Of Brands and Extension

On a lazy Sunday morning, you wake up to the ever-so-sweet aroma of freshly-brewed Bata coffee and amble your way to the washroom in your Britannia robes to brush your teeth with your newly acquired battery-operated Pepsi toothbrush. (wait, isn’t it tata coffee?!?)

And before you rub your eyes to check if you read right, let me cut to reality. ‘Brand stretching’ or ‘Brand extension’ is the next big marketing idea.

Famous brands often tend to piggyback on the success of their products to roll-out a slew of new products that may or may not have anything to do with the original product. The last couple of decades saw a mad race for take-overs and the companies are now under more pressure than ever to make sure the expensive acquisitions don’t bomb. The trick is to use the reputation and name of an established product to invade a hitherto new market. The advantage, as you must have guessed, is the phenomenal cut in the promotional and advertising cost, and less risk.

There are several success stories like the extension of well known comic/cartoon character to a merchandising machinery as is the case of ‘Winnie the Pooh’, and several consumer electronics brands like Panasonic, Sony and Apple are selling everything from mobile phones to plasma TVs. Closer home, Britannia forayed into dairy and bakery segments, while Amul started selling ice-creams and chocolates. And as retailing in India gets lucrative, the industry biggies start their own supermarket chain, cashing in on the brand name.

So what exactly is the flip side you ask? In the business jargon, they call it ‘Brand Ego-Tripping’. Extended brands fail to work when they forget what made them famous in the first place. Richard Branson’s Virgin that started-off as a record company, later on became a successful airliner. Thus, Virgin’s image as an ‘irreverent, fun-loving fighter for value’ was established. The problem arose when Branson decided to stretch the ‘lifestyle brand’ image to encompass vodka, cola, jeans and banking. Most of the products failed miserably as they did not fit the 'value-for-money' image. How many of us have heard of ‘Colgate Ready Meals’, ‘Pond’s Toothpaste’, ‘Harley Davidson wine coolers’ or ‘Levi’s suits’? These would have probably worked if the companies had decided to opt for sub-branding instead.

But the strategy seems to have worked well for Kingfisher, the desi answer to Virgin. And 'the king of good times', Vijay Mallya seems to have come a long way. From selling beer to packaged drinking water and calendars, starting a luxury airliner to dabbling in the hospitality segment - he's has done it all. And when the man in the dressing room, in the famous ad, breaks into an “Ooh-la-lalala-leh-oh” for Kingfisher mineral water (???) you know that the brand’s arrived.

Ah well, whatever works for them. For now, the successful extended brands are basking in their new-found glory.

And *three* cheers to Kingfisher! Hic-Hic-Hooray;-)

All the world's a stage...

You adored him for the perfectionist that he was; you detested him for expecting the same from you. You admired his authority; you hated his guts. You were overawed by his stellar vocabulary; you hated it when he made you read the newspaper everyday, much against your wishes. You loved the walk – upright, with head held high; before a few bypasses and haemorrhages reduced him to a mere mannequin. Despite all this you shared a special bond with this man, who in spite of being a couple of generations older, loved you more than he loved his son. And the feeling was mutual.

Watching Mr.Chari succumb to Alzheimer’s after multiple disorders was probably the toughest thing I’ve had to do. A brave man that he was, here was someone who had till a few days ago, had survived 3 major heart attacks, a couple of haemorrhages and a bypass surgery(when they discovered 8 blocks in the veins that pump in blood). For someone who had always kept busy, I can imagine the trauma he had to undergo after being confined to bed and losing almost all his sensory perception.

I quote Shakespeare here –

“Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

Mr.Chari, ultimately succumbed to dementia, with a final fatal attack of fits. The family was shattered. His long, valiant ordeal finally came to an end.

And yes, Mr.Chari was my grandfather – the man the family loved and looked up to.

Thatha, you will be missed.

“They are not dead who live, In hearts they leave behind.” - Hugh Robert Orr

Ah, the vagaries of life....

As a child, I thought I had it all figured out. I was smug with the little knowledge I had of the universe. I would paint, I would read, I would play, I would star-gaze and live a happy life in my very own surreal utopia. Like other regular kids, I was fascinated by the idea of flying and wanted to be a pilot, someday. Somehow, I felt, life was a lot more gratifying and a lot less complicated then. I am not sure if “the child is grown, the dream is gone” or if its still somewhere deep down waiting to find voice. I’ve never had my life fully planned out but I’ve sure thought about what I would want it to be like. Me and a few intimate friends would discuss at length a myriad topics ranging from high-school crushes to the dream job, the ideal guy to the perfect vacation spot. All said and done, destiny works in funny ways.

Strange I had to be reminded of the all this on a day I was least hoping to sit down and reminisce. Earlier this morning I was cleaning up some of my “junk”(as my mom would like to put it). But to me it is nothing less than a treasure-trove of things accumulated over the last 21 years, 3 cities, 3 schools and a college. As I dig deeper, I find hundreds of scraps and trinkets(as worthless as they maybe) treasured and kept safe for their sentimental value.

Notebooks with random notes and caricatures of teachers on them, paper scraps on which we played ‘Bingo’ during those soporific classroom hours, the score sheets of 'book-cricket' and mean comments on the meaner people – they were all there. The photocopies of the topper’s notes, ‘charulatha’(aka the local author) textbooks that remind one of the slog sessions the night before exams, certificates, autograph books, friendship-bands, photos of those wonderful times together, the keepsakes, the declaration of enduring love, friendships gained and kept, pledges to stay through thick and thin, promises broken, promises kept, good times, and the bad times – all came rushing in one sudden surge of nostalgia. School identity cards of the naive school kid, the awkward teenager and the 21-er on the brink of adulthood - these little things that remind one of the younger, happier, sunnier days. The days before you realized you lived in a bubble and pragmatism got the better of you.

I read these lines somewhere.

"I have no regrets for yesterday
Don't wish I'd gone another way
For all the friends who've come and gone
For all the choices, right or wrong
Black and white or shades of grey
Without them I'd not be me today"

As the cliché goes, time waits for none. Gradually the strings come undone. And as we become footnotes in some peoples’ lives, we meet others.

But as they say – “The show must go on.”