ITV

Category: MAM

  • Seen there, done that


    It‘s a quirky world full of inscrutable clients, unrealistic deadlines and unpredictable bursts of energy, advertising is.
    Presenting tongue-in-cheek peeks at life in media as it exists in India. We would also welcome such and similar thoughts that you would like to see featured in this column. Feel free to pen in your own take to admadworld@indiantelevision.com.


    Management by cliché – In modern corporate times of increasing cut throat competition, diminishing margins and ridiculously tasteless office attire; it is sometimes only the words of the leader that are expected to thrill the innermost depths of employee souls and invoke inspiring action. However, when these words are diffidently strung together at short notice and shamelessly recycled from those used in vastly different situation before, then the organization has as much chance of progressing as the plot in a reality show does, when the announcement of the winner needs to be made….


    “To lead is the task of a chosen few, even when they seem to have no point of view”


    The hushed Chinese accent, the express delivery of the tea cup and Chai-La (the mystical Chinese tea boy) had vanished into the ardently bellicose fonts of ‘The Art of War’ book that adorned the lobby mantelpiece in the agency.


    The entire agency was gathered in what could be kindly called an adaptation of a ‘town hall’ meeting. Everyone was speculating as to what the President would talk about, these were trying times for the agency as business was not in the best of shape and there were rumors floating that a large worldwide agency was soon going to take it over. Floating, until someone burst the balloon that had this rumor maliciously written on it, as the balloon dropped to its untimely demise, the President entered. The pallid corpse of the balloon kindly dropped on his head in a monumentally rare example of bursting the bubble even before speaking.


    The President was dressed in military gear, like a lavishly pot bellied, obviously drunken General of some sad army that was likely to desert at the stroke of war. He clicked his heels and stood to attention. Then, with a felicity that did not become him, saluted his employees. They all stood stunned by the turn of events. Not because of the sudden authenticity of his salute, but because that sudden knee jerk action had caused his costume to ride up parts of his anatomy rather awkwardly. Parts that could not have been discussed with innocent minds in the vicinity


    “Sir, I think you’d better relax.” said Vikas (Ram’s boss), vocalizing the unspoken desire of the entire audience for once. The President looked at him querulously. Vikas with dexterous eye movements indicated that the problem was ‘down under’. An embarrassed realization ‘pricked’ the President into a more relaxed pose.


    “Ask not what you can do for your office; ask what your office can do for you.”


    Murmurs started to emerge at the back, the correlation of that statement to drug overdose was being examined. Vikas again went up and whispered something in the Presidents ear.


    “Well, I know it was the other way around,” boomed the President, “I was just trying to get your attention, and it is an old technique great public speakers use.”


    “This chap should be called cliché Kumar,” whispered the old cynical hand in Ram’s ears, Tanya (the cute art person) giggled much to Ram’s chagrin.


    “He gets so lost when he needs to address everyone at times like these that he keeps mixing things up,” the old cynical hand continued, as Tanya began to indulge him beyond Ram’s tolerance levels. “You will hear a lot of ‘we need to work like a family’ and ‘we need to be more risk taking in our strategy’; I must have heard this at least twenty three times before. He must have a whole library of these old lofty sounding generalizations.”


    The President by then was in fine form and had worked up quite a head of steam.


    “I know that today we are threatened, but every great civilization and culture has gone through similar times. Look at Egypt, Greece, Sparta, and Rome. It’s when we work together during moments of such crises that bonds forge themselves that look at problems and say ‘break us if you can, even all your might will not be enough’. In fact this is how we will create greater cutting edge work that will win more awards.”


    The audience clapped, firstly because agencies are conditioned to react a certain way whenever they hear the word ‘award’ mentioned, and secondly they needed some relief from the inebriated decibel levels that their chief was reaching. Vikas quickly moved up again and enlightened the President again.


    “Yes I know I said that last line in a different context and when I was talking about a different problem, but many times problems are there because we lack a certain fundamental level of ‘core’ values and perspective. Let me ask if there is any young person here who is so clear enough about our culture that he can come up here and speak. It’s only when young minds volunteer for tasks like these that we can come up with winning solutions to any problems. After all it’s in the mind of the young that possibilities lie, and when there is possibility there is always hope.”


    “I have heard that one only fourteen times before, how original,” quipped the old cynical hand in typical ‘back row’ mentality, purely for the listening pleasure of people in a five feet radius around him. Tanya giggled again, Ram felt slightly more jealous.


