Ads
"Make our toilet clean?? Impossible !!" declares a middle aged woman shamelessly. The sales guy struggles over the s(t)ink for a couple of minutes and hey presto, the camera zooms in on a unused, brand new Parryware sink, to be greeted by spontaneous gasps of wonder.
Welcome to the matrix. For a change, our actions are governed by ads instead of programs. You are simply an entity among the teeming millions, merely a predictable factor in the larger scheme of things. There is no escape unless you live in Monte Cristo on coconuts and wild berries (even then there is a chance of some sales rep knocking the door of your cave at 2 am).
Indeed, the face of advertisements has changed from the days when as a schoolboy, I was with my friends enticed to buying Kamarkuts (for all those blessed young souls who have heard of nothing but Mars and Snickers, it is a candy ball made from jaggery) by the shopkeeper who periodically circulated rumours about one rupee coins being embedded in them. Though the idea of product promotion has remained the same, it has been amalgamated with a bewildering quantity of improvisation. What was originally intended to be a concept of informing consumers about the latest products has morphed into an instrument of coercion and more often than not, irritation.
Though nowadays there are sales for all possible (and impossible) excuses (there is even talk of having an AIDS day discount sale), this season throws up a variety of products thrust upon the confused customer. "What?" booms the next door lady with fully justified indignation, "have you not yet seen the saree half a kilometre long??" I personally wonder what this feat practically accomplishes (unless the govt. of USA realizes that it is time to clothe the statue of liberty in a fitting apparel). But I keep my thoughts to myself. There is noone more abhorrable than a bohemian.
Interspersed with the endless mega serials( full of cunning scheming women and adulterous men) are ads for a famous textile company. Unblinking housewives sit openmouthed to be enlightened on the various discounts and offers with a handful of models dancing to a horrible cacophony.
The jewel shops are not far behind. " What the heck are you doing in your four walled dungeons when the KBM ISO-9000-2xyz(p+q) (these standards confuse me) gold is thirty five rupees twenty three paise lesser than anywhere else !!!" screams an actress struggling under the weight of chains. The immediate scenes are not hard to predict. Fiercely determined housewives drag their despondent husbands to these 'once in a blue moon' offers. Bankrupt? very likely. The solution is immediate. Get a loan in two minutes at one of the dozen generous banks. (that you have to spend the rest of your life paying intrest through your nose is a totally unnecessary retrospection).
The cosmetics industry is one that thrives even in the worst depression. How does it matter if one's father is out of work? Beg, borrow or steal! The daughter must have her assortment of beauty products that guarantee to make Aishwaria Roy envy her. One young woman aspiring to be a sports commentator, when introduced to a magic cream, pulls off a coup'de'grace. The disappointing part of the ad is that a critic of stature sits simpering in her presence. But most of these ads can do with originality. The routine of an ignored female turning to some fancy soap and a throng of guys mobbing her in the next scene are getting cloying though the advertisors take care to frequently hire new models.
Another trap for women, though encountered more in newspapers is no less notorious. A slimming company triumphantly compares two photos which it (rather unbelievably) insists are of the same person. The first- uncouth and corpulent before treatment claims that she lost half a quintal in course of her metamorphosis to the 36-24-36 figure on the right though even being severely mauled by a starved tiger is unlikely to dissect so much of a person.
Any undergarments ad is sure to have a hunk hounded by hysterical females. But glamour rules the roost in even the most irrelevant situations. What, for instance is the lady sitting near Yuvraj Singh doing in the IOC ad? Look at the soft drink ads and one will find a long queue of celebrities smilingly endorsing products with generous doses of pesticedes.
Is the product so distant from glamour that its usage will be totally incongruous? No problem! Our society is full of sentimental mothers who will rush to the pawnbrokers to gather cash to procure the latest health drink that was allegedly approved by Einstien. Or swear that you save thirteen ml of water every time you use this particular detergent. Another option is to cash in on the philanthrophy of people by proclaiming that two percent of the proceeds goes to charity (which is run by the marketer's son in law). Introducing competitions is a good idea. "Which is the Indian union territory on three letters, the first being "g" and the last "a" ? (Hint - the middle is "o"). Five hundred grand prizes to be won. Fill in your entries on the wrappers of X... and send it to the following address. As a last option if you are totally desparate, there is always the "buy one, get three" offer.
Leaf through the newspapers and be greeted by a full page blowup of the latest bike. " Worried about the soaring petrol prices?? Try our bike that offers you two hundred kilometers per litre of orange juice. Buy our bike. That one? Only losers buy it. Besides you get a keychain free with the vehicle. Also scratch this card and you could end up with anything from a date with Bipasha Basu to a packet of peppermints". In another page, a supermodel gapes in wonder when she hears that the price of the new model of a car is just twenty five lakhs! But of late, these car ads like the cosmetics are getting depressingly alike, each maker busy writing the obituaries of the others. The singular consolation in the abovementioned is that the pages make nice covers for books.
Besides these are a plethora of products - TV's, walkmans, toilet acids and rat poisons which come with gala ads. "Don't you have a mobile!!! Get lost you barbarian!!!" shouts a girl at a prospective date in the disco." Let us face it. We are in a (m)ad world. Even as you turn the pages of the paper ruminating thus, you are sure to encounter a full page reading
" Tired of this mundane, ad filled, commercial existance?? The solution- "Last Flight" pleasure and relaxation tours for the family to romantic and serene destinations from Paris to Pallavaram".
