Up, Up and Away!!!

I know how it feels to have a cup of steaming java at 31,000 feet above the sea level in a compressed atmosphere at 880 miles per hour. It has taken me 22 years and a Godrej to scale this high.

It takes roughly one and a half hour to traverse a distance of 1200 Km. from Pune to the capital of India. I’d been to Delhi a month and a half back. While chugging along at 70 miles/hour in an unreserved compartment of Indian Railways, staring at millions of cubic meters of barren land interspersed with grass and watching the sun retire for the day, does hold some rustic charm, racing at 330 miles/hour is an experience that is hard to put down on paper.

Your nervous system goes for a toss/is in jeopardy and you seem to love every bit of it. This is no Disney Ride. This is for real and the massive piece of equipment that is carrying you doesn’t let you down (no pun intended). It helps if the captain has a sense of humor and doesn’t take his job too seriously. He may double up as a tourist guide of the skies. “To your right is the Arabian Sea;” and the 100000 pound liner obeys the pilot and swerves to the left at an angle of 45 degrees as gracefully as an eagle swooping down on its prey. But, for this debutant traveler the heart beats faster that it has ever known. The veins pulsate with the burden of that additional litre of blood and the stomach is home to a million butterflies.

A plane has to cover some ground before it positions itself for takeoff. Then, those peanut sized tires help turn the gentle giant a complete 180 Degrees. She “parks” herself on the designated runway. That’s her arena. She owns the road which will shortly take the beating of her weight. She is silent. Gradually, the engine gets worked up. She is panting. Like a raging bull, she awaits for the final ‘go’ from the control room. I anticipate the obvious. Suddenly, without warning, the engine gives out a roar which would humble a 1000 lions from the animal kingdom. Sitting at the ‘window seat’, I stare at the fins on the wings which close in giving her the perfect figure; the aerodynamics works at its best. A thousand and who knows, may be millions of cogs put together by a trillion gray cells work to get the airliner fulfill its purpose.

She races at 0 to 100 mph in less than 3 seconds. And in less than 30 seconds, the tires give away and we are suspended in thin air gaining speed to rule gravity. In a matter of a few more seconds, the clouds kiss the windows and the sun plays host, inviting you to roam about his territory.

Although the scene outside the window is breathtaking, if is quite difficult to stare away from the beatific airhostesses (Indian Airlines is an exception which believes that airhostesses are like wine.) when they come over to you fulfilling every petty demand of yours with a practiced smile that enamors you because no other beautiful stranger has greeted you with such put on sincerity for years together while on earth.

Once you get used to the skies, the exciting part of the journey ends. The plane is no more than a ‘flying Volvo’ taking you from Mumbai to Pune. Two hours later, you start descending. A concrete jungle captivates you and the buildings look like prototypes created by civil engineers waiting for your approval. Suddenly, within no time, they start getting bigger and my sense of not being a part of these mini massive structures gives away.

You are on land again. This is the true test of a pilot. All bike riders would agree with me that a good biker is judged by how well he uses his clutch in conjunction with the throttle which allows him to change gears without the pillion feeling the change. A pilot has a similar task on hand, the only difference being that a hundred pillions anticipate a safe landing and that the speed is only 300 times more than that of a bike on full speed on a freeway.

A perfect 10. Beautiful landing!

Back to the Basics - Dual existence

Taking a cursor from an old post of Havoc on the initiative taken by G.A.P to promote its jeans using iTunes, I believe the back to the basics class just had to happen. (Also due to the fact that I had to shed off my garb of the long-hiatus!)

Co-branding (also called Dual Branding) has become a rage in the marketing arena, with companies realizing that isolation is not after all the best policy. Buy a Filmfare magazine and get imitation jewelry free? What’s the relation? What’s the connection? Or free Duracell batteries with a magazine, which costs much lesser than the pair of cells? What’s cooking?

The markets of yesterday saw companies focusing on the customer thinking about "How can I promote my jeans?” The marketers today believe that the myopia needs to clear off to a "How do I define my customer?" approach. By saying, "defining my customer", i don’t mean getting back to classroom and assessing who the target consumer is. Defining a customer means more in terms of creating a persona for the customer, or rather shaping the customer.

Lets take a small example: Consider that i am a dealer who sells fashion accessories and jeans. One of my target customers would be the youth, who want to look hip. Now lets analyze this a bit more.