    “A volunteer, I need a volunteer,” enquired the President of his troops


    These cases usually resemble situations in which goats have been asked, by reasonably democratic zoo authorities, to step forward in the scientific spirit of adventure and risk entering the lion’s cage with the noble aim of exploring what is meant by the ‘lion getting his goat’ at a purely grammatical level. The goats understandably find their own anatomy to be the more pertinent subject in question and hence seldom willingly accede to the cause. Homo sapiens quickly replicate the successful survival behaviors of the other species hence it was hardly surprising that no one seemed keen to humor the President.


    Until


    “That’s great, just the initiative I wanted to see young people in my office taking. Come up young man!” An elated President was welcoming some poor sod


    Ram was scouting around to see who this idiot could be, when he had the strangest sinking feeling of people looking his way and smiling, further examination of his body revealed his hand had risen to dangerous heights that it had never aspired for before, courtesy the old cynical hand. The culprit was sporting a depressingly evil grin, like his targets for the entire year had been magically met. What hurt even more was the uncontrollable laughter bout that Tanya had got herself into.


    There seemed to be a time and space accelerator at work, because in the blink of an eye he was up there facing the entire lot of one hundred people. Post his college days, Ram had rarely presented at office, especially given his level in the hierarchy, worse still, he had absolutely no clue about the subject in hand


    “When lack of knowledge makes you want to look, you need not go any further than the nearest book.”


    The essential riddle and the tea cup came in a flurry of insight as Chai La disappeared into a stream of co relation subroutines on a nearby computer.


    “Hey! How did the tea cup appear in you hand?” asked the amazed President, “Anyway I must remember not to drink so much, the stage is yours, young man.”


    He gallantly stepped in little to the side in true military fashion, high marching his way to a position five feet away. The histrionic distraction gave Ram enough time to collect his thoughts before the audience attention would return to him.


    He sought books, the first one that caugjht his eye on the mantelpiece was ‘The Art of War’, Ram knew what he had to do, for once Chai-La’s conundrum made sense


    There was silence. The Ram began. He knew he needed a good starting line


    “Every battle is won, before it is fought.”


    The silence grew even deeper; the President was stunned, then he began clapping as did the rest of the audience, the crescendo rose, Ram felt a feeling he had never quite experienced before, he felt confident. His eye began scanning the other books on the mantelpiece, thee were quite a few, maybe he could pull this off


    “Today this is even more important because we are in a situation where we need to thrive on chaos.”


    Rapt attention, then thunderous applause, Vikas’s jaw had dropped to an all time low, Tanya had an interestingly admiring look in her eyes….


    “And we need to establish a culture that will help us isolate the mega trends that will govern the market, such that no competitors action can ever be a future shock to our clients,” Ram was on a roll now, the audience was lapping it up, the President had a kind avuncular look on his face


    “In fact there are no bad soldiers, only bad officers,” the moment he said that, Ram realized that he had got it very wrong.


    Pin drop silence. The President looked at Vikas. Everyone wanted to look elsewhere.


    “Meeting dismissed, see me in my office Vikas, we need to talk about where our younger people, who have no sense to know otherwise, are getting their king sized egos from?”


    Vikas gave Ram a look that meant problems later. The rest of the audience vanished like they had received urgent emails from their chairs who were feeling rather jilted just then.


    Ram stood alone on the battlefield.


    “Not everything can be done by the book; there is trouble to be had if you leap before you look.”


    The tea cup appeared again at lightning quick speed as Chai-La disappeared into the cover of a music CD on Vikas’s table. It read ‘Appetite for destruction”


    Ram knew what was coming.


    The writer is an independent strategic & ideation consultant. He is also the patron saint of Juhu Beach United, a football club that celebrates the “unfit, out of breath media professional of today.” You can write to him at (vinaykanchan@hotmail.com).


    (The views expressed here are those of the author and Indiantelevision.com need not necessarily subscribe to the same)

  • The imperfect storm



    It‘s a quirky world full of inscrutable clients, unrealistic deadlines and unpredictable bursts of energy, advertising is.
    Presenting tongue-in-cheek peeks at life in media as it exists in India. We would also welcome such and similar thoughts that you would like to see featured in this column. Feel free to pen in your own take to admadworld@indiantelevision.com.


