Wednesday 25 February 2015

The Day I Snatched A Blind Man's Walking Stick!


The Day I Snatched A Blind Guy’s Walking Stick!
- Ashish Patil -



This was sometime in 1994/95. I was working for SSC&B. The new creative hotshop that Lintas had set up. I wanted to be close to creative and in those days, the only ‘creative’ options were Advertising. [TV, radio, films or for that matter digital weren’t really serious or stable options then as they are now.] The advantage of working in advertising – even if I had crossed over to the ‘dark side’ of Account Planning/ Client Servicing from Copywriting [I had to get a ‘real job’] – was that you occasionally got a shot at writing the odd headline, a tagline, a one-off radio jingle or more. And the kick of seeing something you’ve written up on a hoarding or a half page press ad was incredible! For a 21 year old, starting out on his career, it was like you’ve been given the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Abby’s [yeah yeah, I know it’s the GoaFest now.]

Lintas had a division called SOMAC [Social Marketing Advertising & Communications] run by a wonderful lady called Gulan Kripalani. This unit did all the CSR work for the brands Lintas handled. And some of it’s own. And as NGO units are run, they’re non-profit organizations. They’re not meant to be non-profit themselves, but they often are ;) So you get your work done through favors, influence, ‘leaning on’ people and more. But you get your work done! SOMAC also had a couple of hoardings across the city. Chowpatty/ Marine Drive/ Babulnath temple. High traffic locations in Mumbai. Like those traffic/ road safety creatives that Karishma advertising [that was a really cool agency that did some kick ass work @ralphcrasto will bear me out!] used to do – though the new ones are all shit. Each creative got a 4-week window. Base exposure needed for a campaign, besides the fact that it was unaffordable to repaint hoardings more than once a month.

Just like everyone knows how disability/ pro-social communication & stories are award magnets – look at the Oscars® – it holds true even in advertising. So every creative guy [including the not so creative creative guy] would love to take a crack at a campaign every month for SOMAC. Big advantages were that…
a) You’re not working from a [usually shit] brief – you’re writing your own brief!
b) There’s no client approval necessary, feedback of “logo badaa karo” or “Issmein wo nahi hai yaar”
c) You’re guaranteed a release so you can enter all awards – don’t need to pay Meghalaya Midday to get a release out!

So I also thought I should take a crack at this. And wrote a hoarding for World Sight Day. My very dear friend @amardeb was creative head at SSC&B then. He was always very supportive of even ‘those client servicing people’ trying to be creative. Amar really liked the idea I’d cracked and got the very talented @maheshgharat who was a junior art director then [but is now Very Very Senior Creative Director at Ogilvy for South Asia, Intergalactic, Milky Way and some parts of a new yet to be discovered Galaxy Far Far Away] to even do a layout for me. And what do you know, suddenly the idea looked even cooler. Excited, I took the ad to Gulan at SOMAC. And she liked it. But… I sensed a ‘but’ coming. And sure enough, she said, it’s great, BUT it’s the classic advertising creative trap. Great creative, no action. Even if it moves me to want to act, I have no way to know how. And you’ve lost a genuine opportunity to create impact. The agency and advertising in general is full of people who want to do lip service. And don’t really give a shit. Don’t be that guy. Not so early on in your career at least!

Gulan
Amar

Mahesh

Lesson #1: Ideas without Actions AND Results are pointless

The other thing she did – not in a Senior Management Way – was she threw the problem back at me, but did NOT give me the solution. She told me to think about it, figure it out and come back as she’d love to run the ad in the coming month itself if I could nail this action bit.

I was as irritating & persistent then as I am now – ok maybe a little lesser then – and decided to go at it. And in those analog days of no mobile, digital, etc., when having ‘Rediff.com’ on your media plan came out of the ‘innovation’ budget… the answer sat in plugging in a simple helpline you could call to donate your eyes or at least get more information on. I got to work. Went through the Tata Press Yellow Pages. I made some calls. And sourced out the most respected set up that could be the answer – NAB [National Association for the Blind]. And pulled the correct helpline number. Besides ratifying the same with the NAB guys. I wanted to go a step further, so I managed to get a conceptual nod from NAB to also have their logo carried if we chose on the ad so that it added some credibility to the communication. I took it back to Gulan. She was thrilled and said let’s go for it. The hoarding had to go up in 2 days.

NAB
Lesson #2: If you really want to teach someone something then don’t spoon feed them… guide them, but let them figure it out on their own. [The parallel of ‘give a guy a fish and he’ll eat for a day Vs. teach a guy how to fish and he’ll never starve’. Btw, I’m vegetarian.]

