The Hindu Business Line : Festive fervour

IT is that time of the year once again. Marketplaces decked up with bright lights, balloons and buntings. The newspaper supplements are full of offers. Decibel levels are at their highest on television, especially in the consumer durables, jewellery and apparel categories. Yes, it is indeed festival time.

For marketers and their agencies, the months of October and November are the time to make a killing. This is when there is that upward blip in sales and billings; and because it is a time that is close to the end of the financial year, it is also a time to up the ante on meeting the year-end targets. But the niggling question is: will the consumer open her purse even wider this year?

To try and answer that question, it may make sense to understand how the meaning and practice of celebrating festivals have undergone changes in the last two decades. And no subject holds greater fascination for a cultural analyst than the most popular festivals of a society. This article is an attempt to highlight some of the important changes that we have observed across different parts of the country, in the manner in which festivals have come to redefine some of the ways people express themselves.

In traditional agrarian society, festivals coincided with harvest time. Money became available to families — to spend on essentials like cattle and clothing. In some ways, the promise of new things symbolised renewal. In urban India, the practice of the government and companies disbursing bonuses at festival time paralleled this welcome addition to a family's bottomline. This was essential to give the immigrant family the same sense of well-being. The splurge that followed, be it through the purchase of that long-coveted refrigerator for the housewife or the man's suit that would make him look good in the next office function, in many ways, marked the beginning of festivals emerging as the time to spend with little guilt. What we are seeing today is an exponential magnification of the bonus-enabled indulgence.

A good harvest was also reason to remember and thank the Gods for bounty bestowed, as well as keep Him/Her pleased so that the next year would be as prosperous. Today, the Gods are quite different. In a world that beseeches favours from acquaintances, the extended family and business associates, it is they who must be remembered and kept happy. Bribery (and I would call it nothing but that) rears its ugly head the highest during Diwali and Holi. The mountains of dry fruits, the boxes of real and faux crystal piled high on the pavements of markets disappear in no time to make their way into the homes of those who bestow privileges. And there is hardly anyone who refuses such tokens of `festive goodwill'!

Traditionally, festivals were celebrated at home. There were the usual rituals and fasts to be observed, new clothes worn, and blessings sought from both the divine and the respected members in the family. Roles of various family members were defined in the celebration, and the family deity assumed centre-stage. Sometimes, it was the inability of families to please the Gods in a manner that befitted them that brought several families from a neighbourhood together to stage community worship - the birth of the Durga Puja and Ganapati pandals.

See what form this has taken today! A festival is a spectacle. Hear the din that accompanies a Ganpati Visarjan in Mumbai, where the sorry 12-inch Ganpati statue is overshadowed by drum-beating, synthesiser-screaming, disco-dancing bunches of revellers who think disrupting traffic is their cultural birthright. A festival is more about the pursuit and admiration of opulence, and sometimes, craftsmanship. Hence, places of community worship are now referred to as (singer) Abhijeet's pandal or (politician) Suresh Kalmadi's Ganesh Puja. From a voluntary contribution to the humble puja, we now have sponsorships that pay for everything from the pandals that resemble the Gateway of India, Belur Math, Victoria Memorial or even, morbidly, the World Trade Center in New York, to the prasad that is served to devotees. It is those who collect the greatest amount of contributions that are voted general secretaries and presidents of the `societies' that stage such events (what else can you call them?)

No doubt, such a passion for opulence has made heroes out of the craftspersons of Pen (in Maharashtra, where many Ganapati statues are made) and Kumartuli (in Kolkata, home to Durga image artisans), as you see covered in almost every news channel in the run-up to the festivals. But every event needs a warm-up now. Enter the Diwali/Holi Mela, which create the perfect opportunity for families to loosen their purse strings. As many of these profess to be held for the benefit of the disadvantaged, they do provide some emotional balm in the times of splurge. Isn't it far cooler to buy those candles made by the blind students in the shadow of the Oberoi, than firecrackers made by the child-labourers of Sivakasi?

What festivals have succeeded in doing more than any economic activity is in bringing women out of their closeted homes. As the very arena of celebration had changed, it has brought women out, in a manner in which they can express themselves and strive for recognition. The various side-events that go with the main festival - the cultural programmes, the Ananda Mela preceding the Durga Puja where women from the neighbourhood make goodies and put up stalls, all provide them the opportunity to showcase talent that had hitherto been confined to appreciation only within the family. As such events are also organised by women, their `management skills' are also pretty much on display.

What is remarkable is that even the concept of shringar — an intensely private, personal activity for a woman — is being played out in the open, as women have no qualms about getting their mehndi done on the pavements of busy marketplaces. Such activities speak volumes about the confidence and gumption of today's women, undoubtedly enabled by festive occasions. Restaurants have been quick to cash in on the woman's desire to step out of her home and have as good a time as anyone else by offering the same sattwik, Navratra meals during festivals that her mother would have spent hours to rustle up.

In cosmopolitan worlds, festivals allow communities to reaffirm their ethnic identities. Look at the transformation of the corporate CEO into a Bengali bhadralok, as he ditches his pinstripes for a starched dhoti and embroidered silk panjabi. See how the sixteen-year-old exchanges her low-waist jeans for a lehnga, or a jamdani saree, and begins extolling the virtues of her aunt's homemade sweets as opposed to the chocolate mousse served at Mocha, as she digs into her dabeli or Kobiraji cutlet. Traditional songs, dances and plays are brushed up to be performed (and if I may add, evaluated by the purists — as I overheard a sixty-year-old criticise popular singer Shaan's Bangla accent).

Then there is the intermingling of rituals while celebrating festivals today. Traditionally, firecrackers have been burst at Diwali - to scare off the symbolic demons. The noise and sparkle they generate now transcends that festival, and one has to bear them during Ganpati Visarjan, and even Holika and Baisakhi. If people threw gulal at each other during Holi in celebration of spring, they now do so during many other festivals, just (I believe) to add colour to the festivity.

How can marketers benefit from these trends? First, they must realise that there are more ways of engaging the consumer than just offering deals that would make them choose their brand. After all, everyone does exactly the same thing. Doing a census of all Dandiya festivals in Mumbai, and then choosing a few to put up banners doesn't help either.

The opportunity lies in enhancing the festival experience, simply because that is what most people are looking forward to. Design the promotion to be community-/ ethnicity-specific if you are looking at cementing bonds. For instance, for a company in the grooming/apparel business it may make sense to give prizes to the best traditionally dressed person at a community gathering. A food company could sponsor the many Ananda Melas across a city and gain valuable association in terms of tradition. Or, introduce special festival flavours in its product line for that period.

If a company wanted to be seen as socially responsible, it could either employ an army of volunteers to regulate traffic during those chaotic visarjans, or do a campaign against noise pollution during Diwali (and suggest alternative ways of celebration). If ours is a nation that is characterised by the saying Barah maas, terah parab (`Twelve months, thirteen festivals'), let us find ways of channelising the festive fervour more responsibly and profitably.

(The author is Vice-President (Discovery), Ogilvy & Mather. The Discovery unit comprises consumer insight, account planning and knowledge management functions.)

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication

Stories in this Section
Cell evolution

Blessed are the braggers