Zoozoo and (Indian) Social Media

Zoozoos are the lovable Vodafone TVC characters everyone’s following. There are a series of 25-odd TVCs, “one for each day of the IPL cricket matches”.

It’s been a long time since I saw mass infatuation at this level. Kids talk about it, so do octogenarians.
Rajiv Rao – a great ad person and a greater human being – has done a truly magnificent job. This is the benchmark of good, effective advertising.

It speaks volumes of the excellent relationship between the client and the agency, too: I can’t see too many clients backing this idea, or agencies that have the single-mindedness to see it through.
But this note is about something else: how social media is being used.

There are two ways of looking at it.

One, it’s an unqualified success. I saw the Facebook Zoozoo group with 42,000 members a few days after the TVCs hit the air – and it’s 173,926 as I type. 174k fans, besotted fans, extending the shelf life of the TVCs. I’ve seen people post the Zoozoo TVCs on their page, I’ve seen spots on how the spots were made. You get the sense history’s being made, in the Indian social media space.

Two, not really. About 99% of the activity is solely posting the videos on YouTube, Facebook and Twitter. Interspersed with press releases like ‘Find out what the Deccan Chronicle has to say about Zoozoos’ (Twitter). Throw in some wallpapers, e-cards and emoticons, and you’re done. All boxes ticked. There’s absolutely no attempt to initiate a conversation, which is the heart of social media. It’s like a sell-out crowd at a nightclub – who don’t talk to each other.

I haven’t seen much activity on Orkut either, a platform that’s about four times bigger than Facebook in India. A Japanese client I met a few days back rolled his eyes when he heard the Orkut numbers and asked his marketing manager, ‘What are we doing about it?’ (‘We’ is probably the world’s largest, most aspirational consumer electronics brand; and the gent in question had worked for Uniqlo, the brand that won the Titanium Grand Prix at Cannes last year.)

The good news is I saw a quiz of sorts on the Vodafone website a few days back: ‘Which Zoozoo are you?’ I find them mildly irritating, but at least the agency is doing something, even if it’s borrowing an apps shell and plugging in a message.

But what else? Any Zoozoo games (‘Steal a Zoozoo’), widgets (‘Zoozoo music player’), collaborative activities (‘Create Zoozoo stories with your friends’, ‘Compose a Zoozoo tune with your family’)? Any cross-media connects (‘Do XYZ, we’ll send your child a Zoozoo doll’)? Not really.

The big Zoozoo idea is the cartoony characters – there is no story as such. (Try and replace the dolls with actors, in your mind – doesn’t work that well, not really.) So why aren’t these amazing, lovable characters spreading fun online, doing things they can’t do elsewhere?

The last question is my point really, social media or unsocial media.

So in conclusion, I’ll say great job. But this is no case study on how social media should be used.

But then again, the guys behind Zoozoo are far more talented than I am, and probably will leave a lot of egg on my face a few months from now. Go for it, guys.

P.S. Take a look at this spoof on Zoozoo - Looloo. Very close to my heart.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8fWCWTaBeQ&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.hotklix.com%2Fcontent%2Ffun%2Fhumour%2FLooloo-parody-of-Zoozoo-Vodafone-ads&feature=player_embedded

DNA Article - some crap about the digital thing

ARCOPOL CHAUDHURI, Mumbai: The fast-approaching death of the 30-second spot is taking along some casualties -- more and more ad men, who for long were part of creative teams that made these commercials, are hopping aboard specialist digital agencies.

It's happening in India, where -- unlike global trends -- digital units of mainline ad agencies such as O&M, Leo Burnett and the likes, rarely manage to provide end-to-end solutions at the scale at which a digital agency does.

"There's so much more that can be done in the digital space," said Shubho Sengupta, national creative director, Interactive Avenues, who moved from O&M. "In mainline advertising, after a point, one begins to feel like an assembly-line product. After all, there's only so much you can do making TVCs or writing smart copies. Whereas (in a digital agency), thanks to changing technology and new innovations, the approach to each campaign changes."