    The Brainstorm: – On the face of it, a group activity that engages in the noble quest for better ideas. But this is as far from the truth as the assumption that global warming is a factor of the gas inducing content of worldwide cuisine. These sessions eventually end up as forums where all the seven sins flaunt themselves unabashedly. And the quest for inspiration is reduced to nothing more than candles flickering in the bellicose gusts that are the hot winds of human ego…


    “The quest for ideas must begin, but not before the room beckons sin”


    The hushed oriental tone, the express delivery of the tea cup and Chai-La, the mystical Chinese canteen tea boy, had vanished into the weather warning on the morning newspaper that indicated the lurking promise of a fierce storm sometime soon. “Hmm, sin? What has sin got to do with brainstorming?” queried Ram Shankar, more of himself than anyone else. He was by far the junior most person on the horizon and when one is an underling, one simply does not burden one‘s superiors with philosophic conundrums early in the morning.


    The ‘brainstorming‘ session had been initiated by Vikas (Ram‘s boss) and Dharti (the ravishingly radiant strategy head); the other invitees included PP (the creative director of the ‘moustache‘ fame) and Planimus (the gladiatorial media planning head). The client had also decided to participate with enthusiasm as the three hour session entailed a few sedate hours away from office for them. Bose and Madhur Lele (first name endowed by parents, the second courtesy the general public) had spirited themselves away with glee when the plan was drawn up.


    “Why are we doing this session?” Ram had asked Vikas.


    “Primarily to showcase our thinking ability in making contributions beyond the realms of merely advertising,” began Vikas. “This will be a session in which we will generate lateral ideas for the clients business that will help him create market value and foster long term strategic and competitive advantage.” As usual by time Vikas had finished, Ram was sorry that he had asked the question.


    The room was bubbling with anticipation with most of the seniors (read as in key members in the forum) dreaming of devious plans to ensure that their ideas would be the only ones recognised.


    It was like the tension before a one hundred meters dash at the Olympics. The various ‘competitors‘ in the room were bustling with anxiety, just about ready to erupt in an ‘idea shooting trigger happy‘ mode.





    “We are here…” Vikas had only gone that far that the chains unfettered themselves. “We need a new media vehicle. A low cost innovation…,” started Planimus. “And a new television commercial that is more interesting…,” cut in PP. “A consumer usage and attitude study needs to be commissioned…,” Dharti interjected. “Our sales guys need to be walloped…,” Bose thumped his ‘marketing‘ chest.


    “Shouldn‘t any session like this have a structure?” enquired the polite Ram Shankar. All eyes froze on him. Bose‘s face was turning blue from the effort of withholding the next staggeringly interesting point that he was about to make.


    “Be it pride, envy or lust, Sometimes silence is an absolute must.”


    Ram deciphered those prophetic words above the cacophony and felt the warm reassurance of the tea cup, as its deliverer exploded into sparks of creativity.


    “Ahem! A brainstorming session is a place for only matured minds to contribute,” began Vikas, in what promised to be a scathing rebuke, but his eyes caught Dharti‘s gaze. “However, let me lay down the agenda for why we are here. We will try and uncover ideas beyond advertising; I hope that emphasis on the underline is not lost. Ideas that will help us reinvent perception on the value chain and ensure that the clients business always sets benchmarks in terms of thought leadership in industry….”


    As usual, when Vikas was on song, people needed a few seconds to react, not wanting to lose the plot that Dharti assumed to be the ‘intellectual leadership‘ of the group.


    “Let us start by using one of the techniques I learnt abroad,” began Dharti, emphasizing just the right bit on ‘abroad‘, “what if we were to see our clients business one hundred years from now? What pictures and ideas come to mind?”


    “Commercials that are more interesting,” began PP. “Larger media budgets,” chipped in Planimus.
    “Lesser and shorter client meetings,” was Vikas‘s contribution. “Wider portfolio and a more loyal consumer,” said Bose with contempt.     “I don‘t know what will happen tomorrow, how can I see anything that far?” Whenever Madhur Lele troubled the airwaves, he created unifying moments.


    “Use your imagination!” scolded Bose. “For once think about more than leaflets,” boomed PP.


    “How can a marketing man lack vision?” Planimus wanted to know. “Madhur my man, at least try and use your mind sometimes,” was Vikas‘s exhortation.


    The hostile airwaves seemed to pound poor Madhur Lele into submission and he curled up into a fetal position and disappeared under the table.


