The Hindu Business Line : Lights, camera, action and the little master

STORY so far: Work life is many times busier than student days and I see myself studying newer things all the time. Marketing mini-course is one such. Something alien to CAs, I used to think of marketing, till I realise how no business can survive without it. We get experts to endorse our products, though the big-ticket ad bash would have a celebrity. In the meantime, I come across a hoarding for a look-alike product from a rival company. Did someone leak out info from the office? Is there an intrigue hovering around?

Episode 52

When the head is full of suspicion, you cannot trust anyone. So, when Gupta crossed me at the portico, it took a few moments for me to decide to say `hello' to him. And he did notice the pause. "What's the problem, Swati?" he asked, looking me in the eye. "It seems our ideas are getting stolen," I said with a sullen face. "Tell me, what," he insisted. I looked around and asked, "Do you think, Guptaji, these potted plants may have a bug planted inside them?" He shrugged helplessly. "Swati, looks like you have been watching too many cop-and-thief movies, of late." Yet, he obliged me by moving over from bushes and burly security. "I saw an ad from our rival for a similar product — the health kit," I told him. "And the very cricketers we had in mind are posing for them."

Gupta was visibly alarmed. "Our ad agency should have done their homework," he said, "before bringing those names to us and engaging us in elaborate brainstorming." I was more keen in nabbing the mole amongst us, so I persisted: "Guptaji, we should find out who is selling our plans to the competitor." He nodded but seemed to be busy thinking. After about a minute, he said, "Whoever it is, he or she is quite smart. We need to act fast without wasting time to go behind a phantom. I'm going to the Department of Company Affairs to meet the new Registrar. We'll meet after about an hour, in the canteen."

*********

I didn't waste time when I reached my desk. A few phone-calls to the rival company, posing as a prospective customer, and I had all the details about the advertised product. (Ah, what a travesty it was, of features.) Price. (Oh, so much for so little!) Support. (They were still working out.) Knowhow. (Company R&D, they said, but didn't state which company.) Trials to check for side-effects? (They were waiting for feedback from customers.) Another call to their agency, as if I were a new company looking for a good professional outfit. (They oozed out all their goodness — how they discovered the right message for the product, why the players they had chosen were the most ideal for the endorsement, when they are getting nominated for the ad awards for the promo and so on).

My scribbling pad was full of jottings and I held a small mirror before my face, apparently adjusting my makeup. But, in fact, I was checking if somebody was monitoring me from behind. Disappointingly, there was none, but attender Kumar who came that way remarked: "Madam, I know what you are doing. Reflecting sunlight onto the cashier who is dozing in his chair. Ha-ha."

*********

Gupta and I settled down with a coffee. I showed him the notes. "You should be in the CBI," he said. "Are you sure your targets didn't know your number?" I had considered that possibility. With caller-id being so common, it was quite probable they could track my number, which is why I had used for the investigation the cell phone of my friend in the apartment block.

She is a housewife and had wanted me to give the mobile to the service guys to check some of the jammed keys, but before that it came in for good service. And with the ongoing revolution in telecom, call charges are not that high that I need to feel too guilty depleting somebody else's balance. Gupta thought deeply, drained his cup and rose abruptly: "Come, let's go to the boss. Now."

*********

It was not only the AC that was cool in the boss's cabin, but he himself seemed so poised. "Sir," I blurted out, and looked at Gupta. He began: "Sir, we may have a problem with the ad campaign." The boss was not perturbed. "Sit, both of you." I sat at the edge of the seat, which is how you watch cliff-hanger movies. "That agency we tried out this time has a director common with the outfit that does the campaign for our rival."

Well, that explained everything, I thought. "What do we do now, sir?" we asked. And the plan that emerged over the next about fifteen minutes was breathtaking.

*********

Everything went as we had envisaged. In the place of the players we had originally pitched for the commercial, we had none other than the master blaster, fresh from his Hyderabad achievement, where he added one more century to his bag. The Indian Guns boomed and the Kiwis succumbed without a fight not knowing what hit them, and the packed crowd dizzied into a dance of celebration in the Lal Bahadur Shastri Stadium.

When we confronted the ad agency with the conflict of interest that was plaguing their work, they went out of the way to make amends for their lapse. In a schedule that was packed to the last half-minute, the TV commercial was shot in one of the most sophisticated studios in the city.

On the way from the airport to the shooting spot, I briefed Sachin about his lines. "Hey, I am fit!" he repeated after me. "Fit on a higher octave," I suggested. "Is it all true, Swati?" he asked me in a hush. "What?" I queried back. "That your product will give all the stats?" he wanted to know. "That's right," I said. "Don't sell it to the Aussies." He was jesting, I knew.

**********

At the mailbox: Jammula Kishan writes: "The article published last week was a perfect continuation of the previous episode. It met exactly what I was expecting. Hope to see more articles from you. Keeeeeeeeeep writing." About three weeks back, Kishan had written: "I read your article and it impressed me in such a way that I am mailing you immediately. The small information that was missing in your article was your office name — with that info your article would have become ad for the product. Byee." Thanks JK.

Now, this one from Ritesh Sanklescha is making me sleepless: "Hi, I'm a guy in need of a good friend. Whenever I see a female's id I send them mails. But very rare I get reply. If I get also, not more than 2-3 weeks. After that they disappear. So what should I do to get a real friend? And that too I'm in need of a good practical gal. I don't like emotional gals. So please reply soon. Waiting for your reply." Pity, you may have to wait a bit too long, Ritesh.

(To be continued)

Swati_CA@hotmail.com

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