More Reviews of the Book

The Oops and Downs of Advertising

"Don't go away, we'll be right back" by Indu Balachandran, who spent 29 years in JWT, going from Copy Trainee in JWT Delhi to Executive Creative Director in JWT Chennai, launched earlier this month. Indu combines her insights and affection for the profession with the wit and satire of a humour columnist, and has us laughing all the way. The question as she rightly poses is, do crazy people join advertising or does advertising make people crazy?
Read about the launch here
http://www.adgully.com/media/print/indu-balachandrans-book-%E2%80%9Cdon%E2%80%99t-go-away-we%E2%80%99ll-be-right-back-the-oops-and-downs-of-advertising%E2%80%9D-launched.html-of-advertising%E2%80%9D-launched.html

Some Reviews of the Book...

And some reviews...
http://www.businessworld.in/bw/2011_06_18_Its_A_Mad_Ad_World.html

http://www.financialexpress.com/news/life-in-an-ad-agency-a-roller-coaster-ride-book/808180/0

Nov 25th: It's International Meatless Day!

My Take - Love thy animals. But not in thy burger…

INDU BALACHANDRAN

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The Hindu

INDU BALACHANDRAN on the endless possibilities on November 25, a day of celebration for vegetarians.

There's a day in November when a lot of animals and birds may rest easier: November 25th is International Meatless Day.

Apparently, it's the day when environmentalists and animal rights activists hope that more people will discover the merits of vegetarian food — eating kidney beans rather than kidney stroganoff, trying out yam rather than ham, and sharing recipes involving the flesh of a fruit rather than the flesh of a beast.

Meatless Day will convince people everywhere to love animals and birds more — but not inside their burgers, sandwiches, rolls, curries, pies…(most definitely not blackbirds, four and twenty of them, baked in a pie.)

As a die-hard vegetarian, I am hoping this is not an excuse for supermarkets to push up the price of our already pricey vegetables that day. As for die-hard non-vegetarians, I suspect some will still cheat on that day, and interpret meat-less day as less-meat day, and slyly chomp on a fish finger or two for sustenance.

But somebody should alert Lady Gaga that she can't do a repeat of her sensational outfit at last year's MTV Video Awards, where she wore an entire dress made up of raw meat. Including her purse. (Was it made out of a sow's ear, I wonder…). She's one celebrity PETA (People for Ethical Treatment of Animals) will never go running after, as their ads feature famous stars dressed only in green clothes. Greens clothes actually. PETA models often pose in amazing garments made solely out of spinach leaves, lettuce leaves and cabbage leaves, with this catchy headline: “Let Vegetarianism Grow On You”. It might happen slowly, but you'll surely turn vegetarian some day, they promise…

So we can look forward to lots of information by vegetarian activists on the high protein content of nuts, the super-nutrients of soya, the body building qualities of tofu, and the reassuring news that one can even have rippling muscles like Shahid Kapur — who, incidentally, is a vegetarian and has all these as meat substitutes.

Where do they belong?

But I always wonder about those in-betweens: vegetarian lovers of chicken. No, that's not as contradictory as it sounds. I mean those who love to eat a chicken before it is born, not after it is dead. Where do egg-eaters belong?

And even as committed environmentalists turn our attention to the benefits of living better by consuming not animal life but plant life, what about some plants who are consuming living things? The Venus Fly Trap and other insect-gobbling carnivorous plants are not going to be very popular that day for sure.

The day will however be tough on kids who hate their vegetables; whose idea of a balanced diet is a hamburger on each hand. But I must say I am pleased to note that in many restaurants, the vegetarian's options are steadily growing larger everyday. I mentioned this to my chef-pal Abhijit recently. “Time was when people ordered their steaks rare. Now they order steaks rarely…”says Abhijit. All this despite that rather carnivorous hit reality show Master Chef Australia, showing several enticing ways of biting into food before it has a chance to bite the judges back. Sure, they also use vegetables in many wonderful creative ways — but mostly as decorations.