Which is why India has seen a mushrooming of digital agencies over the last few years.
Think Webchutney, BC Web Wise, Interactive Avenues, Hungama, Ignitee (formerly Connecturf), Contests2win and Quasar Media, and you're thinking of banner ads, rich media ads, viral marketing, microsites, social media apps, in-video ads, online communities, search engine optimisation and more.

Balakrishnan S, creative director, Pinstorm, who spent 16 years in mainline agencies such as Mudra, Contract and Percept before making a shift, said: "The possibilities are immense. I learnt that advertising can be triggered through keywords!"

Like many others at Pinstorm, who came from non-digital agency backgrounds, Balakrishnan underwent a customised training programme to get familiarised with the medium.

"There is a common understanding amongst everyone in this industry that investing in digital is the way to go ahead," said Vikram Sivaramakrishnan, a former McCann Erickson hand, now VP and branch head (Delhi), Webchutney. "In future, marketers will use the online medium effectively, not because it helps target consumers better, or because it's measurable, but because most of the consuming classes are going to be there."

Hence, said Sengupta, the earlier the person gets into the medium the better, since there are fewer entry barriers at present. "It's the right time to switch. Digital agencies are hiring, because this is when you experiment. Two-three years from now, digital advertising would have arrived bigtime and one wouldn't like to be caught clueless about how to exploit the medium," he said.

Former Vyas Giannetti Creative CEO Atul Hegde, who heads Ignitee, agrees. His interest in digital was sparked off in 2007, when he visited US offices of Google and Yahoo as part of a study tour for CEOs.

"That was a real eye opener. I learnt that we are after all in a communications business, not a technology business. Skill sets can be taught. What one needs is the mindset to change, and an understanding of brands," he said.

What's also fuelling this shift to digital agencies is a visible movement in advertiser confidence. The current recessionary environment has made FMCG, banking services, travel and hospitality sectors reshuffle their advertising monies in favour of digital advertising.

"Greater diversity in the kind of spending would make it even more exciting," said Balakrishnan.

The interesting bit, say experts, is that there's no formula for a successful digital campaign.

We're yet to hear of a Piyush Pandey or Balki of digital advertising. Sengupta offers an explanation: "It's an even stronger team effort. Even a trainee in here feels he has a stake in what's happening in the agency."

the indian digital ad scene, from a grateful dead fan's perspective

I'll be editing this every other day, whittling it down...