Customer Profiling - Fashionable India youth

Demographics: Age group of say 15 to mid 20s, SEC A & B max (SEC = Socio Economic Classification), atleast college educated

Psychographics: Fashion conscious, looks more to belong to his 'cult' or 'peer groups', wants to be updated with the latest gizmos in town - mobile phones, fashion accessories, computer and media related gadgets, ready to pay for a premium product which makes him look exclusive.

In such a case, we can certainly identify some items that he/she might be interested in:

Latest Mobile phones
MP3 Players
Cars / bikes
Branded clothing
Fashion accessories
Personal Grooming products
Latest eateries
Non-traditional cuisine
Discos/ lounges / places to party

So if I were a clever marketer, I would easily identify items or rather products, which would define or rather, shape my target audience. After all, a person buying designer jeans cannot live on bread alone! He would also look at other items that would add to moulding his persona or his “outer self”, which many a times also have an important role in defining the “inner self” or feel that one gets after using a product/service.

What the gurus say?

Kotler, Philip (2003) defines Cobranding as "two or more well-known brands are combined in anoffer" and each brand sponsors expects that the other brand name will strengthen the brand preference or purchase intention and hopes to reach a new audience.

Kafperer talks of co-branding being quite beneficial such that:

• Many line extensions capitalize on a partner’s brand equity.
• Brand extension success rates are maximized in the new market when co-branded with the reputed brand that has established in that market.
• Co-branding may help usage extension.
• Image reinforcement may take place due to co-branding.
• Loyalty programs increasingly include co-branding arrangements. The corporations are sharing the cost of loyalty programs; hence, the promotional costs to the companies are coming down.
• Co-branding signals a trade marketing operation.
• Capitalizing on the synergies among a number of brands is yet another advantage of co-branding.

Taking from the gurus:

In terms of defining the youth, a company cant perhaps do half as good as what two can, when they join hands… one of the positive take-homes from a co-branding exercise would be the fact that sales of a totally unrelated product would now help sell urs!

The advertising frat always laughed it off saying “Everyone knows that 50% of advertising goes waste – its just that you cant find out which 50% it is!”

Co-branding can be an effective medium to reduce ad-spend and still maintain more of “mindshare and heartshare”, as Kotler would put it.

Moving closer home - some Indian examples:

“Bharat petroleum corporation Ltd. (BPCL) has formed an alliance with Bank of Baroda (BOB) to launch a co-brand credit card Bharat BOB card. The deal works in favor of both the parties. BOB hopes to expand its current customer base. The bank charges 2% fee for this service. the petrol company on the other hand scores on customer orientation and an assured customer base.

Another Indian example is Diners club Citibank British Air ways card. Diners club has been providing the exclusivity of their charge cards through Citibank. The charge has to be paid every month and their targeted customers are business executives, who are mobile and frequently travel abroad. Diners club Citibank card along with facilities and privileges offered to a regular cardholder provides automatic membership to British airways executive club. Every Rs.50 spent on the card earns the holder one executive club mile and as such is a part of the frequent flyer program. This enables additional benefits to both the brands.”

The Final Word : I would say that Co-branding can be like a dual edged sword – G.A.P may well end up being generous with the iTunes downloads and end up not selling even a single pair of denims…on the other hand, the prospective customer would perceptually link iTunes with Music – with style – with class – with exclusivity – and finally with G.A.P…..what happens on the other side of the road…only time will tell.


Source:

Examples: Venkatesh, R. and Mahajan, Vijay. "Products with branded Components: An approach for premium pricing and partner selection” Marketing Science 16 (1997)

Guru-talk:
Kotler, Philip. “Marketing Management The Millennium edition” PHI pvt. Ltd.: New Delhi (2003)

Kapferer, Jean – Noel. “Strategic Brand Management” Kogan Page India Limited.: New Delhi (2000)

Gandhi and his sense of Humor

When Gandhi was asked by an Englishman, “Mr. Gandhi, what do you think of Western Civilization?” Gandhi replied, “Yeah, that would be a good idea.” The dreaded half naked fakir to the British, a barrister by profession to the world and a lanky bundle of hope to a million Indians knew a thing or two about humor, timing and his audience. His beatific toothless smile has been the most popular of Gandhi’s portraits. Gandhi was known to have a calm disposition. He seemed unruffled in the most impossible of situations which would have his detractors, mostly the Britishers (at least, initially) in doubt about their ability to poke fun at him.