The only catch was basis Lintas systems & procedures; I needed to get an NOC from NAB to carry the logo. By that evening. 4:30pm to be specific – as accounts closed by 5pm – if the creative had to go up in time for the new month. Shiiite! Ab itni duur aakar, I was not about to give up. I called NAB’s head office. And dropped every name from Alyque Padamsee, Prem Mehta to some fabricated foreign sounding names. I think I used Steven Spielberg as well. I was worried about the bureaucracy, pace of movement at NAB that could deprive me of my Academy Award®. They had not heard of any of these names and were clearly unimpressed. But, irrespective, were kind enough to put me through to the Chairman of NAB. I gave him a background to this. He patiently heard my requirement and me out for the NOC. And simply said, no problem. Come on over, carry the draft, he’d sign off on it. Bingo!

Given I was working on a crazy deadline, and the fact that I’m geographically challenged [I often get lost getting to the bedroom from my own loo!] – I asked him if he could help me with directions to get there.

This was my introduction to the world’s first Human GPS service. He asked me a set of very specific questions. Where am I coming from? What time do I plan to leave? And what’s my mode of transport? [Bus/ Taxi/ Car/ Train/ Walking, etc.] He said he would guide me accordingly. I used to ride a bike in those days. What followed was the clearest set of directions I’ve ever received. [If only all clients, partners, artistes or people in general could be so clear in their communication/ feedback – the world would be a better place!] It was really like the navigation voice talking me through every twist, turn at every meter. It was incredible. Cross Nehru Planetarium on your right. 20 meters, right at Mela restaurant. Hit Worli sea face. That as I’m on a bike, there’s no parking, no right turn. So use the gol-chakkar further up. And after 8 buildings and 1 mosque, I will hear a beeping sound. This is a low decibel beeper kept to guide the blind school students who work here. So to keep my ears open for that. Once I’m in the gate, and I cross the 2nd door on the right which will have a Maharashtrian guard at this time, I should come to the 1st floor – Apologies lift is not working today – get to the 3rd cabin on the left. It will have a very big and embarrassing placard that says ‘Chairman’. I should walk right in.

I could visualize everything as I rode there. Literally playing out just like he described. I got there and peeked into the Chairman’s office [and it was a large sign – hung lower for a reason – it also had a Braille tag to it]. I saw a middle-aged gentleman, in a safari suit, grey hair at a desk. And as soon as I knocked, he flashed a really warm smile at me and got up to greet me, shake my hand, bring me in. He looked straight into my eyes as he said, “You must be Mr. Patil… come in, come in. Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.” I was thinking to myself – after those directions, I could have found my way to the moon. But was just getting over someone calling a 21-year old ‘Mr. Patil’. I told him to please call me Ashish and sat down. He said I seemed even younger than I sounded on the phone. He offered chai/ coffee but I told him I was in a rush, as I needed to catch this deadline for the hoarding creative. He then opened a jar of some ‘special kela wafers [banana chips]’ – he said meetha nahi toh kuchh moonh namkeen toh karo! Telling me how he loved these knick knacks and afternoon chai is incomplete otherwise. He thanked me for doing this for them. I pulled out the NOC and handed it to him. He pulled a pen, signed it. Made a call and asked someone to get an NAB stamp. After stamping the letter, neatly folded and handed the paper back to me. I needed 2 copies, so asked him to also sign the second one that I’d kept on his table. And he started fumbling to find it.

That’s when it hit me! He was also blind.

The specific directions, some of his statements… ‘seemed’ vs. ‘looked’ even younger, etc. all came together. I was just speechless for a bit. With just his attitude to life. His jokes. The efficiency and speed with which he moved. The way he was talking to his staff and even to the office boy who brought the stamp and pad in. The passion with which he was talking about NAB and what they were doing. About the newly set up Braille printing press & library. What they were trying to do to make blind people independent. And more. I sat, listened. He signed the second paper. I thanked him. For not just the NOC but for more than he knew. I rode off happy. Blown away. And changed for life.

With how a blind man taught me how to see.



Ps: The hoarding did get approved, painted and mounted in time

Pps: I sent a large packet of assorted chips for the afternoon chai-naashta at NAB after it finally went up

Ppps: The hoarding read as follows:

SNATCH A BLIND MAN’S WALKING STICK!
Give him your eyes instead.
[The number you call to donate your eyes followed with an NAB logo]

Pppps: I didn’t win any awards. But I felt really good about this.