Discovering The "Brand Equity" Of My Butt!

Being an MBA student, my affection for jargon has been carefully engineered into me...the term "Brand Equity" is among the sexiest that I've come across. It's like the "Marlon Brando" of marketing jargon. Despite all this, I always struggled to convey to the un-initiated it's true meaning.

Midnight yesterday/today I had "material proof" of BRAND EQUITY. It was all over my...errr...ASS!

See...traditionally, birthday is meant to be the day to enjoy and feel good about the consequence of an "accident" that took place years ago. 25 yrs to be precise in my case! The way it starts is amazing actually. Around 11:30 PM your close friends start asking for your whereabouts to make sure that you are somewhere close to your room. I was strolling about in the campus so I was summoned to the room. Immidiately! I complied. I had no choice. Then all my friends...whoever passed me gave me "the look", the kinds 2 guys did way back in the wild wild west give to each other before a draw. It's something between a sneer and a nod. By now I am wondering if I should call my friend doing law to make a will for me. But I decide against it as all someone can inherit from me is my education loan! The bike would of course be "sati" with me!

So I reach my room. Like an efficient butler, my roomie takes my jacket and politely asks me to change into "expendable" clothes. I comply. Again. Its 11:50 PM now and there is quite a crowd outside my room. Everyone trying hard not to look into my eye...lest they see the fear in them and take pity. I look down at their choice of footwear and I start feeling for my butt already. There was wide assortment of Nike / Adidas / Gum Boots / CAT / Floaters / Kohlapuris / Osho Chappals / Hawai Chappal... They were well armed allright!

11:58 PM. I am gently asked to come into the corridor and then as the clock hits 12:00 a faint voice from behind shouts..."Maaaaro saale ko". And my closest friends forget that even something as seemingly dumb as a butt has nerve endings and it bloody does hurt! Like HELL! For the next 5-10mts it rains kicks. Suddenly there is a hush. People give way to 3-4 guys charging with buckets full of chilled cold water. SPLASH! SPLASH! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkkks! SPLASH! And I am left looking a poodle after a bath. Though in my case that was a rather well fed poodle. There is a again some activity in the background with frantic instructions being exchanged. What's next?

It didn't take that long to find out. My dear friends now had "stuff" in their palms. Any and everything from ketchup / toothpaste / Dabur Lal Dant Manjan (they esp. bought it for me) / etc. was meticulously applied on me. I was warned not to move or it might go in my eyes. How very considerate my friends were! I was left smelling like a damn burp! By now I was living by the age old saying, "When rape is inevitable...might as well enjoy it"! As they say in North India..."Aaan do..." (bring it on)!

I could now hear footsteps going away from me punctuated with "Happy Birthday Shishir". I couldn't see anything through the layers of toothpaste and ketchup on my face. I was glad they still remembered their main motive of coming to my room. My 25th birthday. I was wondering if it was over?!?!

There is God. It was over. My dear roomie guided me to the bathroom and shut the door on me. I turned on the shower and stood there for what seemed like an hour. I swear I had never felt so clean as I did last night. I had to feel that way...just look at the ingridients that went into my cleansing!

I dried myself and crashed on the bed. It took me a while to get into a position that wouldn't hurt my "multi-branded" butt. Then I began remembering something. Faces. Voices. Names. The perpetrators. The rest 364 days are mine! All I can say is to them is...R.I.P.

In the words of George W. Bush Jr. "We shall hunt 'em down and smoke 'em..."