Shove your feelings, up your @&#

Tuesday, February 21, 2017


If I had a Euro for each time I heard a client say, "फ़ील नहीं आ रही ", I'd have enough to quit my job and relocate to Berlin (Mia tells me it's her favourite city).

It's been over five months in publishing and I've largely worked on projects which are commissioned by corporate/government institutions. Which means, I know a thing or two about client servicing, publishing, and negotiating. If I have to summarize all that I've learnt, I can easily state that their फ़ील pretty much pays for all the crap I buy every month. The deep fried gluten that I consume is paid for by these mofos client. They are the reason I'm fat and I have to photoshop my double chin out of the images. It's amazing what technology can do, it can make you look three sizes smaller. Nothing makes me happier than a photo-editing app. I guess this is why I'm employed to deal with photographs. I digress.

In a meeting today, with the folks who commissioned a major project (in form of a coffee table book) to celebrate the centenary of a governmental body, the folks reiterated how we need to re-work the text because they weren't फ़ीलिंग it.



The thing with फ़ीलिंग is that it's largely one-sided. I could have a फ़ीलिंग that makes me want to shoot (not the kind that you can manage with the camera) some of the people I work with. But, it's also wrong on my part to expect them to फ़ील the same (however, I think some of the people I work with may just फ़ील that). Similarly, to expect one to reproduce what your cranny brain imagined during your morning ablutions is to really kill the semblance of joy in an individual who is trying to survive the creative comatose.

When I step into work, the least bit of happiness I consume/intake is from the work I do. Every email I send, every link I click and every image I download, I fucking enjoy that. It's like watching every bit of twenty-five long years transpose into these clicks and words. Sure, the haughty, asshole part of me feels like a piece of shit when I am expected to do things which no-entry level employee will take, yet, it's something I take pride in. For someone who's at the rock bottom of confidence (since academia, filmmaking, and writing didn't work out), this process of getting every click right is exceedingly inspiring.

So when the client walks in like Ke$ha inside the office/gives a phone call/writes a stinker- and in process, gets my name wrong, cuts me midway and expects me to re-work crap that can help them फ़ील better, I cannot comprehend.

Here's a tip, for all you senior associates at work. If you're coming down to a publishing house, a filmmaker, photographer, an advertising firm, be crystal clear as to what you want. If you want Yeezy season 5 trainers, then say so. If you'd like noodles as your samosa फिलिंग, then bloody well say so. Don't expect us to sniff your samosa, ass or wherever it is you fart those words about and expect me to comprehend your feelings. You're NOT my Tinder date and you're definitely not my SO that I'll spend my working hour imagining your फ़ीलिंग to translate into my/photographer/author's work.

If you have a lot of फ़ीलिंग, then please feel free to stream Black Eyed Peas or whatever it is that the cool kids hear. Please spare me your convoluted फील्स.


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