Gandhi was a brand. He was the man with Harry Potter like glasses, a white loin cloth, and a bamboo stick longer than Gandhi himself. He could easily qualify as a mascot for Johnny Walker’s ‘Keep Walking’ ad campaign, says one of my friends. Robin Williams in one of his Stand-up comedy shows admired Gandhi for not introducing a range of clothing ‘Gandhi – either you are simply not eating or asking the British to!@#$ off’; ‘Gandhi – comes in size 1 and below!’

Gandhi was a freedom fighter and had an ideology similar to that of Christ, ‘Lord, forgive them, coz' they know not what they do.’ If I were to hear this as a child, I would have exclaimed, ‘Are you kidding me?’ But you realize as you grow up, Christ was serious. And that Gandhi was not always kidding.

Gandhi, according to me, disciplined himself to think out of the box. If he were to be successful in the elusive goal of getting the British to talk to the country to settle issues across the table, he had to be different. And he bloody well was. He was just dangerous enough to be trusted by his enemies. He stood his ground, however marshy it was, yet he never resisted arrest. He liked to walk and one of his marathon walks shook the Empire where the sun never set.

I am not a Gandhi fan and neither do I despise Gandhi. But, my mind will remember him. Gandhi is ubiquitous. Editorials like to talk about him. He is used as a metaphor in describing anything remotely associated with non violence on one hand and mindless philanthropy on the other. I will read about him in a newspaper or magazine hours from now and yet be intrigued by the man the nth time I read about his exploits. He is unique like every one, yet different in an outrageous way.

Harsha speaks for the Nation

Where’ve you gone, Sachin, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you

Over the years I have watched Sachin Tendulkar play cricket many times. I have marvelled at his skill, admired his work ethic and been taken aback by the unwavering dignity that has accompanied him everywhere, often in the face of some provocation. But now, more than ever before, I find myself experiencing a craving for his batting. I want to watch him play cricket because I want to take my mind off this tenacious shroud that covers and darkens our cricket.
Indian cricket needs some cricket. That is not the most elegant of sentences but it conveys the mood of all of us cricket lovers quite appropriately, caught up as our game has been with intrigue, mistrust and greed.

Never before has cricket itself been such a distant number two in the matters of the BCCI. They need it, but don’t care too much for it; like with the law and some of those that dabble in politics.
And our cricket needs to give those long on imagination and short on facts a holiday as well. Recent events have only confirmed that old philosophy — never let the truth come in the way of a good story. And so the mind has run riot, every action dissected, conclusions found and, where they don’t exist, created.

The old lab principle of experiment, observation and only then inference, is too outdated, too boring. Everybody wants a new spin on events, old theories have been dusted and revived, cricket should be on Star Plus.

Negativity has been assiduously searched and presented, where it has been tough the BCCI has come to the rescue. The fresh wind that blows old thought away has been pushed back, the sunrise that washes away a dark, unhappy night has been shrouded by a fog of poor intent. There is no happiness in our cricket, the bat has suddenly become a piece of wood as a sitar might in the hands of an uncaring baggage handler.

We need to get back to the truth and we need the joy back. We need the cricket lover to applaud and then wait in anticipation, to sigh and then wait again in anticipation. We need to tell the cricket lover: stop, don’t walk away, don’t turn your back on us. This is still a game of skill, of a twirling ball and a flourishing bat, of the heart in the mouth and even sometimes, of the shirt in the hand.

That is why I cannot wait to watch Sachin Tendulkar play again.
Indian cricket desperately needs a talisman; someone who signifies skill and honest effort; someone who can tell India to come and watch him and forget her worries for a while; a responsible man who puts an honest bat to a hardworking ball.

Indian cricket needs someone who worships the game, not the benefits that go with it, for there are such few worshippers at Annual General Meetings. Everywhere there are people looking lecherously at our cricket, eager to make the next penny, searching for the next rupee. And cricket itself, that simple game of bat and ball, of skill and effort, of brilliance and perseverance lies by the roadside, waiting to be noticed.

That is what I hope Sachin Tendulkar can do. I want to see him rock on the back foot and play that stunning drive through the covers, I want to see him take that little step forward and hit the ball past the bowler, I want to see him pull forward of square, come down the wicket and hit over long-off, cut past point, paddle to fine leg. I want to gape. I want to applaud.

