On-stage

There was this guy who was invited on-stage to present awards for a certain category at the Goafest ’08. He was the Chair of the Jury for that particular category.

He comes on stage, takes the mic for the few words he’s expected to say as the chair of the jury, in front of a crowd that’s s booing anybody choosing to actually take up that offer for talking.

He says, “I always wanted to say motherfu@#$% on stage. There, I said it.” And he hands the mic back.

Holier than thou?

Ad people are a strange lot.

I was at the Goafest about a week back. It was the most exciting festival I’ve seen in a long, long time. I love it. The sun, the parties, the unlimited alcohol, the sea, the unbridled passion for great creative work, basically everything about it. Which is exactly why I’ve been at all the three editions of the festival.

But the one thing I’ve not been able to get a fix on is how people don’t mingle. There is no animosity, or hatred (I put that a little too strongly for the loss of a better word to describe exactly what I mean). But there is that invisible boundary. A space, if you like, that cannot be breached. People are social, having fun, accommodating and all, but they just don’t mingle.

Why? Maybe it’s this deep-seated “our-work-is-better-than-yours” feeling. Or it’s that fierceness of competitive instinct and passion.

But its definitely there. Why else would even the most charming act I put up not let me land even one chick (in spite of the fact that she’s obviously interested)? Alright, I’m a little boring. But then, even the more charming guys ended up with zilch.

There is obviously something wrong. And I wonder “what it is!”