    “Despite that remark,” began Dharti, oozing competence, charm and sensuality in every syllable, “we did have some interesting ideas back there. There seems to be a clear need to break all the present moulds of our thinking and try something new. See, isn‘t it interesting what that exercise threw up?”


    Despite the curfew on his participation seemingly imposed by Vikas, Ram felt he had to make a point.


    “But weren‘t those kind of obvious suggestions? Also weren‘t they still to do a lot with essentially advertising? If we are looking at a hundred year perspective, shouldn‘t we touch upon how the brand might not need advertising any more? Can‘t we examine possibility? Like what if we changed the equation to make consumers pay us to speak about their products to friends? Don‘t we need to discuss how the product delivery of our brand might change from a tube to maybe a destination? A place where you simply enter and you‘re itching disappears? If we create one location like this, surely we can increase our business portfolio as well to include other aspects of wellness….”


    “Stop this nonsense,” shouted Bose. “How dare he question the caliber of my suggestion? Someone who has only been twelve months in the business? Look at the fellow he seems to be suggesting ideas that belong to a movie…”


    PP exploded in appreciative laughter, winking at Ram at the same time, an action that saved Ram from further humiliation, as the diversion and the acceptance of ‘his joke‘ by the creative director completely floored Bose. “Hey I have other ones as well…” began an elated Bose. “And we shall hear them later, too many diversions already,” cut in Dharti, with an icy coldness that saddened Ram. “What if we come back to the main issue? It seemed to be going in the direction in which we need to do business differently. And where can we get directions about that from?”


    “From conducting an exhaustive research!” concluded Bose. Dharti smiled with the poise of a boa constrictor. “Brilliant Mr Bose, that‘s a great suggestion. Lets consider that the first ‘out of the box‘ insight that has emerged from this forum, and I think this is going just the right way.”


    Ram felt pangs of guilt about his participation in such obvious conclusions. He was about to raise his voice and spirit in participation again when Vikas patted his hand firmly down and scribbled something down on Ram‘s writing pad…


    ‘Just take minutes of this meeting and keep your mouth shut!‘


    Ram felt utterly demoralised. He returned to record the inanities that seemed to be masquerading as ideas.


    “Let‘s change the packaging!”
    “And we take a new celebrity endorser this year!”
    “This year we will take direct pot shots at the competition!”
    “And we will innovate at every step!”
    “We will set benchmarks, the others will follow.”


    That last statement (Ram was too disheartened to notice its originator) send the entire room in a jingoistic frenzy to the accompaniment of enthusiastic table thumping and back slapping. Ram just sank his head on the table.


    “While the sins of the powers that be are of a higher need, the ones lower in the food chain at such times should always succumb to their basic greed.”


    The high pitched cackle and Chai-La had vanished along a series of marks scribbled along the side of a designer bench kept in the conference room.


    But not before leaving Ram some tea and a whole lot of tasty snacks…


    The writer is an independent strategic & ideation consultant. He is also the patron saint of Juhu Beach United, a football club that celebrates the “unfit, out of breath media professional of today.” You can write to him at (vinaykanchan@hotmail.com).


    (The views expressed here are those of the author and Indiantelevision.com need not necessarily subscribe to the same)


     

  • ‘Life Insurance’ – Max New York’s new TVC

    Imagine….



    She is just back from her shopping spree. She rushes towards the apartment, when the watchman says that her husband has already arrived from office.



    Happy and delighted, she dashes into the kitchen to prepare those two “romantic cups” of tea, to be sipped by two beloved souls amidst the soft evening breeze.



    While watching the water gurgle inside the “hot burning pot”, she calls out to her Sanju; alas, no response. She calls him up on his mobile. Yes!!! It’s ringing; she can hear it. Can he??? She finds his mobile sitting upon the sofa set looking “grey and grave”.



    She can hear the water drops “kissing” the bathroom floor. She steps onto the bathroom tiles, hoping that she will find him there. Sanju’s absence is conspicuous here too.



    She flees; flees across her “sweet home” space with her heart pounding loud; maybe skipping a beat or two. And then she enters the terrace, only to find…



    the soft whispery breeze combing through Sanju’s hair while he silently rests on his easy chair allowing the radio frequency to murmur the “latest” songs into his head phone-corked ears.



    Woof!!! What a relief!



    Ok!!! Let Ad Pick tell you that this is no imagination at all. This is the Max New York Life Insurance TVC, coming from the house of Euro RSCG.