And we must applaud the clever idea of PETA giving annual awards to Celebrity Vegetarians. In the West, kids apparently began eating up vegetables faster when their greatest film hero Toby McGuire declared he was a total vegetarian by choice. As Spiderman, I guess McGuire was protecting a number of his distant relatives in the animal kingdom. In India too this celebrity strategy surely works — especially when Kareena Kapoor was declared India's sexiest vegetarian (even when her Size Zero made fans wish there was more flesh on her, even if it didn't get in her.) Then Amitabh Bachchan too confessed he was healthy and fighting fit, simply by chewing on green leafy vegetables; quite like he once did, chewing paan banaraswala…

No contest

Meanwhile this year's winners of India's Sexiest Vegetarian titles have furthered the cause of PETA even more. Among women, the winner this year is Vidya Balan: who looks healthy, glowing and pretty as a picture, in “Dirty Picture”. And the dashing male winner is Shashi Tharoor; he may still occasionally travel cattle class, but no cattle in any form on his dinner plate, thank you…

So enjoy the many healthy options of a meatless life. And don't forget this new-age Lord's prayer as you eat: “Give us this day our daily, multigrain, nutri-plus, ezee-digest, super-crust, vitamin-boosted bread.”

Indu Balachandran is a travel and humour columnist. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in.

Keywords: vegetarianism, PETA, healthy eating

In Hindu Metro Plus Oct 13,2011

The Apple of my i

INDU BALACHANDRAN

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TOPICS

Steve Jobs: An iconic legacy
peoplecelebrity

Steve Jobs has changed lives. How else would you explain an ardent fan's puja to the iMac?

I have two machines that I absolutely adore. Both are compact and stylish and white in colour. One is my i10. The other is my iMac — the first one is what I drive, the other is what drives me.

That's why, like a good Indian, I did puja to both, this navarathri — because that's our service maintenance contract with God, renewed annually, to bless our machinery and ensure its long life.

I began with the bigger of my small wonders, Hyundai i10. I hosed her down to a whiter shade of white. A marigold garland hung happily in a curve under the bonnet, making her ‘smile' a little more. Then she got bright red kumkum tikkasadorning her like a bride. She purred when I started the ignition. Her four gleaming wheels quickly squashed the lemons placed beneath each tyre. (Why do we follow this superstition? No one really knows. But, if it's an added ‘safety feature' for my car, then I'm all for lime-juice technology…)

Then it was the turn of my iMac. My office, my boss, my secretary, all in one. My fruit offering for this important puja was, what else? An apple! As I applied a bright red tikka on the sleek white surface, I thought ‘hey does your brilliant designer know we Indians add our own embellishments to you, once a year?' Ok, I didn't actually garland my iMac, but when I switched the iMac on, my screensaver showed a riot of flowers — a picture I'd myself shot on a recent holiday.

Prayers done. After a couple of feather touches, I was zooming away, much like on my i10, but on the information superhighway. I landed on everyone's favourite destination, Facebook. And in an ironic twist of fate, I read about the demise of the man who'd invented our brave new world's most wondrous machine… on that very machine itself.

Steve Jobs, said my iMac, had logged out of our lives.

Word tributes, pictorial tributes… if what I saw here was a burst of creativity, much could be attributed to the man who set millions on that path — simply by the ease and joy that made digital expression anybody's domain. I came to conclude that while we may pray to goddess Saraswati, Mac evangelists would always worship their own God of Creativity and Learning… now in his heaven. I read many many evocative words of praise, as people hit the ‘share' button on quotes and YouTube excerpts about the genius who'd helped the world move on.

Until a wag came along… On his status update, a pal of mine had written in his usual brand of honest wit: “I don't know much about computers. I don't even know how often to change the oil. Thanks Steve, for a hassle-free machine where I can say this to the world.”

Steve Jobs is going to live forever.

[The Hindu] A matter of life and debt

TOPICS

lifestyle and leisure

We spend so much on luxuries, we can't afford the necessities any more.

I was in the newest super-mall in town. It was a day when the sensex had done a dive that would have qualified it for the Olympics, but strangely, all around me, I saw only prosperity; with many happy people shopping away at the utterly plush designer stores... Hey, didn't the sensex figures depress you guys today? I wondered. Looks like it had driven them out in even greater numbers to buy more fancy lifestyle stuff.

