...Duniya ek dulhan, dulhan ke mathe ki bindiya, yeh mera India, I love my India………lilted the lyrics on an FM channel, vying with the cacophony of ‘machine music’ in my royal carriage – the three wheeler — as the F1 auto-driver hurtled me along on the Delhi race track. A speeding SX4 rollercoasted past, bathing me in a rejuvenating mud shower at the next pot hole. A fleet of VIP white cars majestically manoeuvring its way on the nation’s pride –the BRT Corridor — and holding the traffic to ransom, further drowned my hope of making it to the office on time. Kya YEH mera India?
After a hard, chaotic day at the office I trudged back home in my evening lifeline — the museum antiquity — Bus No 520. I had rubbed shoulders with every piece of humanity from the fat Punjabi aunties, to the paan spitting conductor, to the Gau (cow) mata hibernating on the road to the friendly neighborhood mongrel who had mistaken my churidaar clad leg for the lamp post. I opened my creaking apartment door and sighed YEH mera India!
After a frugal bath, courtesy the Delhi Jal board, I sat down with a piping hot cup of tea in front of my stress buster — the idiot box. There was a riot of colours on the screen from red and yellow to purple; and a group of girls from the ‘70s told me Mitha hai khana aaj paheli tareekh hai... A collage of variegated shots from the majestic Qutub Minar to Jantar Mantar, to a cherubic young girl promised to see me in Delhi in 2010. At a paan beedi shop it seemed to be celebration time as Pappu paas ho gaya, an old Pappu turned around and asked me Kuch mitha ho jaye. From Bingo ka achari combination to the ekdum asli Indian nimbus; from the little handkerchief turbaned Sardarji going ‘vroom vroom’ with his Maruti 800 and telling you wonderingly Petrol khatam hi nahi haonda to the dignified Dadaji telling you Jeete raho, it was a colourful kaleidoscope of celebration. I walked across to the window and hummed to myself Yeh MERA India…
Have you noticed that eons after Mera joota hai Japani, yeh patloon Englishtani, sar pe lal topi Rusi phir bhi dil hai Hindustani, the road to India ka dil is still the same and a path well trodden. From the legendary Bulund Bharat ki bulund tasveer from the House of Bajaj to the Tum chalo to Hindustan chaley, the veneration of the spirit of India never fails to touch a chord with every Sunil Babu. Badiya hai!
The brand might be as Desi as a ‘Desi Beats,’ so the promise of No fun without desipann is as natural as Himalayan spring water. It could be a thanda thanda cool cool Navratan tel or haldi chandan se bani Vicco turmeric cream, or the yugon se aa rahi parampara ki pahchan, India Gate basmati rice. An Asian paint tells you Har ghar kuch kahta hai and SBI is the banker to every Indian. Here the message is simple and the glorification of the country of origin is natural. The diversity and multi-faceted beauty of the country, whether God’s own country (Kerala), Hindustan ka dil (Madhya Pradesh) or paradise unexplored (North East) is showcased for the world to admire…
Incredible India! The core value, the open arms and the welcoming spirit are the essence of Atithi devo bhava. The heritage of discovery, invention and contribution from Aryabhatta to Mahatma Gandhi is glorified in when you stand for what you believe in, you can change the world. At that moment you feel like Airtel — proud to be Indian.
Small wonder then that every pardesi, whether the traditional ‘Amreecan’ Coca Cola or the strappy Youngistan ka wow: Pepsi, want to woo Bharti — the Indian consumer. You recognise Amul as the ‘Taste of India’ and yet whether Cadbury (kuch meetha ho jai and now shubh aarambh) or Nestle (from natural yoghurt to yahi dahi hai sahi) do not fail to elbow in to the Indian rasoi. Whether it is Chevrolet Optra or Toyota Innova or — the latest to join the bandwagon, the Logan, everyone wants to make room for the kutumb and parivaar.
So the gyan is very rudimentary Mr Marketeer, you need to recognise the Sapnon ka paudha….rishton ki rangoli….. Duaon ki boli of the bade dil but Choti kholi wala Hindustani. You need to understand his sapnon ka ghar has to be apno ka ghar; cricket is his passion and Bollywood his dream; an expert political analyst and yet he is a pyara Pappu at heart, who exclaims enthusiastically Lock kiya jai! His house might be a little crowded like the Fevicol Bus; yet he will find space for you, his creed still remains Atithi devo bhava. Aisa hai mera INDIA!
The writer is professor, Marketing, International Management Institute
(IMI) Delhi