Not thinking about that. We werenotthinking about that.
‘… Diwali begins a tradition worth inheriting.’ The man turned to Jai, half-hopeful, half-uncertain.
‘We’ve seen iterations of this before,’ Jai said, and the man’s face fell. ‘It leans heavily on nostalgia and doesn’t offer anything new from a narrative or branding perspective.’
That’s harsh.But based on my three years of marketing experience (though I’d never sat in an important meeting like this one), I couldn’t disagree.
The man nodded stiffly and sat down.
‘We can rework the angle,’ Jyoti, the senior strategist, said. ‘Focus more on reinvention than legacy alone. Give it some more punch.’
It would still lack that X-factor. This was House of Advani Couture, designed by none other than Suraina Mukherjee. It deserved grandeur, elegance and poetry.
‘Maybe we need a fresh idea altogether,’ Suraina ma’am said. ‘This season’s line is some of my best work. I want the campaign to reflect that.’
Really?I needed to see it.
‘We need to finalise an idea today.’ Jai’s tone left no space for any negotiation. ‘We’re already working on a tight timeline. Any more delay will compress post-production, and I’m not losing our campaign window.’ He looked around the table.
‘We could build it around craftsmanship,’ someone suggested. ‘Introduce the artisans, behind-the-scenes footage, a “karigar to customer” kind of idea?’
Jai remained silent, fingers tapping the desk.
Over the next half hour, ideas kept coming, but Jai barely reacted. Eventually, the energy waned. A mix of frustration and disappointment thickened the air.
‘These things take time, Bhai,’ Ayaan said lightly. ‘Unless someone has a genius idea hiding under this table.’
That drew out a few half-smiles, elevating some of the pressure.
‘I’m not asking for a detailed plan. But we need a strong direction to build on before we wrap this meeting,’ Jai said evenly, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath.
Mannequins in a semi-circle. Spotlight on the outfits. Works of art. Meera Kumar’s studio flashed in my brain.
An idea took root, but I grew hesitant.
Jai’s face was unreadable, but tension radiated off him. He wouldn’t want me to give my two cents, as usual. And this open-table offer for ideas wasn’t meant for me.
What if he berates me in front of everyone?
My gaze slid to Suraina ma’am. She looked exhausted, a hand massaging her temple.
If he did it in front of her, I’d never recover.
But what if he didn’t? What if they liked it? I’d impress Suraina Mukherjee! And rescue everyone from this purgatory.
‘Does no one have a good idea?’ Jai asked.
Fuck it.
‘House of Advani Couture is a work of art,’ I said hesitantly. ‘And the campaign should be exactly that.’
Jai’s eyes snapped to mine. For a second, I thought he was going to shut me down as he had in front of Meera Kumar. Like he always did. But he didn’t speak. Just watched me, waiting.
I pressed on. ‘An installation in a palace or a gallery. A room dedicated to one day of Diwali, and each piece presented as if it were a part of the archive. Like we’re showcasing our future legacy.’ I paused, unsure if I was rambling, but no one stopped me. ‘The space can reflect the theme – saffron and rose tones for Dhanteras. Terracotta elements and rustic textures for Govardhan Puja.’
The room fell into a hush.
‘I like it,’ Suraina ma’am said, a slow smile forming on her face as she nodded.