And so I have come to this conclusion: Even in the midst of life, we are in debt.

But later, in the lift going up to my flat, I bumped into Shanks. “Why so glum, Shanks?” I asked my usually cheery and witty neighbour.

“Oh, my wife and I finally figured out how to cope with our monthly food bills,” said Shanks. “One of us has to stop eating.”

Starving for luxury

Now that did seem a bit extreme. But I soon found that this is exactly what is happening to a lot of people like us. We spend so much of money on luxuries, we just can't afford the necessities any more.

And when we casually say at parties, “A lot of my money is currently tied up in the market…”, what we mean of course, is the supermarket. We dash in for a quick five minutes just to pick up, say, a humble box of cornflakes — and return an hour later with five varieties of super-powered, enzyme-fortified, fibre-boosted, crackle-enhanced breakfast cereals, a different one for each day of the week. All because the super-mom-like lady wheeling her cart just before us, picked up five such boxes.

That's why it's not a joke anymore, when we hear that these days the most expensive vehicle to operate, per mile, isn't a gas-guzzling Cadillac, but a chrome plated four-wheeler we all use regularly: the supermarket trolley.

And those annoying Joneses are not just living next door, smugly whispering “Keep up! Keep up!” They are everywhere: At those supermarket aisles in front of us, at parties, at offices, at restaurants.

And before we know it, we too want to add way more style to life, and brighten our middle-class lives. We'd much rather fix an appointment at “Niki's Hair Haven”, than drop in at the barber for a quick trim around the back; drive all the way to pick up bread from “ Le Boulangerie”, rather than send our watchman out with a bunch of change to the corner store; we'd rather spend two hours at “ Mimi's Nail Boutique” rather than quickly clip them while reading the morning's papers; and drive our beloved vehicle to “ Toni's Car Spa” for some soapy pampering, rather than hose it down ourselves on a Sunday morning.

And when we're eating out? “Yes, do get me a bottle of ‘Qua' please…” we say poshly to the waiter, perhaps believing an ad we saw on TV that this precious bottle of pure mineral water was personally filled in sleek bottles by several tiny dancing elves, living in the pristine Himalayas…and so we pay the equivalent of an entire meal for three at an idli joint just for this one bottle of water alone.

So much in a name

And, of course, the same reckless behaviour occurs when we start ordering the food. We are captivated by this description in the menu that says, “Sun-kissed, farm-fresh legumes in a nouvelle Meditteranean blend, grilled to a perfect crisp in a gentle dip of bakery-fresh crumbs, embellished with spring-dew cilantro and tomatino”; whose common name is, of course, the vegetable cutlet. (My maid Hamsa makes these with leftovers, in a jiffy.) However, we wait 45 minutes in this elegant restaurant, and finally two tiny brown circles arrive in a huge white square designer plate, there's a zig-zag line of sauce along the side, a tiny sprig of coriander, and a tomato decoration skilfully cut and shaped to look like the Sydney Opera House. “Wow!” we exclaim. It's all so much like being the judges in Master Chef Australia! But there are strong chances we are going to be eating curd-rice as soon as we get home, so that we don't wake up hungry in the middle of the night. Or to combat the heart-burn we may feel, when we think of that bill we paid in the end.

Despite these experiences, I am already filled with curiosity about a new upscale hotel that's serving ‘authentic street foods of India'. What an idea, sir-ji. Basic, non-fancy food, but with five-star cleanliness and comfort! The whole gang is planning to go there for a good gobble for our next celebration, but their bill that will gobble our money may well make us wonder if the ‘street' referred to here is Dalal Street.

Meanwhile, those fabulous stores in the mall are continuing to stock up the goodies, luring us in all the time.

No wonder my pal Shanks has begun to feel that he has too much month left over at the end of his money.

Indu Balachandran is a travel columnist. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in

This article was featured on http://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/a-matter-of-life-and-debt/article2517600.ece

A matter of life and debt

INDU BALACHANDRAN

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We spend so much on luxuries, we can't afford the necessities any more.