    Review: Great philosophers always warned that no trouble knocks at the window before sneaking through the pane. So, better be alert.



    Max New York’s TVC also follows similar lines. It asks you to be alert. It asks you to be watchful; to be insured. After all, even accidents never knock at the door before dropping in.



    The Max New York Life Insurance ad is built entirely on suspense; and not once does that suspense break its clue. Thus, there is but very little chance that the ad goes avoided, at least in the first go.



    However, here comes the flaw. Just like many suspense thrillers, this ad too tends to loose its charm with repeated watch. Accordingly, the chance that the TVC gets to create an impact amongst the targeted group is highly numbered.



    Yes. The ad does have an impactful punch, specifically because of the suspense theme embedded into it. But for how long does that impact remain amongst the marked assemblage, is a question that can be answered only by the Max New York life insurance agents. After all, it’s only they who know the exact number of policies that’s been sold by so far.



    However, Ad Pick surely believes that the TVC is above average, if not par excellence.



    Not bad Euro RSCG.


    Agency: Euro RSCG
    Running time: 45 seconds
    ITV rating: * * * *

  • The unpardonable


    It‘s a quirky world full of inscrutable clients, unrealistic deadlines and unpredictable bursts of energy, advertising is.
    Presenting tongue-in-cheek peeks at life in media as it exists in India. We would also welcome such and similar thoughts that you would like to see featured in this column. Feel free to pen in your own take to admadworld@indiantelevision.com.


    The interrupters – a clan found in great abundance across society today. These people have an age old personal vendetta against the completed sentence. They take great umbrage when someone manages to sneak one past their intrusive dispositions. Normally, however, when at the top of their game, having any one of this species present in your office is considered extremely bad for grammar and punctuation in general and even worse for blood pressure levels.


    “To complete a spoken line of thought is a privilege that is elusively sought”

    The express delivery of the teacup, the hushed words of wisdom and Chai-La (the mystical Chinese canteen tea boy) had disappeared amongst the pages of the unfinished book that Ram Shankar had been carrying.


    Mr. Bose (the client) had come over to the agency office to introduce one of their new foreign collaborators. It was not meant to be a meeting or briefing of sorts, just an informal introductory session in Vikas‘s (Ram‘s colorful boss and the business head) room where Mr. Interrupto would meet the team he would be interacting with over the next few weeks.


    The agency team was there in full strength, from the servicing fall guys, Vikas and Ram, to the creative director PP (of the outrageous moustache fame), even Dharti (the curvaceously crafted strategic planner) and Planimus (the gladiatorial media planning chief) had been quickly scooped out of their chairs, at short notice and had been bundled into Vikas‘s room to complete the line up.


    Mr. Bose, as he often was prone to, chose to address the huddle as if they were the last blokes standing in between Hannibal and Carthage.

    “My team,” he began in a tone that was decidedly harsh on the eardrums and sensitive minds, “we are gathered here to welcome Mr. Interrupto, our new partner from across the seas, let us begin by hearing from him about his life journey and then…”


    Mr. Bose‘s opening remarks were cut in full flight by a rather polite but decidedly assertive clearance of the throat which the uninitiated would probably have erroneously classified as a cough.


    “Ah beg pardon Bose sir” began Mr. Interrupto, in a tone that was soft but had the chilling undertones of a nascent dictatorial spirit.


    Everyone looked at him in awe, because no one had ever interrupted Mr. Bose in the middle of his opening remarks. It was the same as trying to stop a Sherman tank with a cactus plant, an extremely thorny issue.

    Mr. Bose, however, knew he had to be courteous as these investors were bringing in money by the truckload. Mustering his politest expression he amicably addressed Mr. Interrupto
    “What did you have in mind?” asked Mr. Bose, sporting a ‘smile‘ that would have made Mona Lisa‘s expression far more discernable.


    “Let each of them step forward and introduce himself.”
    “Surely, you don‘t mean step forward,” began Vikas beginning to break into a garish smile which Mr. Bose killed with an instant fluttering of the eyelashes. The rest of the team caught on, evolution in the corporate world does teach you a thing or two.


    “In my culture, it is considered respectful to the guest when the host party does that” answered Mr. Interrupto mirroring a somewhat nostalgic twinkle off his spectacle frames.

