The mad world of advertisements!

You know that feeling when you wake up with a throbbing pain in head; can’t focus on any work, read, sleep, talk to anyone or do anything that you would love to with luxury of time? And the only choice left is surrendering to the designs of this offensive universe that appears to be conspiring against you and much to your surprise, you end up watching the television or flip through pages of magazines looking at  the advertisements and feel furious for having wasted so much time! Well, yesterday was one such day.

No, I am not complaining about content of the programmes on television as I barely had patience to watch any for more than a few minutes but while trying to divert my attention from the pounding in head, I incessantly went on channel surfing and was amazed watching lots of advertisements that made me realize how despite having so many gifted brains in industry, having won so many national and international awards and recognition, most of the Indian advertisements are still so far removed from reality of its target audience! 

Advertisements are constant battles for occupying minds of consumers and converting them into buyers. Role of an advertisement is to portray product/service with its value propositions in such way that it caters to the needs or create new needs, aspiration for the target audience. Generally, in this process, the needs are magnified and advertisers play on aspirations of the consumers, subtly shaping their mind-set. Sadly, in a society that prefers to be defined by the brands it uses, where one’s social standing is judged by the lifestyle and the constant consumption, the impact of advertising is huge and is woven deeply with our daily lives. Obscene amount of money is spent on advertising but how relevant and effective are our ads really? 

In recent years, Indian advertising industry has given us some brilliant creative and effective ad campaigns but when one looks at the advertisements in general, its difficult to ignore the fact that the advertising world has not yet grasped the rapid pace with which the real world of its target audience is changing. Sadly, it is still stuck in stereotypes that have been used since decades. 

Seemingly, sensible girls lose their sanity and wrap themselves around a man just because they wear a certain brand of deodorant. A conventional Bengali woman gives in to the seduction, enchanted by irresistible fragrance of the deodorant worn by a hunk, amidst the huge family celebration.    

Young men flaunt their bikes and girls fall for them as obviously, there can't be anything more attractive than a guy with great bike!

Young girls aspiring for better social and professional prospects HAVE to have perfect skin colour (read fair), teeth, hair and make- up and how can I forget lingerie for the support, else they are doomed. 

Housewives/mothers, irrespective of their education and background have only one goal in life; to cook and serve food to the family 24/7. In fact, they are so committed to the cause that all they do in life is lead a very boring life which is reflected in the way they are dressed (if it is a mother above thirty, she HAS to tie her hair in high bun and wear specks)  

Today's smart kids know better than their educated parents! I am aware how kids influence buying decision in certain category of products but a young kid telling his uncle which insurance policy to buy, or telling his mother about nutritional value of certain food and daily dose of calcium? 

A cricket celebrity boasts about how to "patao" (woo) girls with use of certain mobile phone.

Men are always macho teenagers fashionably cool and the new generation young kids are Einstein reincarnate just because they are very comfortable with technology!

I can go on and on about the mindless advertisements. I believe, the acumen of advertising depends on being aware of times we are living and its context with the message of the brand.  Most of the ads portray stereotypes. Women are projected as sex symbols or epitome of virtue and morality! Men are always strong, protective and in control. I doubt, consumers can engage with ads/products that fail to strike a chord with its audience. There is nothing wrong in selling any products but there is a way to go about it. There is a very thin line between creative expression and sloppy, irresponsible job.

The people I see around me (and here I am referring to people from across all classes and categories) are smart, proud, responsible citizens of this country playing important role in society and contributing great deal. They know their minds well. And no, not all men are macho, teen-agers rebels and all children super intelligent. Women have mastered the art of finding balance between family and work, traditional and modern. They are absolutely clear about what they want and don’t shy away from it. Today’s woman knows about products and its value. She knows everything under the sun including which fragrance of condom she would prefer to be used and can say it without sounding sleazy. Its time Indian advertisers woke up to this reality and respect the fact that Indian consumers are not morons! 

The lonely Banyan tree

During my last visit to Baroda, I went to all the places that had emotional significance for me during my growing up years. And one of those places was a Banyan tree at the entrance of the society where I grew up. My head was brimming with lots of images and I tried to assemble and hang on to every impression that was buried in the form of happy childhood. A long, unending scroll of floating world opened up before my eyes and I could almost sense a lyrical stream running through it of poetry, of tenderness, above all of vismaya or that elevating sense of wonder that our scripts talk about; beautiful symphonies of birds chirping, fakirs playing upon harmonium on the side walk, a sadhu with grave face singing a bhajan and dancing at the temple, lovers in the shadow of a tree, goats standing on their hind legs for reaching out the lone leaves on a bush, the toy seller with his colourful clay toys and the garden where I learnt to catch ladybirds and butterflies! It is strange how some memories, associations tumble out inside your head, unasked, long after you return from some place.

