Inside, outside

Over the past few months a lot has been done in our apartment – tiling, polishing, painting, woodwork, refurbishment and much more. And in the process, I found myself going back in time a little, to when I was not just younger, but far more enthusiastic about doing this, that, the other and a good deal that was fun and adrenaline-pumping. One of these myriad assignments was as text editor for a plush lifestyle magazine. It was actually all about large and very luxurious homes, with a bit of personality of the owner thrown it for interest. It was a fun assignment and taught me that a lot of editorial work is make-believe.

And then it grew, rather out of control. It all began with the biannual magazine, but ended with a very large, heavy and – giggle – “authoritative” book. Sponsored by a former cricket player turned businessman, it had big names attached, from Mont Blanc to Baccarat to Burberry and everything from the design to the tone of the writing had to match. The primary reason for the volume was to use the enormous collection of very nice images that the magazine had accumulated over the years, which were mouldering in the stores after being paid for, at exorbitant rates. So the book was conceived, the plan formulated and the begging began.

It was not easy to put together. The publisher wanted Names to write it, from the introduction to the end-note. Letters and faxes were sent out, phone calls were made, lunches were hosted, tea was poured and yours truly decided to do a bunk until stuff was available for me to work on. But when I got back a long while later, having been happily and conveniently out of India and determinedly out of touch, I found that there was total chaos. No writing had been done, because none of the desired writers had agreed to do their bit. And we had an oversized dummy, an oversized ambitious streak and an oversized wish-list, but an undersized budget, an undersized deadline and a sadly undersized body of evidence from which to find inspiration.

Nevertheless, we soldiered on. The managing editor and the publisher were sure the project would happen, on time and in place and, while they argued, I wandered around the shops around the building in a happy haze of retail therapy. Finally, the decision was taken, after much cogitation and campism. A reluctant participant, I would run away whenever I could, being completely uncooperative and obstreperous, and would be found in the nearest bookstore or shoe shop, only to be dragged back to the office, not quite kicking and screaming, but protesting wildly all the while. A stern lecture from the inner self later, I sat down with the team to chalk out just how it would be done.

And it was a masterpiece of time management. I was working full time and had only the odd weekend to spare. My managing editor was a busy woman herself, but very firm about keeping my button nose to the grindstone. And once I had pinned my own self down to work, that’s exactly what I did. The book was divided into chapters and took very little time to actually write. The boss took on a little, a little more was farmed out to people who said they knew how and the rest was left to my imagination. Which took on its serious avatar and set to finish the job the best it could.

It was not a complicated book. What we did was do a walkthrough of a home, from the walkway to the bathroom, taking in the foyer, the living and dining areas and the bedrooms on the way. Somewhere along the way we filled in the bits and pieces that go into creating a home from a house, and used details in the photographs we had to add interest. And, while some words became favourites (patina, finish, lush and more), on the whole it was a well designed, well written, well executed product that I still see in bookstores in various parts of the country. And, even as the kudos did collect and the celebrations happily fizzed though the social scene, we knew we had a product that we could and would be proud of, glitches and all.

But only we knew how it all really came together – and that’s our little secret!