I was reading an interview with senior industry representatives, and what struck me was the coyness about the current scenario. Erm, no, we're not affected, not really, we're too small, tee hee hee, and besides, we're a measurable medium, blush blush.
I like this medium. I love it. I think it's the future, the way strangers connect, talk, argue, refine opinions, and so on. It's like making new friends at a pub in Bangalore, connecting with some, exchanging phone numbers.
But when I hear the word measurability, I think of servility. The mantra is 'Digital is measurable, so give us anything your agency has done, we'll adapt it and run it tonight. Please.'
To explore the subtext, bulk CPC (cost-per-click) and CPL (cost-per-lead) deals. We keep 15% of media spends. Or whatever. And someone fills up a form, hey, we get paid too. Whatever.
'Creative' in the measurability universe, would mean the above-mentioned adapts, or really silly 'viral' films with some caricature Bollywood star, or a grungy microsite with a catch-the-popcorn game which a trainee at any of my former agencies like Contract, JWT, Leo Burnett and Ogilvy ('offline' agencies, as they're strangely called) could knock off in 20 minutes flat. (You might ask what are the offline agencies digital wings doing, creativewise - my answer is they're by and large naive beyond belief, of onground digital realities.)
Now there's nothing wrong with measurability. It works for banks selling credit cards - I spend Rs 100 online, I get 10 leads, which mean Rs 10 per lead vs say, Rs 200 through the cold-call-from-call centre-then-physical-follow-up route.
There's just two problems. One, you dig yourself into a hole - there's an invisible ceiling after which the model implodes. Consider a click-through rate of 0.2%, which I'm told is the average CTR in some sectors - that's two guys, out of a thousand. And it's falling.
Second is the bigger problem - it's a demanding mistress. The agencies best resources are put on the job of number crunching - staring at Excel sheets all day long, collating data from publishers, mining data from Comscore and Alexa, and so on. There's no time left to do original thinking. Frequently, the brief to creative consists of a client's forwarded mail.
The creative input from experienced account management hands are gems like 'Blue works better' or 'Two frames, no more'.
I can't blame these guys. They're bright kids, some of them, but with a gun to their heads. In a number-crunching scenario, it's safer to define 'insight' as 'Schoolkids play online games, so let's do something at Zapak' (for example). Not 'Schoolkids have a rebellious streak, so let's create an activity around rebel icons of tomorrow.'
The gun is held by four people: the client, who is increasingly burdened with ROI expectations from all quarters (I've heard of a low-involvement FMCG who want to give away free samples online - fill out a form as long as Draupadi's sari, get a free sample); the publisher (say a rediff.com), who refuses to update his technology year after year; the Internet service provider, who prefers low speeds; and finally the agency heads, who are under tremendous ROI pressure from investors, so prefer playing safe.
Everyone pretends there's no pressure from the 45 million consumers online.
Frankly I don't think things will change too much, in the next few years. 0.2% will further slide to 0.1%, but then 45 million might increase to 65 million, so the final numbers might remain stable. Who knows?
What I'm pretty sure about is that creative hotshops will open up, led by cross-media collaborations. A lot of them might seem to be freelance projects - an offline art/copy team with reasonably good digital sensibilities collaborates with a filmmaker, hires a freelance flash guy and his tech cousin, and the project is put together by an online servicing guy with good strategic skills. The media buying could also be freelanced - to a traditional online agency!
What'll add a fillip to the process is a client who doesn't care about AORs (in digital, they don't, really) - it's an outsourced project, with a fixed fee. Hit and run.
These might be small projects, but big spending clients might try it out as an experiment. Or even the really small ones, I don't know. At some point, someone might click, and that'll open the floodgates.
Here's what I'm doing, to meet the curve. I don't know if it'll work, but it's fun.