The banyan tree was a special place for many reasons. It was outside the compound of the garden where I played endlessly with many friends. Its huge branches were spread between the main road and the compound wall of the garden, setting perfect demarcation for our safe world. The tree was a unique microcosm and beneath it was an equally fascinating world of a cobbler; a figure we were terribly afraid of but were drawn to nevertheless. He was  a great looking tall man about forty with divine smile of a loving grandparent and very intriguing personae. The only time we got to see him smile was when we tried to cross the compound during the play and he gently cajoled us to return to the garden. We knew that though he seemed to not notice us, he always had watchful eyes and was very protective of us. His hulking wife was always around, sitting on a small chair among the sorry residues scattered all around; the battered stove, the broken bed, one and a half chairs, a few utensils, the clock inlaid with mother of pearl that had stopped working at eleven minutes past four, a few decades back on a dead and forgotten time and date. 

There was something about the cobbler that fascinated us. We were very young to understand life but even at that innocent age we could feel the distress in his beautiful eyes. He was so used to rejection and disrespect that when people brushed past him or argued with him for the money or work he always appeared unaffected. The basic needs of his family were hardly met and yet he was always a giver in his own beautiful way. His inscrutable face, the shaggy brows beneath which his grey eyes glinted coldly had seen enough life perhaps. Squatting beside him sometimes were his three children with his wife, sitting together, eating meals without exchange of a single word. The sight used to be so divine that we would peep and often wonder how they looked so content despite hardly having much on the plate. The huge banyan tree with its massive central trunk and surrounding smaller trunks hung down to spread its roots but the cobbler was never dwarfed by the tree. 

Since I could not find the old man after these many years, the curiosity kept rattling around in my brain and knowing myself well, I thought of finding out. The cobbler was long gone with his family. There was nobody around to tell me about him. Everything around the tree had changed. The banyan tree had grown further spreading its branches but it was no more the same without the cobbler and his family beside it. Its plush surrounding robbed it of its character. New roads were built near the tree and the garden that I used to play at with my childhood friends was gobbled up by the new development. 

It is painful to notice landscapes get reduced to dust! Within trice, everything is gone. And all that is left is traces and smudges. The speed at which memories, images, dreams, impressions, relationships, associations, bonds vanish is overwhelming. Sometimes, in futile attempt, we try to hold on to them through our stories, photographs, art, crumpled, handwritten notes in small drawers at the corner table of the room and preserve them, keep them safe just as they were, even when everything around starts beginning to decay. As I stood under the banyan tree, the harried pace of life around it brought me out from memory lane. The place that once was serene had silently witnessed changed times. Surrounded by screeching screams of traffic on the road, faces dodging one another in deeply condensed lives, people moving into some unheard, unseen rhythm like a controlled chaos, the Banyan tree looked precarious. There were no children, no butterflies or lady birds to catch, nobody to play at the swings made on its branches. The Banyan tree seemed lonely in its solitary confinement and when I left, I realized burden of time passed by in all these years.

Art attack !

As I write this, I am completely soaked in a great creative high! The Kala Ghoda Art Festival in Mumbai started last week and I visited it couple of times. An eagerly awaited event which is oasis of art, culture, creativity, innovation and entertainment; KGAF is a great refuge from a typical urban existence, a space that serves as pot-pourri of intellectualism, cultural trends and mind blowing artistic creations that nurture beautiful, vibrant energy and ignite magical marvel leaving one transformed, energized and profoundly inspired. The greatest reward of visiting KGAF is, one finds it compelling to visit new territories of mind's landscape that introduce new perspective about art and life in general. 

Here are some of the interesting installations that I came across at Kala Ghoda Art Festival, 2013. 

"Dhanda" , an installation by "Baaya Design" 

"Dhanda" in Hindi means business and the word defines quintessential metropolis of Mumbai, a financial capital of India, with its throbbing and pulsating energy of glamour and glitter of wealth. This installation is a brilliant juxtaposition between over ambitious skyscrapers and vicious cauldron of urban destitution.  

The mascot of the KGAF, made with card board 

"Cycle chalao, city bachao" an installation by Rajesh Nakar

In the times of ever increasing petrol and diesel prices and suffocating pollution that creates serious health issues, the installation, "Cycle chalao, city bachao" ( ride bicycle and save the city) depicts artist's concern about the choices we make in urban living and how it affects our health, environment and quality of life in general.

An installation titled,"Samyam (defensive war), by artist, Sachin Chaudhry 

The artist's message is very poignant and he conveys that like tortoise that pulls back its limbs into shell, it helps an individual to have control over his senses and intellect to restrain when needed and have stable mind that is derived from self-control.

