Simplicity: Why less is more in advertising

If you are in advertising, you must have seen this iconic ad. If you haven’t, you are probably not in advertising.

Simple enough?

The whole charade of advertising and branding is based on one foundation; simple timeless truthful insights! In every flattering advertisement which sneaks into your drawing room and draws your attention to it, there is a simple truth masquerading as a gripping story, tongue-in-cheek joke or a melodious jingle.

We are the species who have evolved with a predatory, result oriented thinking. Our ability to break a complex situation into simple to-do tasks, to comprehend it in a better way has helped us to come to this level of sophistication.

Now, with the rise of consumerism, we are ever inundated with choices. The more choices we have, the more are we confused. Advertising here comes handy as a thinking tool. But with the fleeting attention span of today’s smartphone generation and passionate pop music loving hipsters, interrupting key audience without overwhelming them has become a herculean task for any form of advertising.

Why less?

We communicate to connect and not to confound. When I say less is more in advertising, it means that people will eventually understand the crux of your message and ignore the bubble around it. You have to believe that an idea is like a sprout, enough to grow into a big tree and grow its roots into the mind of the consumer. A  handful of rice can tell the quality of the rest in the sack.

Even in the world of marketing, where talking and storytelling is everything, people are waking up to the fragrance of simple, minimal ideas. And, it becomes more important in a post-modern world, where people are thinking in flashes and notification updates. The world where news, information, and data are pouring in and out, only the right advertising can help people choose wisely.

Think right. Think Less.

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Once upon a time…..

कहानी सही या गलत नहीं होती,

वो बस होती है कहे जाने के लिए…

उसे बस इंतज़ार होता है उस लम्हे का,

जब उसको कोई कद्रदां मिलता है….इन्तहा हो गयी इंतज़ार की...

क्या कहानी ज़िन्दगी है? या फिर ज़िन्दगी के पन्ने या पन्नो पे उकेरे काले-नीले हर्फ़

जो वक्त के साथ बिसर जायेंगे…
पुराने पत्थरों के संगीत में गुम

फ़साने हैं तो फसने-फसाने के तमाशे हैं/

रोते हुए बच्चे की हथेली पे

कागज़ के बताशे हैं/

पेट नहीं भरता सच है पर

दिल ही भर आये तो क्या बुरा है?

बड़े अहमक हो मियाँ , गुलामी पेट की करते हो और वफादारी दिल से रखते हो!

और अंत में:
किसी घाट पर कथा बांचते मिलेंगे हम भी!
काक उवाच –

” एक समय की बात है , एक समय की बात है,

बड़े दिनों से सुनता आया , एक समय की बात है/

चिता-भस्म का लेप लगाए,धूनी रमाये ,गाता जोगी,

एक समय की बात है , एक समय की बात है/

सहज जन्मा गीत कोई या ढोल की एक थाप है,

एक समय की बात है , एक समय की बात है/

ताज गिरते,राज बनते, किसकी शाह और मात है,

एक समय की बात है , एक समय की बात है/

एक युगल है प्रेमी पंछी और कहीं इक व्याध है,

एक समय की बात है , एक समय की बात है/”

Photo Credits:http://unsplash.com

The Childster

A Sunday Read:An experiment that will go on for 9 more weeks!What I need is your engagement and reviews (and 4-5 minutes from your precious Sunday;))
Presenting a thriller series which captures loss of innocence and delves into the psychology of a criminal mind which cannot differentiate between varying moral standards of our society !

Happy Reading!:-)

 

Chapter one. That night.

May 5, 1979.

In a dilapidated small town where any activity ceases just before darkness descends, news of an upcoming storm decimate any further chances of gathering at corners, squares and roads.

Meteorologists say it’s a cyclonic wave happening due to western disturbance in early monsoon cycle. Whatever be the reason, this hamlet is going to get drenched in heavy shower after a long blistering, hellish spell of hot summer days.

Pale Light of flickering halogen street lamps and a hazy ambiance created a different view across Sandhurst colony road. Not a person lingered on road.

Image Courtesy: http://unsplash.com/

A way leading to Diamond Lake was covered with fronds and bushes. This was a shortcut which leaded to officers’ colony. Nobody knew why it was called Diamond Lake for it neither had shape nor any history of diamond extracted, founded, discovered in any recorded history or preserved folklore.

Just right, there was an alley which curved into another colony, very near to collieries, also popularly known as bhetnar colony (veteran’s colony), ended on a small English Bungalow “Manumit House” which resided many government officers right from 1920’s to late 80’s. Official name of Veteran’s colony was S.M. Worliker’s colony, named after an officer and overseer in near collieries who was sent on behalf of Government of India,just after coal blocks across nation were centralized. Worliker worked for the well-being of mine laborers and advocated their best interest. It was he, who helped migrant laborers settle down in a ghetto near Diamond Lake, just behind veteran’s colony. Migrants who wanted to seek help about anything and everything came to Babu Sahib for their day-to-day problems. No surprise, they started calling it Bhetnar colony (Veteran’s colony) where one gets possible and applicable solutions of one’s problems.