I was in the newest super-mall in town. It was a day when the sensex had done a dive that would have qualified it for the Olympics, but strangely, all around me, I saw only prosperity; with many happy people shopping away at the utterly plush designer stores... Hey, didn't the sensex figures depress you guys today? I wondered. Looks like it had driven them out in even greater numbers to buy more fancy lifestyle stuff.

And so I have come to this conclusion: Even in the midst of life, we are in debt.

But later, in the lift going up to my flat, I bumped into Shanks. “Why so glum, Shanks?” I asked my usually cheery and witty neighbour.

“Oh, my wife and I finally figured out how to cope with our monthly food bills,” said Shanks. “One of us has to stop eating.”

Starving for luxury

Now that did seem a bit extreme. But I soon found that this is exactly what is happening to a lot of people like us. We spend so much of money on luxuries, we just can't afford the necessities any more.

And when we casually say at parties, “A lot of my money is currently tied up in the market…”, what we mean of course, is the supermarket. We dash in for a quick five minutes just to pick up, say, a humble box of cornflakes — and return an hour later with five varieties of super-powered, enzyme-fortified, fibre-boosted, crackle-enhanced breakfast cereals, a different one for each day of the week. All because the super-mom-like lady wheeling her cart just before us, picked up five such boxes.

That's why it's not a joke anymore, when we hear that these days the most expensive vehicle to operate, per mile, isn't a gas-guzzling Cadillac, but a chrome plated four-wheeler we all use regularly: the supermarket trolley.

And those annoying Joneses are not just living next door, smugly whispering “Keep up! Keep up!” They are everywhere: At those supermarket aisles in front of us, at parties, at offices, at restaurants.

And before we know it, we too want to add way more style to life, and brighten our middle-class lives. We'd much rather fix an appointment at “Niki's Hair Haven”, than drop in at the barber for a quick trim around the back; drive all the way to pick up bread from “ Le Boulangerie”, rather than send our watchman out with a bunch of change to the corner store; we'd rather spend two hours at “ Mimi's Nail Boutique” rather than quickly clip them while reading the morning's papers; and drive our beloved vehicle to “ Toni's Car Spa” for some soapy pampering, rather than hose it down ourselves on a Sunday morning.

And when we're eating out? “Yes, do get me a bottle of ‘Qua' please…” we say poshly to the waiter, perhaps believing an ad we saw on TV that this precious bottle of pure mineral water was personally filled in sleek bottles by several tiny dancing elves, living in the pristine Himalayas…and so we pay the equivalent of an entire meal for three at an idli joint just for this one bottle of water alone.

So much in a name

And, of course, the same reckless behaviour occurs when we start ordering the food. We are captivated by this description in the menu that says, “Sun-kissed, farm-fresh legumes in a nouvelle Meditteranean blend, grilled to a perfect crisp in a gentle dip of bakery-fresh crumbs, embellished with spring-dew cilantro and tomatino”; whose common name is, of course, the vegetable cutlet. (My maid Hamsa makes these with leftovers, in a jiffy.) However, we wait 45 minutes in this elegant restaurant, and finally two tiny brown circles arrive in a huge white square designer plate, there's a zig-zag line of sauce along the side, a tiny sprig of coriander, and a tomato decoration skilfully cut and shaped to look like the Sydney Opera House. “Wow!” we exclaim. It's all so much like being the judges in Master Chef Australia! But there are strong chances we are going to be eating curd-rice as soon as we get home, so that we don't wake up hungry in the middle of the night. Or to combat the heart-burn we may feel, when we think of that bill we paid in the end.

Despite these experiences, I am already filled with curiosity about a new upscale hotel that's serving ‘authentic street foods of India'. What an idea, sir-ji. Basic, non-fancy food, but with five-star cleanliness and comfort! The whole gang is planning to go there for a good gobble for our next celebration, but their bill that will gobble our money may well make us wonder if the ‘street' referred to here is Dalal Street.

Meanwhile, those fabulous stores in the mall are continuing to stock up the goodies, luring us in all the time.

No wonder my pal Shanks has begun to feel that he has too much month left over at the end of his money.