"Tarevarchi Kasrat", installation by Sonal Jadhav and Nikhil Borhade

"Tarevarchi kasrat" when literally translated, means walking on the tight rope and striking balance. In this beautiful work, the artists suggest that the city of Mumbai is city of dreams, people from across the nation that migrate here, come with big dreams, hopes, aspirations, ambitions and expectations to "make it big" and in the process often end up trading them in exchange of something for the sake of survival. The subtle process ties them up forever and sometimes getting out of that invisible entice is impossible. Here, different colours of threads represent different emotions, aspirations and ambitions of Mumbaikars.

!00 years of Bollywood cinema 

"Queen's necklace" by Swapnil Pednekar 

The Tetra-pods, representing coast of Mumbai, not only protect the coast but are silent witness to many love struck couples who lack space and privacy. A few moments of seclusion and privacy around these Tetra-pods are absolute necessity in this city where every single inch of the land is priced insanely, much beyond a common man's reach. Many a worlds are built on the basis of a few intimate, private moments near sea beach. Hence the tagline of this installation aptly says, "When you come here, all you see is love." 

"Sapno ka Number" By Shailesh Rathod 

The city of big opportunities, where any insane dream has possibility of materializing, the city of Mumbai is the muse for many insatiable quests for fulfillment of dreams no matter how unrealistic, crazy, selfish, greedy or audacious the dream, the city provides space to fulfill it. 

"The Dabbawala" ( the tiffin carriers)

Life in Mumbai is impossible to imagine without these "dabbawalas", an absolute "must" for middle class working people, they are interesting case for study in management schools.  

Stirring memories

I am back from Baroda and as I write this, am looking at few things, arranged neatly on the table near me. Old photographs, an intricately carved and beautifully designed German silver tea set, exclusive silver utensils used only during festivals or birthdays, a Reader's Digest atlas that was gifted to me on my birthday with beautifully written note from my father in his artistic handwriting, antique, brass and copper utensils used for puja, a thick volume of The Bhagwat Gita, a stunningly beautiful Saree of a rare weave that my father bought from Assam for my mother (an art collector's item), a few old vinyl records of maestros of Indian classical music, woollen shawls ....etc.

I have got these things with me from my parents' home after fulfilling responsibility of division of their wealth as per their wish. The experience is life changing and has taught me profound lessons about relationships, human nature and life in general.

The most painful part in this entire experience was vacating my parent's home for the new occupant. Cleaning out my parents' wardrobes, going through their personal belongings, checking every little thing in the house before distributing or giving it away to charity brought back acute sense of loss. I went through surge of mixed emotions of virtue, satisfaction, respect, realization, grace, patience, forgiveness, joy, sorrow, shame, rudeness and wrath.

I missed my mother asking me for scalp massage with hair oil. I missed her wanting to feed me endlessly and cooking elaborate meals despite her failing health. I missed her telling me about a new book she had read and the house being specially cleaned and made all the more presentable before my arrival. I missed the guests who went on pouring without any prior phone call, endless nights spent with siblings, dozens of cousins, family friends and neighbours singing songs, laughing and making mad conversations, demanding food that was invariably prepared with great care about everyone's taste and was served with utmost love. I missed being dropped and picked up at railway stations during my visits to Baroda. I missed my father wanting to travel and me getting upset with him and advising him against it due to his health issues and he getting mad at me in return and banging the phone suddenly during our chat. I missed the daily conversations with my father over phone filled with love, concern and deep understanding. I missed those words that my parents never spoke, acceptance that they never gave for few things, the apology they never made, the affection that sometimes only I was entitled to receive, the missed conversations due to different wavelengths and getting on nerves of each other in spite of all the love and mutual respect. It is strange what all we miss when we lose our parents! I felt uneasiness at its zenith!

It is a painful experience to clear out house of our loved ones with whom the very core of our identity is attached! The void I felt in the house after everything was distributed or given was too much to deal with. A strange sense of loss engulfed me; and it felt as if I was throwing them away in bits and pieces. The sum total of their life lay before me in corrugated boxes waiting to be given away and that feeling gave me lump in throat.  I know my parents are with me in spirit and I don't need to keep them alive through any material thing. The experience however painful has helped me bring some closure and what matters is how I carry on with life with my late parents' blessings and evolve with every experience life throws at me and learn to take it in my stride with great élan just the way my father and mother did when they were alive. 

C'est la vie! 

The REAL women with substance

There are amazing people out there! I am sure you know some. Hopefully you are surrounded by many or run across them often. Do you know that feeling when by chance you stumble upon people who come out of nowhere and they surprise you with their spirit, kindness, talents, politeness, thoughtfulness, in short, by just being their true self and giving you something exceptionally fascinating that you are swept off your feet? Well, I had amazing experience of meeting some extraordinarily talented, gritty, stunningly beautiful women at handicrafts and handloom exhibition, Mahalaxmi Saras, Mumbai, two days ago.