But more than migrant’s slum or British bungalow and colonies; this town was famous for railways and gypsies. Earlier, these gypsies used to stay on the very place where present Bhetnar colony is. As coalmines got discovered, these people got displaced from their habitat. After all, everybody knew, Gypsies don’t have a permanent place to reside and that’s a perfect excuse for British authorities, in those times to demolish their homes. Folklore says these people used to carry diamonds and precious metals which sustained them to live opulent lives during one time but when English People demolished their settlements, they threw away their belongings in the Lake. Nobody has bothered to check or substantiate claims made by older generations till this date.

Nowadays Gypsies have their settlement on the far corner of city. Just at the place where earlier railway lines used to be, near to the end where a small tributary juts out from the famous Diamond Lake.

tumblr_mzzqzbLVlr1st5lhmo1_1280

Drizzling started. A ripple in lake water has disturbed small fishes near shallow area. Croaking and Creaking noises are being suppressed by the whoosh noise of moistened wind.

A thunderous noise. Did lightning strike somewhere? But the sound came from “Manumit house”. People were perplexed but nobody was eager to go out in rain and check out what happened. Two more thunderous noises! Doesn’t sound like lightning but a gunshot. Seems like bandits are breaking into someone’s place?

Drizzle slowly turned into torrential rain. The same rain which was stopping people earlier could not stop them now. Curiosity is a better drive than courage. A group of people laced with traditional set of arms and umbrellas gathered around Rendezvous. The lawn was strewn with weeds and mud. A flash of lightning highlighted areas of lawn and facade of Bungalow. Crowd entered the room. There was a turret of thick blood mixed in muddled water splattered all across veranda. A bald man was lying dead on an archaic wooden chair.His eyes were wide open as he saw something sinister and unbelievable. More trail of blood was coming from adjacent room. A swarthy woman with an ashen face, half-conscious, spilled spurious blood and froth. Certainly not a pleasant view for any squeamish person but this wasn’t new for people residing in this place from years.The only difference in this scenario was a peculiar,acerbic smell.

A group of elderly men moved into backyard to search further. There was a child hiding in shrubs somehow unscathed.Awkward, fearful and in trance; a toddler who seemed too shocked to speak anything.The more they tried to extend helping hand, the more that boy cringed.

A group of boys spurted to nearest Railway police hospital for more help.

Incessant lightning, thunder and crashing rain turned the dusty road, which lead to Bungalow, into a necklace of puddles reflecting the turbulent sky, reminiscent of horror ordeals carried out in that stormy night.

Trance…

I have lived through gloomy days

Gloomy Days (1 of 9)
Gloomy Days (Photo credit: ricky_1146)

and creepy nights

01-21-06 Birdbath on a creepy night
a creepy night (Photo credit: Picture_taking_fool)

with a few dollops of confused evenings.

IMG_7813_Dark_Evenings
Evenings (Photo credit: neravaren)

I have cantered through Neon-lit streets

Dark street
Dark street (Photo credit: switon.michal)

just to scramble away from your halo

which engulfs me

during my drowsy walk by the sea.

I walk alone
I walk alone (Photo credit: shankar, shiv)

The Feeling….

am afraid to describe this,

Happy Weird Wednesday ;-)
Happy Weird Wednesday 😉 (Photo credit: *Psycho Delia*)

am ‘fraid the moment I tell ya,

you would simply cast me in a mold.

An unbreakable, unbearable one,

which stereotypes me,

which caricatures me…

I should better be in a trance

En=Trance
Trance (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

than living in that mold of purgatory .

Living!Yes..I have been and through it.

The Confession of a modern armchair thinker

 

March at India Gate
March at India Gate (Photo credit: Deepankar Raj)

मैँ अन्ना नहीँ हूँ…

 

Branded Satyagrah!With a better glossy finish.. (Pic Courtesy: Indianexpress)

क्यूँकि ये भीड़ मेरी घबराहट का सबब है/

 

 

freedom park, bangalore
freedom park, bangalore (Photo credit: vinay d. venkataramaiah)

किसी के जिन्दा या मुर्दा होने का शोर मुझे विचलित कर जाता है,

 

ये और बात है कि….

 

किसी के जिन्दा या मुर्दा
होने से मुझे कोई फर्क
नहीँ पड़ा अब तक /

 

Vijay Chowk at Rajpath, with Secretariat Build...
The Citadel of bureaucracy ,New Delhi (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

मैँ पुलिन्दोँ के पुलिन्दे काले कर सकता हूँ पर ..

 

Intellectuals Are the Shoeshine Boys of the Ru...
Intellectuals (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

अपने आका और आँकड़ोँ से उपर उठ के सोच सकूँ;

 

इतनी हिम्मत भी जुटा लूँ तो बहुत है!

 

भीड़ से अलग होने की एक बेचैन कोशिश हूँ,??

The Last Protest Singer
The Last Protest Singer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Satyagraha poster
(Photo credit: MarkWallace)

यही कारण है शायद मेरे अन्ना न हो पाने का।

 

-A transliteration from ‘The confession of a modern armchair thinker.’