I've shifted the goalposts, lately. I focus on clients who understand brands, or the importance of branding, at least. When a client talks too much about 'measurable objectives', 'CPC', 'my offline agency', I immediately switch off. Sorry wrong number. I'd probably do better work than the offline agency without blinking, anyway, going by the usual sorry creative quality.
I have no violent antipathy towards 'measurable' advertising, but I'm wasting my time if I'm thinking of how many fields a mailer should have. There are other guys for that, they're good. I do a little sketch for something once in a while, in the car on the way to office, iPod plugged in, and so far it's been ok.
I'm very involved in strategy, starting off with a clean slate. I'm very involved in projects that encourage a big brand experience that can go media neutral. I'm very involved in projects that encourage interesting ways of looking at social media. I'm very involved with clients who say, 'What's the creative idea? Media plan baad mein dikhao, main khud likh doonga yaar.' I'm very involved with projects that use new technologies - and am not embarrassed to say I don't understand it that well. (Partly because no one does, beyond a 'technician' level.) I'm very involved in projects that force me to collaborate with outside talent, say a 20-year-old pot-smoking musician who calls himself 'Dude'. I get very excited about non-'creative' ideas which come from another division - like a bro concern is doing, creating new online properties. They're rock stars. I'm excited about mobile strategies that go beyond WAP banners with forms. Finally, I get very involved and happy when someone says 'Hey, guess what, there's a simpler way...'
So that's what I've been trying to do for the last few months, after a year of sitting in at ridiculous meetings which end with 'Great presentation, we'll ask our offline agency to mail you the ads.'
The results have been good - eg., we've got a media neutral client we do everything for, including TVCs. (We're already on, this is an India first, if it means anything to you.) We've got FMCGs who want to work with us on the basis of a 3-4 slide creative strategy. We've got development sector clients we'll happily work for free, if the works interesting and we believe in it. We look forward to weird collaborations that don't make traditional sense (if you're a pot-smoking 20-year-old musician who's on MySpace, call me now.)
There's the odd hiccup at times - eg., a client called up the manager the other day, to complain about me 'pushing creative'. (I was proud.)
At some point, sooner than later, I'm going to stop pitching. You won't see me dead in any reception, drinking bad coffee, waiting for the other agency to finish. You like our work? Meet us at a pub, we'll do some sketches on a napkin, then we'll see. Don't do pubs? You're too famous? Well then, give us a presentation fee, we'll come.
If there's a buy-in from my agency, I'll immediately separate media and creative, at least on a small, experimental scale. Just doesn't work - they tried it for 10 years, see what happened. A media buyer writing a creative brief is as ridiculous as it gets. It's like Piyush Pandey writing a media plan.
I would hire account management guys who love digital, from offline agencies, design agencies, MICA, music studios, bars, red light districts, but NEVER from a publisher (a rediff.com or a Google). The last partner I need is a 'sale-oo'. They just don't understand communication. I don't go to industry meets because of sale-oos in badly-cut suits claiming to be 'web evangelists', whatever that means. Everyone's a senior vice president at kalkaji.com, a WPP company... drop in sometime, we have air-conditioning!
(On a separate note, the national creative directors I've met are really embarrassing - all they do is upload moronic YouTube videos on Facebook, after writing 'Yo dude, just chillin' on various middle-aged women friends' Walls... I have to demote myself this year.)
I would take tech very, very seriously. The tech guy should be the highest-paid in the entire ecosystem, and the coolest too. An articulate visionary. A Deadhead. Don't smoke up? Stay with WPP, enjoy the free lunches. (Must admit we have a great Tech guy, my 2009 resolution is to handcuff myself to this dude.)
Search has potential, especially SEO, but spare me. I don't want to touch Search with a bargepole till brands take it seriously. Let video ads come, then we'll see. Main hoon na.
As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince claimed, 'I've seen the future, and it works.'

'Friend Request': Here’s how social networks could (possibly) make us happier people

A recent study conducted by sociologist Nicholas Christakis of Harvard and political scientist James Fowler of the University of California has thrown up some strange findings.
Very strange, in fact. One finding is if you’re putting on weight, your friend will too, over time. Even if she is a thousand miles away. What’s stranger is her friend will too – it spreads like a viral. One reason, the study says, is if your friend is fat, you’ll think that particular degree of obesity is normal, and thus unconsciously overeat.
Heavy stuff. And I’m not particularly interested in reading the 370-page report (published in the New England Journal of Medicine), as I have a few extra kilos tucked away here, there and there.
What’s more interesting for me is a sub-finding by Messrs Christakis and Fowler: Happiness – or depression – also travels in social networks.
Now that’s interesting. Does that mean a Facebook friend in say, Hong Kong who’s just fallen in love and goes mush mush mush at the drop of a hat (or click of a mouse) can also make me flirt with the nearest stranger in Delhi?
That’s an extreme (considering I’ve been married for a while), but I’m willing to agree with the general direction of their study. If a majority of my friends’ ‘status updates’ are positive, I do get a sense that things aren’t as bad as they seem.
Let’s shift the focus a bit. Let’s revisit the way we gather friends, on social networks.
The first thing you do after creating a (say) Facebook account is send out ‘friend requests’ to people you know well. Next, requests to people you know indirectly – good friends of good friends, for example. The final stage is when you start making friends with total or near-total strangers.
That’s when things get very interesting. Over time, you’ll find making interesting friends with shared and sometimes new interests.
Sure there will be some crashing bores you’ll be happy to keep at mouse length, the kind who send annoying YouTube forwards of Bollywood dance sequences.
But over time, you’ll find yourself clicking on pictures of interesting treks, concerts, food – you might even leave a comment or two. Someone else might comment on your comment, and you might comment right back. Happily.
What’s happening there is the birth of a network, your network – it’s like a solar system, with you in the centre. The only difference is the planetary bodies – your ‘friends’ – are more dynamic, and keep changing their positions faster. (Imagine Pluto switching places with Neptune next year.)
Of course, in the world of online social networks, the word "friend" is a lot less meaningful; it includes your most casual of virtual acquaintances. Until you have a chance to build a certain level of trust with them, respect and affection, your interaction with your online friends will often be the digital equivalent of nodding at each other as you pass in the hall.
But we’re not interested in the depth of the relationship, it’s the happiness possibilities of a new relationship. And besides, don’t relationships change over time? Doesn’t the casual become close over time and shared experiences?
I’ve noticed an increasing number of interesting ‘happy’ conversations I have on Facebook are with people I’ve never met, perhaps never will. We discuss literature, art, movies, treks, science and fish (baggage from Calcutta).
In the process, I get the feeling I’m entering a richer, more meaningful domain – albeit virtual. I’m not 100% sure if this feeling makes me a happier person, but I certainly look forward to these exchanges – I prefer them to many ‘real’ interactions.
You might want to try this thing out, making friends online. Hopefully, being a little happier in the process. There are unwritten rules of safety/privacy, of course – don’t give out private information, stick to open forums, and don’t be in a tearing hurry to increase your friend’s list. (I usually ‘talk’ with a stranger for at least 3 months before accepting or extending an invite.)
Here’s where to start:
• You will be surprised at just how many of your friends aren't in your address book – import them from your email account, it takes a minute.
• Find friends from work and college – enter your work and education history in your profile, browse through the ‘people you may know’ section that appears.
• Visit special interest groups... especially niche interests.
• Use a friend to find a friend. Ask someone to ‘introduce’ you – there is such a feature.
• Start a group or join an existing one, and get active. Post on the wall. Comment on forum posts and people's notes.
• Always write a personal note, when you’re asking someone to be your ‘friend’: mention your common interest, and how it would be nice to keep in touch.
Happy networking!