Indu Balachandran is a travel columnist. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in

Club sandwiches with the Tiger

Club sandwiches with the Tiger

By Indu Balachandran

Less than a month ago, I met Romi Chopra at a great reunion of old HTA-Delhi advertising buddies. Among the stories we recalled of our own desi Mad Men era of the early 80’s: an unforgettable tryst with Nawab of Pataudi.

I was then a mere sub-junior copywriter of sorts, thrilled to bits for being given a chance to write for the Wills Limited Overs series. As Romi’s circle of friends included Pataudi himself – (we would often hear Romi’s booming voice saying Hello Pat! into his phone)—he’d got our biggest cricketing hero to give us a quote or two about the thrill of the daring concept of One Day Cricket, to include in our ad campaign.

It fell upon my excited, nervous self to draft these ‘possible quotes’.

I must have written about a 100 variations, before my shortlist of 10. Romi must’ve flung them all away to make me write some more. Anyway, Romi was just setting off to meet the Tiger for lunch at the Gymkhana, and get approval on ‘the lines’. In a sudden act of bravado, I squeaked: Romi, may I come along too?

And so it was that I was sitting at a posh Delhi club, at a lunch table with Romi and Pataudi. I doubt if the Nawab was even remotely aware of my goggle-eyed presence throughout, as Romi and he chatted away over the audacious Kerry Packer. Some sandwiches came in. They ate. I don’t think I did, due to a lock-jaw condition brought on by utter awe.

Somewhere at the end, Romi pushed across my neat, Remington-typed sheet of one-liners, with ‘MAK Pataudi’ below each. His aristocratic eye glanced over them, as my heart stopped altogether. “Hmmm” he said, and asked Romi to choose what he thought appropriate. And soon we were back at the office. I became an insufferable person for the next few days, recounting my unexpected treat with cricketing royalty.

30 years later…Romi was sharing with me some fabulous pictures on his IPad, of Pataudi’s 70^th Birthday celebration that he’d attended earlier this year. How dashing the Tiger still looked, we said, as we laughed over that old story.

Today, I’m glad I gave into that reckless impulse, gate-crashing an unforgettable lunch. It connects me in a very special way to a true sports hero of my time. Not to mention, to be able to tell my Cricinfo -journalist son today: hey, I wrote some snappy cricket one-liners for the King of Indian Cricket himself…

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Interview- Laughs From The MAd World: An Interview with Indu Balachandran

Here is an interview I had done with dialabook.in..

Indu Balachandran is hot, happening and full of breeze! Author of a barely three month old book on the quirks and adversities of a mad life that is already a bestseller running into reprint, her quick prose dazzles with gentle humor and 29 year old wisdom from having worked her way up in one of India’s top ad agencies, as she elbows us with her crafty blueprint of “making it” in that luminous land of advertising. Smarter than a Dummy’s guide, and lighter than newsreel, Indu’s wild experiences at JWT (formerly HTA) inspire her debut book chronicling the best job in the world, not just because of the money but also because “work is synonymous with fun and people are never found in the (ad) agency way past 10:45 am because they were busy catching up with work, because they were too busy all day having fun, or rather it’s synonym work… so they took time off for some work…sorry fun, and that is why they were so late arriving for fun, in other words work.”

Peppered in frolic Indu cracks down on the yuppy hierarchy in ad agencies, effortlessly seizing every living ad caricature she has met, baring for us the poor vulnerable souls of Creative (bedraggled copywriters and art directors of both pre-Mac and post I-pad eras), the traumatized Client servicers and account executives, Planners and tiara flashing Media men and women (from Planet Hollywood) among several others. She breaks open and closes every straitjacket in the business of advertising, proving to us there are no superheroes, only super-teams on super-steroids. The Copywriter, however, does remain the consistent butt of all jokes and affection, who, through all his/her hard work, laziness, and good times and bad, chants feverishly “Give us this day our daily, multi-grain, nutria soft, ezee digest, super crust, vitamin enriched bread.“ The ensuing empathy and reality, “For every high flying Creative Director traipsing off to Brazil to judge entries for an award show, there are about 7328 humble copywriters trying to write a sales conference AV script for a rubber lined gasket or a fuel injection pump. Or… administering vitamin pills to the client’s depressed sales force.”