Every time I meet people; specially, women from small villages, I realize how heart of entrepreneurship in India lies in small villages at grass-root level. Women entrepreneurs who work to provide essential products, services and solutions that help enhance not only local economy but empower them and their community with better opportunities to improve life. Most of the women I met at the exhibition are almost illiterate and yet they have such inspiring stories to share that I feel humbled.  Every woman I have acquainted in this article is immensely gifted, intelligent and phenomenally wonderful person! Let me introduce them to you. 

Rajubai Sitaram Jadhav from Vaijnath, Parli, a Banjara woman 

Don't make mistake of going by her looks. She might look primitive from a completely different era but once she is comfortable with you she will surprise you with her brilliant sense of humour, intelligence and shrewd business sense. Meet Rajubai Sitaram Jadhav from Vasant Nagar, Vaijnath, Parli. Age, no clue! She has very vibrant personae just like her clothes. Her bright red and pink attire can brighten up barren faces around her and one feels positive vibes that resonate instantly!

Rajubai with her creations at the stall 

Rajubai has undergone cataract surgeries and both her eyes are weak but she can't give up her craft of embroidery as she feels her creativity is what defines her truly. Ask her about education and she points her thumb horizontally at the table; a gesture that suggests "angoothachaap" (illiterate). When she explains need to understand colours and concept of contrast in craft like embroidery, one is tempted to think how she could give any fashion designer run for her money if only she was little trained professionally and educated! She will start a gig out of blue while conversing with you and the grace in her dance will completely surprise you. She supports a group of about twenty women from her village, trains them in her craft, helps them hone their skills, attends every possible exhibition and is a very smart sales person.   

Indubai Murlidhar Katare  from Shingve, Nashik

Indubai Murlidhar Katare from Shingve is a very dignified lady. From the moment you meet her, she commands respect. Extremely polite and soft spoken, she is "adhyaksha"(president) of the centre that sells organically grown black currents and resins. Her challenge was to learn basics of business from educated person. Now that its achieved, she also keeps busy with cleanliness drive, and has single handedly managed  to engage people from her village in  social service. Her drive against drinking and female infanticide has shown remarkable results. She proudly tells how you would never find a single person in her village sitting idly as everyone is happily engaged in contributing towards change. She has not gone to any business school but is a great example of true leader. Her open mind has helped women in her village get out of confines of four walls and be financially independent and socially aware. 

We never talk about leaders in nine yard sarees, do we?  

Kusherata Annarao Poyed from  Vardgaon, Nanded

Kusheratabai reminds you of your loving granny.  Behind her stark face is a woman whose heart is overflowing with love and care. She heads a committee in small group meant for women from her village that sells organically grown spices and pulses. If you show genuine interest in her, there are chances of you being treated to a delicious meal served with dollops of love while she talks passionately about her group, their work and the women she works with. She would not let you go without a warm hug and whisper something in your ear that is supposed to protect you from evil eye! By the time you say good bye to her, she would have touched your heart so deeply that your eyes will be moist.  

Shashikalabai Chalke from Tadhaatgaon, Jalna

Shashikalabai is thrilled to share details of how socio-economic dynamics of her community have changed after joining the group of weavers like her.  She promptly explains the process of obtaining raw material to production of woven products and enthusiastically displays process of  spinning on wheel. After joining the development programme which she had resented in the beginning she has become very confident of taking big orders. She has little difficulty in interacting in any language except Marathi but somehow manages to get her message across.   

Deolibai Sakharam Chavan from Naik Nagar, Murum 

The oldest of them all, Deolibai at age of 90, deserves to be awarded for being the most beautiful, vivacious and remarkably sharp participant at the exhibition. She takes time to open up and she means business. Once you have won her trust, she talks. And how! She shares amazing anecdotes from her life; about different times when India was under British rule, her young age,  her one big family with grandsons and great grandsons, challenges posed by modernization  for people like her, living in forests. She shows great concern about complex adjustments their traditional life is confronted with, ecological issues and most important passion of her life, her art. Her age is evident on her wrinkled body but when she talks, she sounds like a sixteen year young girl, deeply in love with life! Ask secret of her stunning beauty and her reply will be, "I don't stay idle for a second, lead a simple life amidst Nature and I play with the children of the house. There is nothing more I need from life." 

She curiously asks what I am going to do with so many pictures and the moment I explain I am going to write about her, she opens an album and shows me her photographs with ex-prime ministers of our country. Deolibai has a spark which is difficult to miss. A respected matriarchal figure in her group, she explains that to get work done from others is matter of tact. Her richly embroidered work is sought after by many customers and she attends every question with ease and patience.       

 

After meeting these wonderful women I feel what artisans like these women need is a little training in communication, language skills and market knowledge to connect to wider audience. What they have achieved despite their background is indeed commendable. My salute to all these extraordinary women for igniting such wonderful spirit within me. I am deeply honoured. Phenomenal women, you inspire me and touch my soul!