Strange that such joy should mean so little in the face of that extra vote from the north or the west.

We’ve spent too much time on penny stocks of late. It’s time to look at the blue chips again. Hopefully it’s time to say good-bye to the prospectors and welcome back to the pilgrims.

I swear!!It's been soo bloody long....Cant wait for HIM to return!

- Harsha Boghle

Bhagwaan tumhaara bhala kare!

Recently I decided to analyze one of the most clichéd phrases used by beggars on the streets of Mumbai:

"Garibon ki suno, woh tumhari sunega
Tum ek paise dogey, woh dus lakh dega"

English translation:

"Listen to the poor, HE will listen to you,

If you give a paisa, he will give you 10 lakhs"

Firstly, I decided to analyze the much ambiguous statement as quoted by the beggar:

".......woh tumhari sunega" - here is it not too clear that the WOH actually means God, since neither of the lines clearly state that. Hence the source of the revenue to the person making the contribution is not known.

Time value of money: Finance grads will recognize the importance of the concept of time while talking about money, returns, NPV etc. As can be observed from the quote used, there is no mention at all about the time after which the so called "Dus Lakh" will be given to the donor. This is too ambiguous, since, even if we go by the market rates, getting returns of 10 lakhs for a paisa invested will take us ages to get!

I discussed the investment avenues possible with my dad, who came up with the following alternatives:

Investment Avenue----- Min/Avg. Returns---- Comments
Share market--------------- 20% ------------------No upper limit to your returns!
Equity Mutual Funds----40 – 50 %-----------------Depends on the market!
Debt mutual funds---------8%

Public provident fund---- 8%----------------------Your money gets locked for long!
RBI Bonds--------------------- 8%----------------------Very safe
Real Estate---------------- Cant say
Bullion--------------------- Cant say

We came to the conclusion that if we were to remit money to the beggar and God were to repay us, the beggar must be some sort of broker/sub-broker or agent for God. Now the more important issue in hand is about where God will be investing the money…..certainly I’m not undead to know as to what investment options are available up there. So I presume that God must be having a lot of black money that he wants to give away to “HIS CHILDREN” down here, so that he may not end up in hell himself!

Now another thingy that interests me is about what will happen if I were to actually receive my Rs. 10 Lakhs by donating 1 paisa. Assuming that I get the amount in a single year (highly impossible!), what will the treatment of that money? Certainly giving money to beggars does not count under any Tsunami relief fund contribution, even if Mr. Beggar were to be rechristened as Mr. Tsunami or Mr. Katrina or something like that. Also, I guess deductions under Section 80 C may not apply. So I believe I may have to pay tax for the money - around 30 percent on this amount (tax slab for any amount exceeding Rs. 2.5 lakhs is taxed @ 30%).

One technical question – so far, government has been taxing people for money earned on this planet, which has passed on from another human being. So if I were to beget money from a divine source, should I still be taxed? Also, I am infact adding to the circulation of money in the economy (assuming that I invest the money and not store it in my safe) – I should get a tax holiday!!! Vilasrao! Are you listening??? I want my money back!!!

Ok now one more important thingy – as discussed above, since we are not sure who the source of the remittance is, the only possibility (in case its not God) is the hand of the underworld. In that case, doesn’t this become like some sort of an illegal activity? Should we ban beggars? Or rather capture them and try out third degree torture? Maybe they`ll tell us where Dawood is???

Ok one more possibility just came to my mind – it could be lottery!!! Bhikari Chaap Super Lotto!!! Yeah and we`ll get some scratchy gal in rags to read out the lucky number as well, maybe…

Redefining the Queen's Language

Relish the next few minutes because they will set you rolling with laughter irrespective of the mood you are in at this moment.

During the induction process at a very well known family owned company, many speakers from various departments present their "power points" and some are not very proficient in the English Language. I've maintained a diary which has some of these misnomers -

A 26 year old guy is presenting about how the company practices Safety in all its manufacturing operations.... So, here goes -

'It does not does anything.'

"Are there stress in the workplace?"

'If we take decisions with stresses, can this happen?'

'Let's talk about fire. Whern it is small, you can control it.'

Initial 2-3 minutes in any emergency is very important'

'It does not leaves you with your responsibilities' What the presenter meant was that you cannot shy away from your responsibilities.

