You don’t need an eye for Photography. You need a vision.

In a generation where self portraits (i.e. selfies) have taken over the lives and phone space of millions, I came across an advertisement that wasn’t just a visual treat or brilliant copy; it was a full package experience.

While I was in college a professor of mine had told me, “Mute the ad and watch it. If you understand what the message is, the work’s done and done well”. I came across the thumbnail of the Lux Perfume Portrait Ad several times this week, but didn’t bother opening it. What new is left for Lux to offer? Another sensual ad with Katrina looking dreamy? (Tip: Watch all of Katrina’s ads on mute. Slice, Choc On, Lux choose your pick, you will see what I mean). But then I came across the Behind the Scenes with Bhavesh Patel – The Photographer. It caused an intrigue, and I clicked on it. Go on! Watch it first! You wont regret it. Keep the volume high and your senses open to absorb this piece of art.

First let me do a happy dance because good ads are back and it’s only the start of 2015 *Does Happy Dance*

Now, to delve in deeper. Notice, happy people are ALWAYS beautiful. They have more colour in their cheeks because their blood is coursing through their veins at a more rapid pace. THAT is the scientific justification. How I see it is, when someone is happy – They are comfortable and being comfortable is sexy. That dash of perfume you use for your date night, it’s the special perfume, the one you use for special occasions only. Why? Not because the components of the perfume are any different, they are all just different moods/fragrances bottled up in fancy cut glass jars. But that dash of perfume tends to kick in the confidence, helps you pick your chin up and flash that million dollar smile. You feel no less than Katrina Kaif or ever better perhaps. Katrina in this ad does the exact same thing for the photographer – looks stunning, knows it and owns it. Her aura overwhelms him. He calls her fragrance ‘sensual yet playful’. The colour purple brings out the sensuality and the ‘fabric playing’ is playful. But how does HE know that? The Fragrance. Notice how the word Fragrance is used. Not smell, not odour, not scent but fragrance. The source of this fragrance is Katrina who is represented as the Black Orchid that in the initial part of the ad both the photographer and her are seen smelling. That’s how the photographer could make the connect between the two and create magic.

This wasn’t an ad, it was Art. A Perfume Portrait of Katrina Kaif, keeping in mind her sensual and playful fragrance – All thanks to Lux.

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Rightly stated, we all discovered the power of fragrances.

Shit Happens

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Once Upon a Time.”

Once upon a time, in a kingdom very close to the Arabian sea, lived a girl in her 20s. She was home after 4 years of living independently, it was time for some good ol’ home food. She was fond of cooking things that only she would love (That way she didn’t have to share it with anyone). She had a helping hand, who would keep all the necessary ingredients cut and ready. As the grand cooking began she realised how much she had missed this…last year if she had to cook some chicken she was sure to find rats and cockroaches waiting for their share right beside her on the kitchen slab. But not here. Here was home, the most cleanest place there is and where ingredients were magically present and dishes were not to be worried about.

Everything was going perfectly, a packet of chilly flakes was half poured into the preparation- “Hah! Nothing is too spicy for me, these chilly flakes are never spicy enough”. Soon enough the entire castle seemed to have teary eyes and a cough fit. The chicken was prepared and it was amazingly hot. “Of course, the spice could be tamed” thought the little Chef. An entire jar of cheese and a tin of cream later, the preparation looked amazingly mouthwatering. Note: Cream cheese and fresh cream is the secret to mouthgasming food. The girl quietly took some of it and ran to her chambers to enjoy her work of art. As soon as she took a bite of what seemed like heaven, hell broke loose on her tongue. You may never know the feeling…but I’m going to try my best and describe it to you. It’s like your tongue suddenly catches fire, while your cheek seems to be adding kerosene to it and your throat seems to be closing up on you. Immediately a bottle of cold water was emptied into her mouth in order to extinguish the fire. Once the burning sensation died, she had to admit the chicken was tasty as hell! She could put it between bread and enjoy it, or mix it with pasta…but the rebel in her just couldn’t let that happen, as that would somehow diminish the fiery taste to it. She sat there day after day eating a small portion of her heavenly hellish preparation. It was the best dish she ever made, the taste so enticing that she kept wanting to sneakily munch on it even at 3 in the morning. But it was too hot. In the end, after endless hours on the pot and swearing to God as to never adding chilly to anything, it made the girl wonder. A lesson had been learnt…every story has a moral right?

Well here was the girl’s a.k.a mine: Shit happens, you might as well enjoy what you can, while you can.