This book is a fond reminiscence, but mostly a hail funny look at the goggle eyed workforce of eccentrics, jokers, nerds, sleazepots, and above all dreamers. “Advertising is the only non-criminal human activity that allows you to make a living off your character defects, which usually include pride, anger, gluttony, lust, sloth, greed and envy”! Alight these pages guilt-free, vacuous, and help yourself to anecdotes and delectable potshots at the people we love to hate. Indu has given us, what every aspiring, current or former young ad professional wants to know: What does it take to succeed (or survive?) in the Attention Deficit world of Advertising. This slim digest of 100% Tao is both intimate and objective at once, with energy so textually manicured and yes, meticulous! Read on, to identify your stereotype better than any Facebook quiz on what’s your ad personality. Be it acronyms, acrimony, or jargon, the death is in the detail, as CANNES (CERTIFIED AWARD NABBERS, a category of defensive, award obsessed Creative Directors) assume tall tones like “Conceptually the copy is turgid, but consciously so, because the undulating greens in the visual need a holistic counterpoint.”

A verbal cartoonist with crackling insights on every aspect of the industry, Indu leaves you rolling on the floor laughing your pants off while still inside your head, dizzy even with the unbearable lightness of being an agency outsider, or worse, insider, a has been or a will be, as you scour these pages of her MAd ex love.

This week we sneaked up on former advertising professional and eco travel writer Indu Balachandran, who hands us a boisterous script of the ad world in her first book Don’t Go Away We’ll be Right back: The Oops and Downs of Advertising.

What a Title!!!
The words “Don’t Go Away, We’ll Be Right Back,” uttered every single day, just before a commercial break all over the world, is actually a cunning way to remind people about this Book! Which means glamorous talk show hosts like Oprah and Simi, funny men like Jay Leno, even respected news presenters like Pronnoy Roy, all say this phrase for me— completely free of cost. How’s that for some clever, un-paid-for advertising…

From copy trainee to executive creative director… all in 29 years. Are all these years encapsulated in your book? Is this the bible to surviving faux pas in the advertising world?

There are some characters and observations in the Book that I remember from my first year as a trainee in HTA Delhi (now JWT). So yes, it is a happy recall of many years of being in a charged, idea-rich environment, where a remarkable set of talents come together. Besides, I am also a compulsive scribbler of ‘wit as it happens’ aka the ridiculous (oxymoronic) things people say at meetings. For example: The client who says, “I’d like to see some fresh, innovative ideas that have been tried and tested many times…” Or this angry reaction when a great campaign is rejected: “The client changed his mind again!” “Yeah, but the new one doesn’t work any better…” Priceless stuff!
When I first started writing about some of the loony ways we advertising guys work and talk, I found lots of readers from other agencies say, this is EXACTly what happens in my agency too. And even though it wasn’t really the intention, some said it made them stop and think about their work quite a bit: the inordinate amounts of time we waste on pointless stuff at meetings, the play-safe clichés we keep on using for ads, and all the eccentric nutcases we have to put up with, just because they are ‘creative people’… So if there’s any such thing as “Laugh Your Way to The Top” then my Book has a dubious, higher purpose as an advertising manual!
It’s purpose is also to make those in advertising ‘see themselves’ and make those who left the profession recall an enjoyable time of their lives, and for the newbies—give a realistic picture of the madness, mayhem and excitement, without scaring them away.

Was advertising a conscious choice for you as a youngster when people had more conventional career options?

I think I’ve always wanted do writing… thanks to a Dad who was pretty amazing with wordplay. He got us Mad Magazine from abroad years before anyone in India had even heard of them. He got us “The Golden Trashery of Ogden Nash-ery” filled with brilliant nonsense rhymes. Even though we never knew there was such a thing as an Ad Agency, I did dream about writing the world’s shortest short stories: birthday cards which start with an intriguing line on the cover… and end with a twist on the inside. I used to write these all the time for friends through school and college. All sound practice for writing pithy stories for 30 second ads, I guess!

Tell us any personal favorite dreaded or bizarre “Oops” and “Downs” of the ad world?