"A road is dugged up."

"Am I answering right?" What he meant was, "Did I answer your qusetion?"

Sign off statement - I wish you all the luck and (pause pause pause) safety things at Godrej.

Here are some one liners speech by the CEO of XYZ Infotech-

'It depends on how dynamically they want to push the business forward.'

'Not many people use it but.... there are some who use it.

'Information is available evey morning as yesterday evening.' What he meant was - "Information is updated every morning (on the server) and you can access the information of the previous evening)

'I am sure you are going to benefit this.'

My Personal Favourite - We have to delearn the people and then make them learn again. This comes from the VP HR

These men may send a chill down the spine of many a writer of 'The Economist', but they bloody well know how to do their jobs!!!

The Maximum City of INDIA!!!

Here is what I feel about one of the most beautiful books that I've read in the past two years!

Editors of popular news papers have started acknowledging the phrase, 'Maximum City' as synonymous with Bombay. If Harry Potter has enchanted the youth, Suketu Mehta's Maximum City has charmed many a reader with its beautiful account on the most sought after city of the second most populated country in the world.

Being a Mumbaikar (formarly a Bombayite), you are not surprised or flummoxed by the idiosyncrasies of the city that have been verbosely described in the book. But, you nod in acknowledgement to the author's opinions time and again as you can relate with this NRI who has painstakingly researched his first work.

A writer's uniqueness can be gauged by reading the first few paragraphs and more often than not one can safely predict what to expect in the subsequent pages especially if it is a work of non fiction. But, Maximum City can catch you off guard. The city of dreams is introduced to the reader in a very gentlemanly manner. The initial paragraphs obey the Queen's English rules. But no sooner do you reach page 11 than you realize how difficult it must have been for Suketu Mehta to restrain himself from using the language that the average Mumbaikar wants to read. What follows is a treat to the eyes and a mockery of the purveyors of authentic use of prose. Mehta respects the reader and writes in a colloquial manner. To an outsider, the book is incomplete without a Hindi English Dictionary.

How does one define Mumbai? Is it the gaping pot holed roads where a Mercedes would be humbled or is it the city of the poor which houses a fourth of its denizens on footpaths? Is it the place where the underworld and the police survive equally well even after having bullets for breakfast or a place where carnal opulence breeds the dance bars which satisfy the hunger of the elite and the thugs alike. Suketu Mehta has it all covered.

"For every selfish politician, there is a dedicated hero", Abraham Lincoln had announced about two centuries ago. Mehta reinstates this by dedicating chapters to Thackeray, the self proclaimed Godfather of Mumbai and Arun Lal, the man heading the city's Special Task Force, second only to the Scotland Yard.

The slime of the slums, the soporific bar girls dancing to the tune of 'ek do teen' in the wee hours of morning, the indomitable spirit of Sanjay Dutt fighting crime, lies and threats, the frighteningly under qualified censor board and the paragon of unprofessionalism - making of a hindi philum have merited huge portions of the book. To a person from Bombay, there is nothing new that Mehta has to say, but the matter of fact style that he chooses to word his experiences without glamorizing any of his trysts with different characters from the city is what makes the book so special.

Mehta makes writing look very easy. George Orwell would turn in his grave if he were to read some of Suketu's idioms. Had Satyajit Ray edited the book, a fourth of it would never have seen light of day. But I am glad that Mehta's Bombay is raw and real. I would not trade a single page of the book for its prolixity because every page fulfils its purpose, every view has been thought out loud and seconded by facts which the writer has diligently saved on his laptop which was a constant companion throughout his visits to the cops, the villages, the dons, the politicians, the footpaths, the dance bars, the hotels, , , , ,

None of the essays end with oomph or move you to tears and Mehta succeeds by following the theory of moderation. He could have allowed himself to be carried away and the book would have ended up like another hot selling fairy tale. Some of the essays may even seem incomplete and the reader would want to know how the life of the split personality, Manoj aka Honey ends, or what future has in store for the 20 year old Monalisa, the innocently mature prostitute. How long would underworld test the patience of Arun Lal? Though every essay has a distinct identity, it is not mutually exclusive from others. Yet every topic is laid thread bare and you allow yourself to get intoxicated and disregard other essays while reading one.

I loved it… You go read it!!!