How Much is How Much?

I was waiting for an autorickshaw last evening, at a place you don’t normally get autos. I’d just gotten off a colleague’s car. The option was a short but irritating trudge back home through thick carbon monoxide.

An auto appeared almost instantly and I jumped in. As is the standard practice (meters don’t work in Delhi), I asked ‘How much to E-Block?’
‘Whatever you like…’ the man smiled.

‘Tell me, what’s the problem?’ I insisted nervously.

‘Ok, Rs 15.’

Which was lower than the usual (non-meter) rate so I said ‘I’ll give you Rs 20, let’s go.’ I was also feeling a little happy about avoiding the walk, getting back home in time to play with my daughter.

As the auto groaned its way through the traffic the driver grinned, ‘I’m coming from Pahargunj, you’re the first fare I managed.’ (Pahargunj is some distance away, not too much, but lots for an auto on its last legs.)

‘Happens, sometimes… you’ll make it up tomorrow,’ I told him distantly, dismissing it as a weak attempt to get an extra fiver off me.

Which is when I thought of giving him Rs 500.

Ok. Deep breath. It gets a little tricky here, I'm writing as I'm thinking.

I’d been thinking of the value of money lately. How much was I worth? Who decided? How much did I need? What did I need, in the first place? Did Rs X have the same value for me as say, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan? Not in a transactional way (1 kg potato costs Rs Y for both Ash and me, barring variables of geography or scale like buying a truckload at a district centre and getting a better price… but I don’t think Ash or I would do that in a hurry) – but in real value? Would Rs X have the same real value for me 5 years later? For example, would I buy a rare book or a silk curtain or just milk for the dog?

One question led to another, and as expected, the trail led to the door of long-dead Greek philosophers. In their absence, here’s a working answer which I have the right to change the second I finish writing this article.

Money is work. Work is experience. Or rather, the quality of experience. So, money is the quality of experience you undergo to earn it.

This is of course highly subjective and highly debatable.

Subjective because experience is intrinsically unique – you and I might do the same work with the same quality of finish, but our experiences might be radically different because we’re different people with different DNAs and different acquired knowledge and (I like throwing in this banal phrase occasionally) different levels of spirituality.

