Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves
These words might have been written for Julius Caesar. But they were meant for Alyque Padamsee. The Colossus of Indian advertising, yes, the man who bestrode the narrow world of brands with ideas that were big, ideas that were memorable, impactful, and most importantly ideas that would sell.
Ad-man, theatre personality, delightful raconteur… Alyque donned many hats during his lifetime. His theatre productions Evita, Jesus Christ Superstar and Tuglaq were all wildly successful, setting new benchmarks for English theatre in India. Padamsee also played the memorable role of Muhammad Ali Jinnah in Richard Attenborough’s Oscar winner Gandhi. But it is Alyque Padamsee, sometimes also called the ‘God of Indian Advertising’ — the advertising genius, the maestro of brand success — that will remain his longest lasting legacy.
Padamsee created Lalitaji for Surf, Cherry Charlie for Cherry Blossom Shoe Polish, the MRF Muscle Man, the Liril girl in the waterfall, the Kamasutra couple, Hamara Bajaj, the TV detective Karamchand, the Fair & Handsome brand… over a hundred brands benefitted from his astute understanding of consumer insights, and gained his indelible stamp on their advertising.
In the over three decades that I have been in advertising, I have never seen clients quite as much in love with any ad-man. It was his show-manship, for sure. His larger than life presence. But it was also his ability to tell stories about the brand. Think through the brand promise; articulate it; conjure up images; think up personas; craft slogans; hum the music that would one day become the brand’s signature. That is how he created Lalitaji… some say in the image and mould of his own mother.
Astute, matter-of-fact, practical, street-smart, argumentative, real… the magic of Lalitaji revived Surf which would have died under the onslaught of Nirma. Quite the same, he created every-man’s muse, the half-nude, half-drenched Liril girl under the waterfall. He was not selling a bar of soap. He was selling sensuality. He was not selling a means to a great bath. He was selling hope, he was selling dreams. He created the magnum opus Hamara Bajaj campaign that was just not an ad. It was almost an anthem. The collage of images told the story not of a scooter, but was actually a true album of a diverse India, an India united by a two-wheeler.
But God too has his non-believers. My friend, famous researcher and strategist, Nary Narayanswamy has his views, not necessarily complimentary though. “He thrived in that world of advertising where people were launching in a protected market, consumption was geared to an urban elite set, and a westernised semiotics was the currency.
The brands you mention were all old, established brands, some at least as old as he himself. Name an Indian brand he built from scratch? Name a brand after the 80s when the market got to be competitive? Name a campaign that was really conceived in Indian language? As an institution builder, name some people who went on to build companies? It’s no accident that you (or I ) never worked in the then Lintas. It was a one man show, employed hired hands from MBA institutions. And even as late as 90s had Covenanted posts with exclusive toilets etc.”.
Nary may have his views. Perhaps somewhat true. But the finest tribute to Alyque for me is an obituary run by Emami last week in leading newspapers saying: “In life we loved you dearly, In death we love you still, In our hearts you hold a place, that no one could ever fill.” Not very many clients would ever do it for anyone else in Indian advertising. That I am sure. Alyque Padamsee, RIP. (The writer is a former president, Rediffusion, and ex-chairman, Dentsu India)