In the first season,

18: 01: 2012

Haunted 3G

I recently moved to Dubai. One of the first things that people do when they move to Dubai is buy some really cool gadgets, things that they had only been hearing, reading and watching videos about, till date.

My husband bought a Mac, a Nikon, and a Bose. I just looked around: grey, white and black boxes, and a bunch of figures to describe them. I am what you may tag as ‘technologically challenged’. Gizmos are to me, what poetry is to Stephen Hawking.

“May I help you ma’am?”

Yeah, can you please show me the way to a garden? I thought.

“Yeah, can you please show me the way to the Apple counter?” I asked, instead. I loved their TVC, but not for its rational contents:

‘If you don’t have an iPhone, well, you don’t have an iPhone’, it said and left me wondering, “Wow, what a way to say – me, best!”

And so, I just repeated a name from the last commercial that left an echo in my mind.

“You want an iPhone?” I heard a voice from behind. The voice of a five year old, who has just robbed a toy store.

I turned around to look at the happy man holding the Mac, Nikon, and Bose bags.

“I don’t know, baby.” I replied, and started following the store assistant.

“Take one. You’ll love it!”

“Why?” I asked. Yes, I did ask.

“Why? It’s an Apple!” His face looked like I had just asked what two and two summed up to.

And this was another thing I could never understand. The adjectives in this part of the mall were either the non-decipherable - 3G, 640 x 960 P, 512 MB something-something or simply, ‘Apple’.

I maintained the ‘why’ expression, so he gave another try.

“It’s a phone, a library and a music player in one.”

“Oh. Nice!” I said, and he giggled.

So, now I had my iPhone, loaded with my favourite music - my best friend when my husband was touring.

One day, when I got bored of my house, I decided to take a stroll at the lakes below my building. I plugged in the new earphones and set my playlist on shuffle.

“Tum itna jo muskara rahe ho…” I hummed along as I walked towards the staircase that took me to the lakes.

“Tum itna jo… kehi deep jale kehi dil…” something happened. The song changed, suddenly. I stopped, pulled the iPhone out of my pocked and checked. Yep, it had jumped a few songs. I dismissed it as my incompetency to handle the new appliance. I might have tapped on something while walking. So, I resumed my walk.

The phone was new, and so was the experience to walk along the lakes. The next day, at around the same time in the evening, I went down. Today, I felt like listening to soft rock…

“You took me right, out of the blue… tu jaha, jaha rahega, mera saaya...” It changed again! Exactly where it had changed yesterday - at the stairs that led me to the lakes. I froze, looked around. The beautiful palm trees that dotted the Lakes Walk looked creepy in their shadows across the glass buildings. And they appeared to be swinging completely in synchrony with the song. I dismissed the thought again, though not so convincingly this time, and walked on.

By the time I was back from the walk I had forgotten all about it. And the next day when I did remember it, I was convinced that it was just a play of my mind.

Today, again I started for the walk. The thought was there, but wasn’t really bothering me, till the time I stepped out of my building. I was purposely listening to a mindless, peppy number.

“Munni badnaam hui darling… Gumnaam hai koi…” It happened. Right where it had happened before - on the stairway. This wasn’t funny. But what was it? I looked around. The same tall shadows danced on a tune that only I could hear.

I thought for a moment. This was too much of a coincidence. If I was pressing a key by mistake, how can I be doing so again and again at the same precise point? What is it on this staircase?

I had laughed with my friends while watching Exorcist. But this was beginning to scare me.

I looked around, again. People went by their normal lives. No one seemed to be affected by any supernatural force. I didn’t feel like going any further. But I didn’t feel like going back home either. I was alone at home. There was still one more day to go before my husband returned. And I was scared to be alone.

I decided to continue, put on another peppy number and try to forget, just as the other two days. I was sure it wouldn’t happen beside the lakes, but only at the staircase. I changed the song and started walking. But the thought never left my mind this time.

I returned home after a short walk and watched a few comic videos before sleeping. The next day I decided to visit a friend, rather than spend the evening alone.

Hubby returned early next morning and the first thing I wanted to tell him was this. But I waited. I knew he would only laugh, but I still wanted to give him enough time to settle down.

“I gotta tell you something.” I said, as soon as I saw comfort on his face.

“What happened, baby?” He must have known from the way my voice sounded that it was serious.

I narrated the incidents, and told him my fears. He stared at me for a while, then asked for my iPhone.

He played around with a few touches and gave it back to me. “It won’t haunt you any more.” He declared.

“What was haunting? How did you…? What did you…?”

“Shhhhh. You had your Shake Control turned on your phone. Every time you climbed down the stairs, it shook in your pocket and changed the song. I’ve turned it off now.”

“Oh.”

I HAVE NOTHING TO PROVE

THAT I AM A GOOD COPYWRITER. I do not have my hair dyed in streaks. I do not wear orange spectacles. I do not even accessorise myself from top to bottom. I do not have body piercing. Oh, wait! I do. But it’s just pierced ears. I guess that doesn’t really qualify. I do not smoke. I do not like tea. Or coffee. I am not an insomniac. I can’t keep a goatee, no matter how much I try. I listen to comprehensible music. I socialise. I make friends with engineers and doctors. I send flowers to my mother on Mothers Day. My sister likes to talk to me. My building’s watchman recognises me. Even the morning one. I do not carry my toiletries in my bag all the time. I eat my meals on time. I talk sense most of the time.

