Mandate - - Contents -

Three years, can be put in two ways. A mere three years, or the three in­cred­i­ble years (punches in the air). Par­don my drama, but the jour­ney de­mands it. The con­sis­tent gusto, the tip­ping zeal and the tricky mix of swag­ger and style wasn’t easy to main­tain. But when did Man­date take it easy? Month af­ter month, cover af­ter cover, con­cept af­ter con­cept, we tried to outdo our last per­for­mance. And in the process, we had fun too. Re­lent­less fol­low-ups were matched by hard­core par­ty­ing. The long shoots were com­pen­sated by Old Monk, straightup. The late night shifts paved way for team bond­ing. And though some­times the ten­sion to com­ply with pack­ing dates was thick enough to cut with a knife, abrupt con­ver­sa­tions of wit, hu­mour and Man’s Date helped our cause.

In the in­terim, a lot tran­spired back­stage. One of us en­tered the bliss of mat­ri­mony, one sported a beard, shaved it and got it back again, and one went on a diet, lost those ex­tra pounds, and well...earned them back again. Not to for­get, my friv­o­lous hair dos! Mov­ing on, our af­fa­ble art direc­tor re­tired to a warm farewell. And phys­i­cally too, we were trans­ported south: from sev­enth to third floor in the same build­ing, for the man­age­ment de­cided to con­vert our cushy space into a five- star lounge. How­ever, in the midst of the reshuf­fle, one per­son­al­ity re­mained in­tact. Nari Hira, Magna Pub­lish­ing’s CMD, stayed calm, gave us a rocket when nec­es­sary, joked with us (and mostly on us), to keep us on our toes.

And now as we set our­selves for a gi­ant leap, we hope Man­date finds its way into swanky shelves, ea­ger hands and cu­ri­ous minds. And ev­ery time it does, all of what is writ­ten above will make more sense.

Till then…

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