    “And we can start with you; who seems to be the captain of the team.” Vikas stepped forward, puffing his chest to such an extent that it began to develop autonomous horizontal ambitions


    “My name is Vikas, I head your business and am responsible for client servicing…”:

    “Beg pardon Bose Sir” interjected Mr. Interrupto, just as Vikas was going to hit the higher octaves, “In my country only inefficient businesses need a client servicing function, it‘s just a waste of manpower.”

    Mr. Bose quickly motioned Vikas to stand down, and the next person to step forward. PP couldn‘t help indulging a smirk.


    “I am Dharti, I head the strategic planning function, and in today‘s challenging market environments it‘s essential to …”
    “Beg pardon Bose Sir” intruded Mr. Interrupto, even as his twin pupils did a lightning quick world tour of Dharti‘s sublimely contoured anatomy “I don‘t want any strategy head on my business, strategy is a military term and I come from a peace loving culture.”


    Dharti‘s eyes lit up with a captivating rage (from Ram‘s perspective) but Mr. Bose and Vikas gestured her to let it pass.


    “My name is Planimus and in today‘s complex changing media environment, I endeavor to provide media solutions that…”
    “Ah! What a guy!” cut in Mr. Interrupto, “Just the person who will get me passes for all those media parties, I have heard so much of your parties and what happens in them, you wont disappoint me, will you?”


    Planimus, felt like pulling out his sword and cutting off vital organs of this ‘introduction interrupting imbecile‘, but years of wisdom had made him more prudent in self expression. Also he hadn‘t carried his sword that day. He merely smiled in consent and receded into the background.


    PP stepped forward, twirled his moustache a bit and began
    “I am PP, creative director of the agency…”

    “Beg pardon Bose sir”, quipped in Mr. Interrupto, “In our culture, people use their full names when introducing themselves, those who cant take pride in their own names, can never do anything on our business. Also where I come from twirling one‘s moustache so aggressively is considered as a signal used by men of ill repute to solicit commercial fornication.”

    “Why you?” boomed PP, but a widely grinning Vikas quickly spirited him outside the room, after the inevitable explosion of expletives; they were both in, in the amazingly efficient time of only two minutes – A new agency record for these interventions.


    Mr. Interrupto regarded the team with a calm expression, like he was gathering with great effort and furious sifting, the absolutely perfect words to choose for introducing himself.
    Then he stood, sensed his environment, as if the elements were trying to goad him into something spiritually magnificent and started “Thirty years ago, when there was abject famine in most parts of my country, my father had an idea that would forever make the lives of people stricken with misfortune better. In the little cave in which we were huddled, as we were contemplating where our next meal would come from, he found on one of the walls of the cave a divine inspiration…”
    “Beg pardon sir” an honest voice interrupted quickly transporting the occupants of the room out of the cave.


    All faces were automatically yanked in the direction of the sound byte and the concerned eyes rested on Ram Shankar.


    “We had not completed all the introductions from the agency team, mine was still remaining.”


    Mr. Interrupto faces exploded with an uncontrollable rage, his nostrils themselves could have qualified as weapons of mass destruction.

    His evaluation of Ram quickly reached him to the conclusion that he would fall in his own eyes if he directly addressed him. Turning to Mr. Bose he began in terse sentences set to the tune of the incessant banging of the table.


    “How dare he interrupt me when I am speaking? We don‘t even encourage underlings to be in the same room, I have taken this as a personal insult, we will think about investing in your company.”


    Mr. Interrupto turned and left the room. Mr. Bose felt like someone had just taken his wonderfully completed exam paper and chucked it out of the window just as the call for time ensued. He followed Mr. Interrupto out of the room almost mechanically. Vikas shot a ‘you are in big trouble‘ expression Ram‘s way and then hurried towards damage control.


    The others patted Ram‘s head rather affectionately, spoke a few kind words about character and bravery and then left the room. Ram sat down and sank his head on the table.


    “Never interrupt a client‘s boss, unless you are prepared for total loss” Ram felt the tea cup and forlornly looked up just in time to see Chai-La disappear in the TV frame which displayed the age old legendary caption ‘Sorry for the interruption.‘


    The writer is Vice President, Rediffusion DY&R. He is also the patron saint of Juhu Beach United, a football club that celebrates the ‘unfit, out of breath media professional of today‘. You can write to him at (vinaykanchan@hotmail.com).


    (The views expressed here are those of the author and Indiantelevision.com need not necessarily subscribe to the same)