Debatable because a human rights activist might (rightly) accuse me of ignoring the less privileged. (‘You’re elitist! What about street children? What quality of experience are you talking about? Do they have a choice?’) A debate I intend to wriggle out of effortlessly by stating this is for working professionals with the moral and intellectual ability to identify choices and the occasional willingness to act on them. (Er… street children are working professionals too, but it’s 3am and I’m off to make some more coffee.)

So, to get back to the point, how much is my apartment worth? Let’s see. I’m paying EMIs, lots of EMIs, and will be paying them over the next 20 years. Each EMI is about 1/6th of my current monthly salary. Now I can state with absolute certainty that I spend at least 1/6th of a working day doing absolutely nothing. Just trancing out into alphaville. Staring at the dirt under my nails, that sort of thing. There’s no quality of experience simply because I’m not thinking. So if the experience is zero, then the money I earn doing it is also zero. Thus, the real worth of my apartment is also zero. And I wouldn’t be too upset if a tsunami hit it this evening, provided there was no loss of life.

Questions like ‘But you’re really happy and working and productive the other 5/6th of the time? At least 1/6th? What if your apartment is financed by that experience?’ might be asked by those brainwashed in the philosophy of one Rene Descartes. To them, my answer is ‘I decide, therefore I am.’ We’re treading very subjective ground here. Besides, Descartes’s cause-and-effect theories are possibly out of date.

It boils down to this: X quality of old experience should be worth X quality of new experience if not more, never mind the price tag. If you had a great time for an hour and earned Rs 5000 as a result, then think carefully before you slam down that Rs 5000 for a pair of sunglasses. Will it give you the same returns, in terms of quality of experience, for at least an hour? Sounds ridiculous? Now what if the sunglasses were worth Rs 50 and look great, does that change the axis? In my book, no. I would still go by quality of experience including time spent, not the cost. So if the glasses were worth Rs 10000 and promised at least an hour of the original joy, I’d go for it. But then I don’t like sunglasses. I don’t like most ‘things’, most labels, so perhaps it makes it easier for me. Less angst.

That’s my working philosophy for the day. It might not work for you. It might not always work for me either. But it’s a different path I’m willing to walk on, at least part of the way. It forces me to question the real value of my experiences, of my life. And that’s fun.

I didn’t give the autowallah Rs 500, finally. I realised giving him Rs 20 instead of the Rs 15 he asked for, meant a certain quality of experience for him, a certain joy.

In fact my joy of getting home earlier and playing with my daughter = his joy of getting an unexpected tip after a fruitless journey. Small, but very meaningful.
What guarantee did I have these joyous experiences would suddenly be enhanced, with a forced-on price tag? I don’t like Descartes, I told you…

New Advertising Briefing Format, courtesy Delhi Police

There are occasional discussions about briefing formats. A thought just struck me now:

A brief is essentially a friendly interrogation of the brand and the circumstances it’s in, with the objective of figuring out a way forward.

Now, forget advertising, put yourself in the shoes of a Delhi police beat cop.

It’s 3 in the morning, and you’ve just stopped a car with a couple inside. These are the questions you would ask:

‘Kya naam hai tera? Kya karte ho? Sach sach bata.’

‘Kahan se aa raho ho? Ghar kahan tera?’

‘Licence dikha.’

And finally, if things have gone well so far, you ask with a pointed gaze:

‘Yeh ladki kaun hai?’

Now let’s see this from an advertising context.

What the cop was asking is: What’s the brand/product and what does it do? What’s the history and what’s the specific marketing task at hand? Show me proof of what you’re claiming, why should the consumer believe you? What advertising has it done so far, are there any mandatories/guidelines?

The ‘ladki’*? She’s the excess baggage, the multiple objectives of one single brief, not a happy situation. (eg., ‘We want to say we are No.2, we want to say we are better than No.3 and we want to say we are for NRIs living in Japan – all get equal importance’)

So, one either has very good reasons to defend it (‘Kya bakte ho, yeh meri biwi hai’) or jettison it quickly (‘Ladki? Kya ladki? Arrey yeh kahan se aayi?’)

