisements than in feature films. And their success is counted on the number of brand endorsements. The whole scenario looks like a well directed sophisticated drama. And we are paying for the ticket to watch this drama.

But the story of two birds has no advertisements, no promotions, no youtube videos and no virals . Neither in Above the line nor in Below the line communication. Survived in many storms and still have got the fire inside to blast a bomb. The Brand is living though the time and still not lost its high brand equity. Of course the brand equity is not measured by the Interbrand Corporation or any other global brand consulting firms. It’s measured by the people without using web analytics or vector maps. A good brand is a good feeling. We Two, the first name pops up in our mind when we think about a match box. So simple.

International School of Lorry Grafix.

You guess this is a piece of work by Marc Chagall, you are wrong. You guess this is a painting by Stanley Spencer, again you are wrong. Neither Da Vinci is connected to this nor Garafalo. This is not an exhibit of Christian art found in the Museum of Contemporary Religious Art at Saint Louis University.

What is this?

This is Indian Lorry Art. An art I found on the front top panel of a Lorry in a crowded street of Kerala. Believe me or not. This form of art is not in the syllabus of London’s Slade school of Fine Art. Not in Mumbai’s J.J school of Arts. Not in College of Fine Art Trivandrum. But this is taught in the streets, garages and workshops in India. There are no trained teachers to teach this and no students to learn this. No multi level skill tests and entrance exams for admission. Artists are employed on daily wages. For most of them this is just another job to earn their daily piece of bread.

Lorry art is ornamental in nature and influenced by the mural art patterns. Bright colors are the essence of this art. Flowers are the most inevitable element. Religious idols & symbols, landscapes, love symbols, elephants, birds and famous quotes are used in this art. This art makes our trucks eye-catching. The only reason why our trucks are outstanding in this world. This art carries our soul. The soul of India. We ought to preserve this and make it evolving. The Legacy of Indian Lorry art.

If you think the above article is a promotional stunt for my upcoming International School of Lorry Grafix you are again wrong.

Spanish Grand Prix Live

It was three or four. I am not sure. Numbers were always been a pain and every day I try to run away from numbers. Numbers are those silly mosquitoes that disturb your sleep and spoil your dreams. Compromise is the new language of Peace. Yes, there were three long pan stained tooth emerged out from his mouth. Curly oiled hair was not combed but looked like fresh black noodles (What?). He was wearing a fake Ray Ban Aviator so nobody can see his eyes. For a moment I thought of some south Indian superstars jumping and flying in air fighting for justice. I have enjoyed many movies of them playing super human auto drivers and taxi drivers. But this one was a bus driver in the state owned KSRTC SuperFast. A Superstar in a SuperFast!

There were hardly fifteen people sitting in the bus. I took the side seat in the front raw.

Suddenly a heat of compression ignited the diesel in the combustion chamber. A cloud of black smoke appeared in the air. A narrow gap opened between the flywheel and layshaft. The rusty gear box created a roaring sound like a lion. The wheels of the SuperFast performed a complete revolution. Within a second all passengers half opened their mouth to acknowledge the tremendous gain in the speed. The driver gave an attitude pause. He got fully charged. He ignored the traffic signals, crowd and all mad traffic in the road. Suddenly I fell into a state of delirium. There is no crwod in the road. The road is clean and smooth.I can only hear some vrooming sounds of cars. It is Circuit de Catalonia and I am in Barcelona, Spain. It was Lewis Hamilton in Mc Laren ahead of us. When I looked back; wow it was Fernando Alonso, my favorite driver. Then I tried to spot Kimi Raikonnen and his Ferrari. He was nowhere in the scene. Where is Jenson Button?. There was sound and smoke everywhere.One hour thirty minutes of drama of speed with high tech sound and visual effects.Then our team radio announced we are in fourth position in the final lap. No more pit stop for wheel change and re fuelling. A tight race. I heard the roaring sound of the gearbox once again and then experienced the ultimate momentum of flying. Yes I could see Button who was fast moving in the first position. Oh my God it happened. We overtook Button and finally saw the chequered flag. The victorious moment burst in to a celebration. Standing in the winner’s podium higher than Button and Barrichello our superstar smiled in anxiety. He carefully opened the Champagne bottle and sprayed the Champagne all over us. Few drops of it wet my face.

When I woke up it was raining outside. I closed the window shutter of my seat. After a few minutes I reached my destination. Later in the night before I sleep I thought about speed, competition, fast life, SuperFast, life insurance, victory, failure, time and numbers. Do numbers really matter?

( KSRTC SuperFast buses are known as the fastest vehicles in Kerala Roads)

A Stairway to Heaven.