"Make our toilet clean?? Impossible !!" declares a middle aged woman shamelessly. The sales guy struggles over the s(t)ink for a couple of minutes and hey presto, the camera zooms in on a unused, brand new Parryware sink, to be greeted by spontaneous gasps of wonder.
Welcome to the matrix. For a change, our actions are governed by ads instead of programs. You are simply an entity among the teeming millions, merely a predictable factor in the larger scheme of things. There is no escape unless you live in Monte Cristo on coconuts and wild berries (even then there is a chance of some sales rep knocking the door of your cave at 2 am).
Indeed, the face of advertisements has changed from the days when as a schoolboy, I was with my friends enticed to buying Kamarkuts (for all those blessed young souls who have heard of nothing but Mars and Snickers, it is a candy ball made from jaggery) by the shopkeeper who periodically circulated rumours about one rupee coins being embedded in them. Though the idea of product promotion has remained the same, it has been amalgamated with a bewildering quantity of improvisation. What was originally intended to be a concept of informing consumers about the latest products has morphed into an instrument of coercion and more often than not, irritation.
Though nowadays there are sales for all possible (and impossible) excuses (there is even talk of having an AIDS day discount sale), this season throws up a variety of products thrust upon the confused customer. "What?" booms the next door lady with fully justified indignation, "have you not yet seen the saree half a kilometre long??" I personally wonder what this feat practically accomplishes (unless the govt. of USA realizes that it is time to clothe the statue of liberty in a fitting apparel). But I keep my thoughts to myself. There is noone more abhorrable than a bohemian.
Interspersed with the endless mega serials( full of cunning scheming women and adulterous men) are ads for a famous textile company. Unblinking housewives sit openmouthed to be enlightened on the various discounts and offers with a handful of models dancing to a horrible cacophony.
The jewel shops are not far behind. " What the heck are you doing in your four walled dungeons when the KBM ISO-9000-2xyz(p+q) (these standards confuse me) gold is thirty five rupees twenty three paise lesser than anywhere else !!!" screams an actress struggling under the weight of chains. The immediate scenes are not hard to predict. Fiercely determined housewives drag their despondent husbands to these 'once in a blue moon' offers. Bankrupt? very likely. The solution is immediate. Get a loan in two minutes at one of the dozen generous banks. (that you have to spend the rest of your life paying intrest through your nose is a totally unnecessary retrospection).
The cosmetics industry is one that thrives even in the worst depression. How does it matter if one's father is out of work? Beg, borrow or steal! The daughter must have her assortment of beauty products that guarantee to make Aishwaria Roy envy her. One young woman aspiring to be a sports commentator, when introduced to a magic cream, pulls off a coup'de'grace. The disappointing part of the ad is that a critic of stature sits simpering in her presence. But most of these ads can do with originality. The routine of an ignored female turning to some fancy soap and a throng of guys mobbing her in the next scene are getting cloying though the advertisors take care to frequently hire new models.
Another trap for women, though encountered more in newspapers is no less notorious. A slimming company triumphantly compares two photos which it (rather unbelievably) insists are of the same person. The first- uncouth and corpulent before treatment claims that she lost half a quintal in course of her metamorphosis to the 36-24-36 figure on the right though even being severely mauled by a starved tiger is unlikely to dissect so much of a person.
Any undergarments ad is sure to have a hunk hounded by hysterical females. But glamour rules the roost in even the most irrelevant situations. What, for instance is the lady sitting near Yuvraj Singh doing in the IOC ad? Look at the soft drink ads and one will find a long queue of celebrities smilingly endorsing products with generous doses of pesticedes.
Is the product so distant from glamour that its usage will be totally incongruous? No problem! Our society is full of sentimental mothers who will rush to the pawnbrokers to gather cash to procure the latest health drink that was allegedly approved by Einstien. Or swear that you save thirteen ml of water every time you use this particular detergent. Another option is to cash in on the philanthrophy of people by proclaiming that two percent of the proceeds goes to charity (which is run by the marketer's son in law). Introducing competitions is a good idea. "Which is the Indian union territory on three letters, the first being "g" and the last "a" ? (Hint - the middle is "o"). Five hundred grand prizes to be won. Fill in your entries on the wrappers of X... and send it to the following address. As a last option if you are totally desparate, there is always the "buy one, get three" offer.
Leaf through the newspapers and be greeted by a full page blowup of the latest bike. " Worried about the soaring petrol prices?? Try our bike that offers you two hundred kilometers per litre of orange juice. Buy our bike. That one? Only losers buy it. Besides you get a keychain free with the vehicle. Also scratch this card and you could end up with anything from a date with Bipasha Basu to a packet of peppermints". In another page, a supermodel gapes in wonder when she hears that the price of the new model of a car is just twenty five lakhs! But of late, these car ads like the cosmetics are getting depressingly alike, each maker busy writing the obituaries of the others. The singular consolation in the abovementioned is that the pages make nice covers for books.
Besides these are a plethora of products - TV's, walkmans, toilet acids and rat poisons which come with gala ads. "Don't you have a mobile!!! Get lost you barbarian!!!" shouts a girl at a prospective date in the disco." Let us face it. We are in a (m)ad world. Even as you turn the pages of the paper ruminating thus, you are sure to encounter a full page reading
" Tired of this mundane, ad filled, commercial existance?? The solution- "Last Flight" pleasure and relaxation tours for the family to romantic and serene destinations from Paris to Pallavaram".
posted by Praveen at 11:57 PM
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