An ode to expectation

बिखरी उम्मीदें कांच के टुकड़ों की मानिंद होती हैं….

Shattered Glass
Shattered Glass (Photo credit: ImageMD)

कोई मुफ़लिसी का मारा नंगा पांव इस ओर गुज़रता ही नहीं !

फिर भी हम उम्मीद का दामन थामे रखते हैं कि कोई तो बताएगा कि जाना किधर है ?

पर हेय मेन कोई नहीं बटाटा अमको 😥

Expectation
Expectation (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

दरअसल

अपेक्षाओं के गीत, उम्मीद की शायरी ज़िन्दा लोगों के फ़ातिहे हैं

के जब वो मरेंगे उनकी कब्र पर क़सीदे कढ़े जायेंगे

पर  जब तक जिंदा हैं, उम्मीदों के बोझ ढोते रहें.

उम्मीद , अपेक्षा ज़रूरी भी है.

क्यों भई?

क्योंकि …

उम्मीदों  के वार-दर-वार झेलते हुए आदमी खुद एक दिन उम्मीदवार बन जाता है.

holding hands
holding hands (Photo credit: kholkute)

सच है ,

अपेक्षाएं कांच के महल हैं  जिन  पर सारी दुनिया की नज़र है,

Glass Building
Glass Building (Photo credit: oatsy40)

उसका टिकना भी मुश्किल और जो बिखरे तो औरों का  गुज़रना भी मुश्किल.

उम्मीदें बड़ी भी हैं और गहरी भी ,

उम्मीदें छिछली भी और छोटी भी/

दुनिया के बाज़ार में हर चीज़ का भाव तय है,

Packed with Happiness
Packed with Happiness (Photo credit: Dee West (Formerly deedoucette))

उम्मीद भी अब पैकेट में आती है,

अपेक्षा भी गिफ्ट बन कर एक की कोट से दूसरे की जैकेट में जाती है.

काक उवाच :

Crow
Crow (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

‘आँखों की नुमाइश की मैंने ,

आंसू गंवई निकले , आँखें शहरी /

दिलों की पैमाइश की मैंने ,

दिल छिछले निकले , उम्मीदें गहरी ‘

All the world’s a stage

यथार्थ के धरातल का कठोर होना नियति हो शायद पर पुरुषार्थ का हाल तो बंजर में लकीरें खिचता है ….

Barren land
Barren land (Photo credit: Amr Tahtawi Photography)

-महान नायकों की तरह पुनःश्च कह पाने की हिम्मत कितनी है हम में

Amitabh Bachchan
Amitabh Bachchan (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

-शायद इसलिए वो नायक महान हैं क्योंकि जीता है उन्होंने …अपनी वासनाओं , अहम् , भय और दर्द को .

पर इनसे परे वो आम इंसान भी है …

India Gate 2
India Gate 2 (Photo credit: slazgrc)

जो डरता है ,

खुद से ,

समाज से.

-जिसका अहम उसके परिजनों पर भारी पड़ जाता है .

-जिसकी जुगुप्सा उसे पशुतर बना डालती है .

-जिसकी एकाकी पीड़ा इस निष्ठुर समाज के पल्ले नहीं पड़ती ….

Manual Laborer
Manual Laborer (Photo credit: Braden Gunem)

पानी  का  बुदबुदा क्षणिक होता है क्योंकि धरातल से वो जन्मता नहीं और सतह से ऊपर उठ नहीं पाता !

2010-12-27 7-17-58 AM - IMG_0865 Rain-drops on...
2010-12-27 7-17-58 AM – IMG_0865 Rain-drops on leaves (Photo credit: Degilbo on flickr)

यही बात तो इंसान पर भी लागू   होती है ….

महानायक सोचता है ,तारों भरे आकाश की  और पा भी लेता है उसे ,

फिर आसमां की ज़ीनों  से फिसल जाए तो कोई ग़म नहीं ,

Nishabd
Nishabd (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

एक खामोशी भरी मौत और जीने की कोई जिद्द नहीं .

और हम !!!

फांक -दर- फांक रस में इतने मोहासिक्त

के

टुकड़ा – टुकड़ा मौत मंज़ूर हैं पर जिजीविषा की कमी नहीं .

-संघर्ष को पहचानना नायकत्व की पहली सीढ़ी है .

अपने संघर्ष को पहचानो,

हर सांस में हताशा के मुंह   पर एक मुक्का जड़ दो !

Rocky V
Rocky V (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

ज़िन्दगी के रंगमंच पर अपनी भूमिका के साथ न्याय करना ही तर्कसंगत है ,

इससे कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता कि  सूत्रधार हम पर क्या टिप्पणी कर रहा है

या

निर्देशक ने इस नाटक का कैसा अंत निर्धारित किया है.

काक उवाच :

Shady Crow
Shady Crow (Photo credit: Jehangir Irani)

“हमको ग़ालिब ने ये दुआ दी है ,

तुम सलामत रहो हज़ार बरस ,

ये बरस तो फ़क़त दिनों में गया .”

(गुलज़ार)

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