Arna Jharna Desert Museum Informative Plaques
My Role: While the museum interiors were well curated, an entire sequence of plaques were created to guide the visitor around the museum; highlighting the surroundings in a way that helped them appreciate the exhibits and efforts better.
EON LED TVC Script: Mrs Batti
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Video
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Ek madam thi Mrs
Batti
Har chiz thi unki
chamakti
Ghar bhi unka tha
CFL se roshan
Suddenly kahani
ne liya turn
Colony mein ayi Mrs
Shine
Lekar LED Lights
Savings bhi inki
thi zyada
Lights inki extra
bright
CFL padh gayi
phiki
Mrs Batti hui Gulbatti
Tab samajh mein
aya its time to move on
Chodo purani CFL
Shine with EON
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The film opens on
a flashy pompous lady. She is shown talking on phone. A sparkle flashes out
of her ring and then her blingy phone cover. The camera zooms out to show a
window and further zooms to exterior of his home. The home looks well lighted
up.
Suddenly the
camera pans to a neighboring house which looks brighter. Mrs. Batti comes out
of the front door looking displeased at how the other house is brighter than
his.
The camera zooms
into the brighter house and pauses at a beautiful lady switching on the EON
LED bulb.
Suddenly a wad of
cash appears in her hands and she smiles in surprise.
The camera pans
sideways to exterior of the house.
Stops at Mrs. Batti looking through binoculars towards the brighter
home. She frowns in despair as her house lloks dimmer. The front door
nameplate has a Gul scribbled before Batti to read as Gulbatti
Cut to interior
of the house where Mrs Batti installs an EON LED light and waves to Mrs
Roshni across windows.
The camera pans
across room to the dustbin in which are the old CFL Bulbs dumped away.
The Screen blurs.
EON Logo appears with tagline “Energizing Smiles”
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Kamdhenu Paints TVC Script: Ghar ki Raunak Barkaraar
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Video
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VO: Kapoor ji ka ghar
Inki biwi ko har 3-4 mahine
mein bhoot sawar hota hai
Idhar ki chize udhar, udhar ki
idhar
Koi shrimati ji ko samjhaye
ke iss uthal puthal se ghar toh
badlega nahi…
Ab dekho buzurg toh chale
gaye…apni nishani chhod gaye…deewaron par
Aur sofa bhi aisa jo apni
chaap chode bina nahi manta
Jo tubelight ghar ko chamkaati
thi wo bhi chpke se dhul jama kar rahi thi.
Bas ek jagah hai jispe is
uthal puthal ka koi asar nahi
Kapoor ji ke chehre par…kyunki
inke ghar mein lage hain Kamdhenu Sheen and Shine ke behtareen rang
Daag kaise bhi hon, jitna bhi
kapda maro, deewaron ki raunak kabhi kam nahi hoti.
Toh ab Shrimati ka bhoot jab
marzi jaage…
Kapoor ji apni chai ki chuskiyon mein mast rehte hain
Kamdhenu Sheen and Shine
Paints
Ghar ki raunak barkaraar.
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The film opens on a living room couch where a couple is sitting.
The lady suddenly gets up and ties her dupatta around the waist as if
on a mission.
In a blink the arrangement of the house changes altogether. The lady
doesn’t seem to be impressed and the arrangement flips to another.
The camera moves to the man and his son sitting together on couch and
suddenly pans up on the wall behind where the frame disappears leaving behind
a silhouette on the wall.
Cut to the father son duo shifting the couch as the lady looks over
and what remains is a mark on the wall showing where the couch was.
Cut to a tubelight on another wall which disappears leaving behind a
line of accumulated dust.
The camera suddenly cuts to the closeup of Kapoor’s face zooming into
the forehead. There’s no sign of stress there.
Cut to a hand wiping off the stains from the wall.
Cut back to the couple sitting on the couch and having tea. The wife
again looks around and then looks at her husband. Knowingly he smiles and approves. The wife
victoriously stands up for another round of rearrangement. The camera pans back to the husband sipping
away his tea stress-free. The rest of the screen blurs to show cans of
Kamdhenu Sheen and Shine with the tagline.
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Best of my Blogs: In the Dark (Fiction)
I sat terrified in my pitch dark room. They were approaching. I could hear their echoes in the hallway. They wanted to take me away from my room; my hiding place, the only place I felt safe in. I couldn’t let them do that. I locked the door. But the latch it refused to move… The footsteps kept coming closer. Godammit the latch was stuck. Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to cry for help but couldn’t risk them discovering me here! Even the strongest of my prayers didn’t make the latch move. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling! Then the voice came, “Tina… are you there?” It pierced me through the darkness of the room. My greatest fear now stood across the door.
I shuddered to the core. My mind seemed to have lost all sense of judgment. They kept on calling my name. Then the door started thumping. I could feel the pain rising in my temples… I could feel it thumping on my head like a hammer… I could feel sweat and goosebumps all over me…I could feel tears blurring my vision. I could feel the pain getting the better of me… only to grow more intense, more killing, more thumping than ever. I shouted for mercy but the assaults did not stop.
I couldn’t believe my mom and dad doing this. Why did they not listen to my pleas for mercy. I was shouting like a maniac looking for a place to hide… to shut off the thumping. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get my dose right now. I rummaged my wardrobe, toppled the drawers, searched below the pillow, the sheets, the bed. I didn’t care. I needed the rush. Every second that passed made it even more difficult to bear the pain, to breath, to stand. To top it the thumping and calling continued.
Windows… Oh my God the windows were not closed? I ran to shut the windows. Double checked the latch and tied the curtain around the handles so there was no chance for even God to sneak through. The Hell had not yet ended… it kept sinking deeper and deeper. The room seemed to get darker and darker, scarier and suffocating. My heat seemed to be bursting out of my chest. I felt like dying.
I gave it a final try reaching my hand below the bed. Finally after what seemed to be ages my hand felt a glass bottle. I shrieked as if I’d found elixir. With hands which were now trembling like a half dead fish I found a syringe feeling my hand through the pile of things I’d thrown from the wardrobe, pulled out the magic liquid from the bottle and pierced it through my skin.
I’m not sure if that helped. I curled up into a bundle on the floor, shut my eyes and pressed my hands hard on my ears to block the thumping and shouts coming from outside the door. I don’t even remember when I passed off.
As I woke up this morning, It took me some time to realize that I was alive. I had felt death coming to me that night. For once I was happy to believe I was dead the simplest way I had give a permanent end to the hell and pain I had gone through. A permanent end to my problems. A permanent end to me.
Today at age 18 I’m in a drug rehab institute going over a similar hell every day. But had my parents not got me here that day I wouldn’t have survived to the hope of a normal sane existence that awaits me beyond getting over my addiction of the hell named heroin.
Chief Electoral Officer, Delhi: Ungli Uthao
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