BUT I AM HELPLESS.

The bug gave me the disease, without its symptoms. And so here I am doing what I am best at. Writing to sell. Only this time the product is a little tricky. It’s me. And even though it has everything that your agency needs – a brain that ideates, and does it well, good writing skills, command over the language, understanding of the subject and the target audience, experience, qualifications, and an impressive portfolio – it still needs to prove itself to you. So let’s take the usual route. The one that every advertisement takes. By telling its customer where the wonderful product came from.

If I were a cosmetic cream, I would have come from the purest species of the Aloe Vera or a rare herb found somewhere in the Himalayas. But I am just a human, coming from an ordinary middle-class household, where television occupies an important position in the family, especially during meal times. So, here I was, watching my favourite daily soap, dreading that the great suspense that is building around the protagonist will be broken anytime by an untimely commercial break.

It was then, in between great suspense and irritation, that I first saw it. The Fevicol TVC. The one that went “pakde rehna… chhorna nehi”. Hilarious! I laughed. I clapped. And I forgot all about my daily soap. That was the day I had told my mother, “Ma, when I grow up, I’ll make ads.” She had laughed.

It was only in my first year, college, that I learnt who a copywriter is. That year itself, I took up a summer job in a local ad agency. Just to get the feel of it. And before I knew it, I was hired by the best design studio in the city, even before I completed my final year exams.

My mother doesn’t laugh anymore. She just smiles, when she sees my ad in the newspaper or drives past a hoarding I worked on. Because she knows I am good. And the fact that you just read this whole chunk of copy in full proves just that.

PS: Written for one of my interviewers, while job-hunting.

Time for a Social Break!

Aren't you tired of the bombardment of brands in between your favourite movies and programmes? Aren't you sick of newspapers yapping about their products, services and features, instead of telling you about the government's new policies?

How many times did you have Kit Kat when you wanted to take a break? How many times did you tell the shopkeeper to get you ONLY Pepsi and nothing else, because your favourite star drinks it too! Don't you feel like hiding your face in your mom's dupatta when Shahrukh tells you that 'navratna tel' is thanda thanda cool cool? Gawd! I do!

Advertising is my bread and butter.

And whatever I just said is really not taking my career graph anywhere. But the truth it, we watch ads, "wow" them and forget them. We may love to discuss, recite or narrate the good ones, but hello! I've never bought a happy dent in my life!

So what really are ads doing there? BASICALLY, just reminding us of a name. A name that hopes to get implanted in our minds (or hearts) when given a choice, we recall it.

So instead of going round and round a product and boasting of its 'unique' features (generally possessed by all competitors), can they not just say something more meaningful? Something bigger, something that will ACTUALLY make a difference to our lives? Will that not look like a genuine effort to give us something we need?

And when such an effort is made by a name, a brand, as we put it, will this effort not have a greater impact in our heads and hearts? And guess what, here, the LAST thing that companies will need to worry about is their 'image'.

We've got the power!

Ads are powerful, in the sense that they've got the power of money and ideas. And there was a time when they used to make a lot of difference to people's lives. But not anymore! Now they are repetitive, not in their presentation, but in their messages. Before an ad begins, we know that we'll basically be asked to shell out money to buy a product we may not need.

Why not use this power for a greater cause? Channel it in a way that's for the betterment of the people. Something that this world (ok, too dramatic but maybe at least our country) really needs!

Go social!

Till date social ads have been made either under a government order or to win the race at an awards night! Of course, of course, there have been some genuine efforts made by companies to address some problems... but when was SOME enough in this big-bad world?

After listening to or watching one or two great ads or glancing at a few brilliant hoarding, no one's gained the sense to wear the helmet.

Remember the hypodermic needle theory?

Inject the messages in the hearts and veins of the people! Apply your brilliant minds in gripping the people so strongly that they actually feel the guilt and picture the consequence, every time they throw a wrapper on the road.

Get serious!

Every social message has a TG. Ever observed their demographics? Ever studied their psychology? Ever thought BEYOND a brilliant idea? Ever thought whether it will really work? Has they ever worked? Why? Why not? Maybe because they have never been taken seriously enough!

Ads have always been irritating.

Good or bad, they have always intruded in our leisure time! But good ads still leave their imprints behind. People still remember their messages. And in this case, the audience will have a greater reason to follow your suggestions or their favourite personality's recommendations because you are NOT asking for their money. You're asking for their discretion and sensibility. And that is one thing in which everyone's willing to prove they're superior.

Entertainment is the best way of educating.

The youth will get cool not by flashing their latest cell phones, but by NOT using them while driving. Mom's will take care of their kids not by feeding them "calcium-rich-biscuits" but by talking to them about AIDS. And this can all be said with a short entertaining script. A lesson goes down best when the student is not quite aware of the act of teaching.

But where is the brand?

Right behind the message! Give enough time and space to the promoter. Big and long enough to be associated with that message. And bang! The advertisement's job it's done! You're famous and you're a bunch of honest messages! The more effective your message, the bigger your image in the audience's mind! If someone's benefited from your message, even outside your product's TG he'll come back to you, when he needs you!