In Oops, a Client –ex-JWT Delhi people will know who I’m talking about—who said at the end of his annual briefing in our conference room: “That’s it. Now my balls are in your court…”
Another was a hoarding design “The restaurant has a bra attached…” Yet, another at a college’s annual day brochure, where the faculty was not amused reading: “4.00pm. Address by Faulty Members.”
But here’s JWT Chennai’s favorite story: Our senior accountant, a conventional south Indian gent, was perhaps influenced by the hep lingo used by young people. He once said: “The Manager is quite upset…today she took out my pant”. Only later we figured he was using a highly common phrase in ad agencies: “We had our pants taken by the client today”!!
And some horrific downs … We used to do ‘8-projector audio visuals’ in the 80’s, with a million tiny slides filling several Kodak carousels. Once in the middle of a crucial presentation, slides suddenly started popping out and flying away out of the over-heated projector, and we were jumping about bizarrely catching them, like we were in cricket practice!

What has been one life-defining commercial for you, as in an ad that changed the way you saw art, advertising or even the great Indian middle class?

One amazing campaign that makes me proud of what advertising can do—and it truly affected the great Indian middle class—is the Tata Tea ‘Jago Re’ body of work. It told us to ‘wake up’ to corruption, to the way we use small time bribes to get past traffic offences, get admission to schools, get tickets etc. right down to yanking us out of our apathy towards voting. That was really big! At the same time, it was firmly locked into the basic brand promise: the tea that woke you up. It worked both ways; it affected our thinking, and it affected their sales. Fantastic!

A more light-hearted example is the sparkling brand work on Pepsi. Remember ‘Nothing Official About It?’ What a brilliant way to appear more cool, un-boring and youthful, while hijacking attention from the competition who had won costly ‘official’ sponsoring rights to a major sports event! I also think Pepsi’s “Mera number kab ayega?” was so bang on: reflecting a terrific insight into a typical Indian anguish, as we endlessly wait, wait, wait for something to happen. Pepsi’s advertising catch lines invariably went right into our everyday conversations, even newspaper headlines.

Tell us about creative hierarchy in an organization as flat as an ad agency.

Hierarchy in ad agencies is something that happens through the professional respect you earn –no matter how old or young you are. Do some truly outstanding work: and you are the one on top; on top of everyone’s mind. That’s what really matters! Ad agencies are not only great at generating brand names for products, they are also proficient in generating fancy ‘nearly-there’ titles to denote hierarchy. So these are handed out sometimes to retain talent within the agency; to individuals who produce good work, yet have no leadership skills to actually become a ‘head’ of any sort.

You’ve won several awards in advertising. What drove you?

Honestly speaking, there’s an unbeatable high that comes from hearing “Sales are suddenly up since our campaign broke…here’s a superb letter from the Client…” This feeling far outlasts the other kind of high from doing something that upped the bar and drew a ‘wow!’ from the ad community. And while I have no Cannes Gold to boast of, I became the envy of millions when I won another kind of gold: the 22 carat one—a whole kilo of real gold for writing in 15 words or less why I liked shopping at Vivek’s Department Store. The cheesy, winning rhyme I wrote was entirely due to my training as a copywriter!

How cathartic was writing this book?

I think most humorists doing spoofs are invariably writing the real truth, even if in an absurd or comic style… and so too with this Book: it’s written on behalf of all those who have to suffer weird colleagues, boring clients, eccentric divas, moronic bosses, needless time wasters… So yes, it was cathartic! The thing is it could have easily got very cynical—that’s one thing I’m not, and hopefully it’s more of a laugh-along than a ouch-that-hurts!

What made you quit advertising?

Well, one trigger was this: my leave record was in shambles, and the second biggest passion of my life, travelling—was being compromised. An unbelievable opportunity came along: would I like to review eco-friendly hotels all over India, which means free travel, free stay, free food and unlimited adventures? YES! So I did the unbelievable: quit JWT—for 29 years my home, my life… But the last month was the toughest: I was at a 3-day Pepsi shoot with Shah Rukh Khan (incidentally the first-biggest passion of my life, if you wondered about it a few seconds ago!), and I thought, am I mad to give up this amazing advertising life?? Plus there was also this half-written Book on advertising that my two sisters were after me to finish…

Real Time Working professionals, and not just those in the news, are braving it, every second, everyday. How are you coping with the present?