I would also like to add a little bit of genius advise my dad had given my mum a few years back. If a person is picky with their food, let them cook it. No matter how shitty it is, they will enjoy their own work of art. Always. Stands true to me and if you know me, Im the pickiest picky of them pickys. So from one picky to another, explore the joy of creating a dish, I’ve realised that it’s very accomplishing!

One Day.

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That quote right there. It can be a fancy quote for some, a mobile wallpaper of a sobo friend, a poster to stick at work, a motto for teenage girls…for me; That’s inspiration.

I remember when I went for a family holiday to Europe. It was a package trip and the last stop was France. My parents had saved every penny possible for this dream to come true – something I never understood at that point. I’d look out of the moving bus at the wide green fields and the crystal blue rivers, kids don’t enjoy this much and so, neither did I and well I slept through most of the trip (Boy do I regret it now). But when we reached Paris, I just knew I HAD TO RE-VISIT THIS CITY MORE THAN ONCE!

From being the fashion capital to having the perfect weather, to the beautiful roads and the amazing atmosphere I FRIKKIN LOVED PARIS. When I went to the Louvre, every painting had a story to tell, when I came across the Eiffel Tower – I instantly felt a pang of romance in my system, from the tiny coffee shops to the gorgeous looking people – the city was perfect. Something made me want to stay longer, sit at a cafe – write my journal while sipping on Hot White Cocoa or just walk around the city and inhale the culture if that was possible. No other city had ever rubbed off on me as such…I’d like to think of it as that guy you had a giant crush on and never really got to know well, you always wish to bump into him so that you can soak up some more of that hot stuff.

Having felt all these bizarre emotions, this quote inspires me because someday I’d like to see this post, pack my bags and leave for Paris. These struggles, ambition, sacrifices…everything is to enjoy the luxury of wanting to travel to a city that makes you want to fall in love with it over and over again. You know what? Someday I will, and that someday I’ll probably write another blog post sitting at a cute cafe, sipping on some Hot White Cocoa…wonder what I’d write about?

Maybe the wanderlust to fly off to another foreign land…and fall in love with it just as much as Paris.

Au Revoir

The Class Cutie

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “It’s Friday, I’m in Love.”

It’s a good thing I had the habit of maintaining a journal, that way my friends and I can remember the excruciating details of our first crush back in school.

Back in the day when mum tied my hair into pretty little chotis *sigh*, Kaajal was supposed to be for Highschool girls, socks were to reach up till your knee if possible, and being chubby meant being cute, obviously meant that getting a guy to like you was not really a walk in the park, especially if he is your *CRUSH*. I remember it so well, he had walked into the class – Lean, tall, fair, big eyes and a great side smile. He was Teenage Ken in the world where we yearned to be Barbies. Normally during lunch hours girls would gawk at him, oh but I wouldn’t…”Aint nobody got the time for that” I said, but only if they could read my thoughts. In my head, I was with Teenage Ken. He used to worship me and treat me like THE ONE. I used to bake him cupcakes and he would buy me flowers. He would sing and dance for me like Shahrukh Khan did back then and I would blush away. He would sing, dance, write, draw, play, save the earth, beat Superman, was secretly Batman and possibly everything perfect…of course all in my head. But little did I now, wooing a guy was going to be SO DIFFICULT.

I remember developing a keen interest towards Pokemon since he played it so much! I bought a Gameboy Advance, Red, yellow, blue, green version cartridges, trading cards and read up on them all. That’s when we had a common ground to communicate. Yes, Pokemon was the basis of the real life relationship that we shared.

Teachers would like me a lot, I liked to be organised and they were well, in need of some organisation…so the classroom romance would bloom in ways you’d never believe. Distributing notebook buddy, lunch buddy, Pokemon buddy and oh the classic…when you’re the monitor of the class and are asked to write the names of the boys talking in class – Write Teenage Ken’s name and then erase it right before the teacher arrives – Little excitement and mischief always tends to work…doesn’t it?

Although first crushes are remembered only for those little butterfly-ish effect in your baby fat filled tummy, it’s a short lived experience, for most of us. I invited Teenage Ken for my birthday party and he gifted me a book, it was all awwww till I found out he previously owned the book and gave it to me as a recycled gift.

Sadness filled my soul, and then his parents decide to move. More sadness filled my soul. WHO will I look at when I don’t understand jack in math class? Then the time comes when he leaves. Soon, he grows up to become an investment banker with a hot girlfriend.

And you thought this was going to have a happy ending?

Hah just kidding, you grow up to be a sexy badass who finally becomes a billionaire. Woo Hoo!

The End