T20 still no match for good old cleavage

If I were to manufacture, say, biscuits, life wouldn’t have been much different. I’d have someone bake them, someone to deliver them to a shop, and someone, of course, to eat them. Then there would be that unexplainable need to advertise my product, and I’d have gone through an entire brochure of celebrities, frowning.

Unless, of course, if Chitrangada Singh volunteered. Imagine a completely undressed Chitrangada Singh, finishing off with some frantic lovemaking, then reaching out to the bedside table for a pack of biscuits, asking you to buy them at the earliest. Of course you’d buy them. If you didn’t, the product’s sales would drop. If sales drop, advertisement budgets would go down drastically. Inevitably, the clip would be pulled off air. And life would be boring again.

But if the captain of a cricket team suggested a certain brand of biscuits, would you really bother? You’ve hardly aspired to arrange for dinner with him, and neither are you very fond of the craters on his face.

Yet, somehow, MS Dhoni, captain of the Indian cricket team, signed an advertising contract, or something of the sort, worth an unbelievable Rs.210Cr. Why? I have often jumped to conclusions in the past, so this time I’m going to try my hand at deduction.

Men, with their ego shirts and self-esteem trousers, certainly don’t seem to give two hoots about what MSD eats. Score a ton, win matches, and we’re fine thank you. So men, certainly, are not the target audience in mind for MSD’s adverts. Children, perhaps? Well, yes, they are more vulnerable in this case. But I know that children too are not the target audience. You see, children will buy Pepsi regardless of who promotes it. Yes, there maybe some banter about the (stupidly long) advertisement, but that’s small talk. If the ad suggests drinking Pepsi will give you MSD’s batting skills, you would have also, by now, developed Preity Zinta’s breasts, and SRK’s wit.

But, and I’m getting somewhere here, you would then have also acquired the cricketing skills of Sachin Tendulkar (who has endorsed Pepsi for the longest time). So if I have Sachin Tendulkar’s skills, why would I now want the lesser ability to play cover drives, from MSD? To put it to context, if you had a sufficient bowlful of steaming mutton Biryani, you wouldn’t get up and walk away from the table, in search of Marie Gold biscuits, right?

That leaves me with the only remaining category of audiences - women. I do understand that MSD has a large female fan following in India. But, given an options list consisting of Salman Khan, Ranbir Kapoor and SRK, MSD doesn’t stand a chance of getting into bed with another woman.

Which only means one thing. Whoever signs MSD on to promote their product couldn’t afford to sign the above mentioned trio. Which means they have settled for fourth, or maybe fifth best. That, then, automatically becomes a reflection of the product itself. And a brand that makes ‘fifth best’ products should be spending Rs.210 Cr on making themselves better, not signing it off to a cricketer. And that’s common sense.

Get real Courtney, sweetie...

A sane man among the insane always appears mad. Bhagwaan Rajneesh, or Osho, as he was fondly known, often spoke these words. They originally came from Kahlil Gibran’s collection. And that lovely verse is most relevant today, than it has ever been. No, I haven’t turned philosopher. Not just yet. But Jitesh Pillaai needs a bit of food for thought, and I think I have more than a serving for him.

He twittered on Fool’s Day, stating I was dysfunctional, and treated himself to another handbag because I 'made him feel like a star’ through my blog. If calling people homosexuals with horrid jobs and miserable taste in clothing is making them feel like stars, I think i’m going to be making a lot of new friends this summer.

He had the good sense to end his twitt with a ‘must admit he’s damnfunny’, and then went sucking upto Shahid Kapoor for an interview.

Come on Jitesh! You picked Shireen Bhan as one of the top 50 beautiful women in India. If, after that, you think anyone with half a mind, apart from your fellow twitsies, is going to want to hear your take on anything, I will admit you have a fantastic sense of humour. I want to get this straight, because word play is too difficult for Jitesh to comprehend. You Sir, are the one who makes assumptions and are judgmental. Case in point: Kajol signing another movie thrills, while Tabu ‘threatens’. Fuck you, you know? And, Sir, I know of ten journos, none of whom will say the Honda Accord is promising, ballistic, and raving mad because it comes with a stack of weed shoved into the glove compartment by desperate PR chaps. How can you assume, publicly, in print, that Aditya Redij is a promising hotbod? Promising because? Answer that sweetie, or else I’m going to have to use the word ‘shag’.

I understand your admiration of Amitabh Bachchan, because it really cannot be mere lust for wealth behind his active schedule. But favouritism on the basis of one’s six-pack would be as horrible as you judging me by the colour of my bowels. My idols in the industry of motoring journos follow a strict evaluation method, sticking to honest reviews, and giving away awards only to the truly deserving ones. And they’re highly entertaining, while at it. Your famed 2010 Filmfare awards, you must note, mentioned nothing of Gulaal, one of the finest made films in the history of the industry. If our lot looked up to you for even a spot of inspiration, the Lamborghini Gallardo would win every award under the sun. And Marutis would never win the Car of the Year title.

Ours is an honest profession, Sir. It is an achievement of great magnitude, being published in print, with a byline to boot. Where you are, you have the power to do a lot. The authority to provide refreshing journalism, not actresses clad in Manish Malhotra with dull captions. How about starting with a half nude Chitrangada Singh on the cover, mate?