This is a story of a beautiful lady who got only a soul and no body. You may be thinking what nonsense I am talking about. Wait a minute. One day, more precisely the first day in the month of August, our lady invaded the soul of a young man who was sitting in darkness and thinking nothing. Suddenly he woke up to the thought of buying a stairway to heaven. He walked straight to the shop with pocket full of cash. When he got there he knows the shop is closed. There was a message on the wall. He saw the sky is falling down and the earth is going up. Heard drum beats in his chest and felt his spirit is crying for leaving. Our lady so kind whispered him on his ears that words have two meanings. He went to backdoor of the shop there he saw a crowd. He fought with crowd and bought his stairway. Our lady got a smile in her face. And the young man’s soul climbed the stairway to Heaven. He giggled, he hummed, he jumped, he rolled, he screamed and he vomited. He found his body is getting in to the shape of a snake. And the snake crawled in to the hole. The lady began to dance. Unlocked her long black lustrous hair and whirled that in the air. Somebody said its Mudiyattam. Somebody said its Sufi dance. But everybody gazed at her, enjoyed the way she danced. She started throwing off her dress one by one. The crowd forgot about themselves and lost in bliss. Followers followed her everywhere. Medical practitioners said she is an addiction and tried to invent medicine to kill her. But they failed. An old monk who had achieved his inner consciousness declared she is a deadly poison. Nobody listened him not even his followers. Missionaries have preached she is the reincarnation of Satan but she got more and more worshippers. Some religions banned her. There were many attempts to kill her. But she has triumphed with more energy and enthusiasm. She danced in the occasions of birth and death. She danced in marriages and also in divorces. She cheered them celebrating their victories and also supported them in failures. She became companion of their loneliness and a permanent attendee of all thier occasions. Our Lady frequented discotheques, pubs, nightclubs and bars. Followers followed her. Now she is known as the Queen of Happiness. And she is ruling the ever growing kingdom of Happiness.

Back in the darkness the Prince of Fate opened a green coloured bottle with the picture of Caesar on it started counting One, Two, Three, Four. The chorus hummed the same. One, Two, Three, Four. And it became a song that broke the silence of the night.

*(First day of every month bars and liquor shops are closed in Kerala by Govt. Order)

Behind Every Fish curry meals

Time was around 11.00 am on the very next day of the solar eclipse. Solar eclipse really made sun so restless and looked so heated. I was travelling on the beach road in Alleppey, Kerala. There I could see a huge crowd at the sea. Fishermen in their hand- peddled country boats were working hard with their nets. Large number of fishing nets were thrown to the sea to get the best catch. One boat was named Israel and another was named Sivan Achan ( a hindu god) and so many names that I couldn’t read from far distance. The fishermen neither bothered the presence of the scorching sun nor tired of the long hours of work. Usually they go to sea early in the morning. In fact they were enjoying their work by singing songs and shouting at each other. Nothing stopped me from capturing this scene instantly. I just jumped out and captured one by one. I got wondered about the effort these people are taking to make people of Kerala happy everyday by providing thier favourite food– Fish, Kerala’s inevitable side dish. In kerala Life is beutiful with fish curry meals. For majority of Keralites the lunch is incomplete without fish curry. Sardine, makerel, seer fish, tuna, squid, prawns and the favour list goes on.Trolling ban has come into effect from 14 th June 09 in Kerala. So mechanized boats have to keep away from the sea during this period of ban and no deep sea fishing allowed. They can only use thier country boats for fishing which is locally called vallam.When I went back at 2.30 pm in the afternoon they were still working under the hot sun.Truly, they are the sons of the sea. And sea, thier mother,Eternal Mother.

(A series of high resolution images are available and will be sent to you on request)

The World of Banana Fry

Long Live hot selling Banana Fries. Trash French fries, Burgers, Hot dogs, Cutlets and all those nonsense that spoiled our body. World is coming back to banana fry. Cholesterol rich- fibrous- delicious snack of kerala made from ripe plantain. Deep fried in coconut oil and deeply rooted to the heart of Kerala. Call it Pazham Pori or Ethakka Appam or whatever you like. Peer shaped ladies of late 40’s and big bellied men of Kerala along with children of all ages pay their tribute to banana fry everyday. Diet conscious young ladies after long hours of workout in gym clandestinely meet banana fry. Alcoholic youth eat a dozen of it when they are occasionally conscious. Stop thinking about your unburned fat and throw your treadmill in to the Arabian Sea. Follow the millions of people who are in queue to take their grab. Shed all your inhibitions and alter ego. Clear your mind. Refresh your thoughts. Speak out your opinion. Banana fry is going to rule.