I keep in constant touch with what’s going on and also do the occasional creative workshop, teach at management institutes. But there’s NOTHING to beat the joys of a travel writer! So far I have been to over 60 hotels: magnificent palaces, humble beach shacks, cozy Himalayan hideouts… met many inspiring eco-conscious owners. I have enough notes on the funny side of travel for another upcoming Book!

Did you ever read any soul stirring books about advertising?

As a trainee in HTA Delhi, I read From those wonderful folks who gave you Pearl Harbour by a famous copywriter named Jerry Della Femina. The most soul stirring books on Advertising have been The Copy Book filled with essays of advertising greats that makes you think the copywriter has the BEST job in an agency, and A Smile In the Mind where every single page of this wittily written and illustrated manual can make you a better creative person. “Cutting Edge Advertising” by Jim Aithchison is also fabulous. But my favourite one that actually led to writing this Book… is The Joy of Work, by Scott Adams. I keep on re-reading it and laughing. It set me thinking: what if Dilbert was in an ad agency? That’s why I roped in (Don’t go Away… cartoonist) Paul Fernandes—we simply had to have those quirky illustrations! I dream of the day when I give Scott Adams a copy of my Book. Till then, I’m wondering how to reach one to SRK…:).

This interview was featured on http://dialabook.in/blog/laughs-from-the-mad-world-an-interview-with-indu-balachandran/

(For Women's Day) Nari Nari Quite Contrary...

Nari Nari, quite contrary…

Indu Balachandran sheds some light around that eternal question: What do women really want?

So it's Women's Day again, and magazines are going into overdrive celebrating the wonder of womanhood. But there's something we women have to admit about our glossy women's magazines: They're pretty schizophrenic.

If you look at the enticing covers of these magazines, there'll be an insightful article telling you what low-ranking beasts some men are. Followed immediately by another that tells you how to attract men. Now this can be pretty foxing to gender experts, who have made an extensive study of women's writings… trying to solve the eternal question: What do women want?

Ha ha! Keep figuring that one out, men!

Take my feisty friend Lily, who is anything but silly. While she was being wooed, she made things quite clear to her boyfriend Shanks. I always want to hear the truth about myself, Shanks, she said. No matter how unflattering it is. So he simply can't understand why she is still so mad at him…All because he put down her true age in their Club's notice board, when they asked for names and ages of those joining a trip to Ladakh.

So perplexed men try to cope by endlessly making up jokes about us multifaceted, multilayered beings called women (which are wonderful words that mean: We've got you stumped with our contradictions! Haven't we, guys?!).

One reason why there is so much ribbing going on about the woman of the species is probably because she was created out of Adam's rib. And men can't help making wisecracks even when called to address a bunch of women on serious and prestigious occasions like Women's Day. Here's what happened when a very respected personality, a man, was invited to be a key-note speaker at a women's organisation's celebration of March 8th. The revered gentleman had promised to make it a short opening speech. So he went right up to the podium, cleared his throat, and started: “Women are, generally speaking…” And then sat down.

(Okay okay, we do speak a lot, Mr. Man, but what about you all, when you are in the 278 {+t} {+h} cricket pre-World Cup special on TV this year, discussing whether India will repeat its 1983 World Cup win or not? You never ever stop speaking either…and all at the same time too). Meanwhile men, (secret readers of women's magazines — perhaps even more than women themselves) continue to find insights into our real wants — so that they can figure out life's most perplexing dilemma: Marry ‘em or stay single? And no matter how much, like Mary, we are quite contrary, a recent survey I conducted reveals that men need us, more than we need them. Take my good friend Jojo. He is of the firm belief that every man should have a wife. Preferably his own.

My other pal Rana is even better. Every man actually needs two women, says he. A secretary to take things down. And a wife to pick things up.

Indu Balachandran is a travel and humour columnist. Email: indubee8@yahoo.co.in