And oh, I forgot – ‘Paisa nikal’. Something we should never forget to ask, as advertising professionals.

Cheers.

*Sincerely apologise for being politically incorrect, but that’s a Delhi cop.

The Bhajji Affair - A Tale of Two Indias

There’s a deeper story in the Bhajji-Sreesanth affair. It’s a story of deep-rooted bias, of kowtowing to the system, and finally, of how power structures evolve in the ‘new India’.
At the onset, let me state Bhajji got what he deserved, I have no issues with that. Over and out.
Now let’s take a closer look at where Bhajji comes from. The only son in a family of five daughters, the head of the family being a petty trader/manufacturer of hand tools. Economically lower middle class at best. (Next time you see his mother’s living room, take a closer look – in spite of the new-found wealth, the former poverty shows.)
Now ask yourself why the guy practiced bowling at a single stump for three hours at a stretch, and then some more after turning on a neighbour’s scooter headlight, and the reason isn’t hard to spot. Survival.
I’m not trying to romanticise Bhajji. You’ve heard this story before. Perhaps it’s your story too.
Now let’s take a closer look at Sreesanth. His father is a retired LIC manager. His brother owns a music company. His sister is a reputed television actress.
Hardly a picture of deprivation. If Sree practiced for 3 hours bowling at a single stump, the thoughts of getting his sister married wasn’t top of mind, as I’m sure it was in Bhajji’s. (Politically incorrect, but that’s where the other India comes from.)
So we’re looking at two immensely talented individuals born on opposite sides of the street.
If Sree didn’t make it, he would’ve possibly joined his brother’s company. If Bhajji didn’t, perhaps he would have been another trader in small tools in a Jalandar mandi, struggling to repay his sisters’ marriage debts.
Fast forward to the present. What I’ll say will probably leave you violently shaking your head in disagreement, but that’s the way I see it.
Sree represents the inner circle of the establishment, to the manor born. He’s almost a page 3 darling, walking in the footsteps of Yuvi. There will always be an ‘old boy’ to protect his interests.
Bhajji was born fucked, in Springsteen’s mythical ‘Badlands’. He can barely speak English, forget social niceties. He’s been in the team for years, and is actually more senior that Sehwag – but will never be a part of the team thinktank. Even if he’s one of the most successful bowlers ever. Even if the page 3 types cheer as he walks the ramp for a fashion designer.
He’s not ‘us’. Period.
The analogy with an expensive school is startling. Poor kid slaps rich kid. Rich kid runs crying to class teacher. Class teacher takes him to the headmaster. Headmaster speaks to principal, who expels him: ‘This sort of behavior will not be tolerated in our school.’ What he really means: ‘How dare you, you son of a petty trader.’
There is, like in the present scenario, no attempt to engage both parties in a broader dialogue. No attempt to explore the core. No counselling. It’s medieval punishment, swift and severe.
Look around you, wherever your world is. It’s the same ‘Friends of Sreesanth’ who are in charge. Perhaps you’re one of them like I am, in a sense.
A nation led by wimps, by the ‘babalog’. Where any strain of rebellion, especially from ‘them’, is met by moral outrage. An intellectually timid mass of borrowed facades, with a flaccid penis at the core.
I just stepped out for a smoke (my office is non-smoking), to the lift area. I saw a hesitant young man step out of a lift, dressed in a cheap white shirt and scuffed trousers. He clutched a pink polythene bag close to his Rs 20 tie. I suppose the boy had come looking for a job, at one of the offices.
That guy is Bhajji. And ten years down the line, there’s an outside chance he’ll shout at a colleague, perhaps worse. And there’s a fair chance he’ll be sacked: ‘He crossed the line.’ Read: ‘He crossed our line.’

p.s. At the height of the clinton-lewinsky scandal, bill had an unlikely ally: 85% of the us black population. their point was, 'bill is one of us, he comes from the same background (single mother, poverty); and he's being victimised exactly the way we are by rich whites when we prosper'.