Guest Article: A Syrupy Mind (aka Rasho Mon in Bengali)

A man and a dog are sitting motionless outside his house. Inside, it's raining ads.

Man: I just can't understand it. All three of them...

Dog: All three of whom?

(The man begins to narrate.)

Another channel -- this time, it is a deo that's getting a much-married woman to fantasise about the man she's just seen. Watches, underwear, antique jewellery -- different channels, different brands, but the same theme. Man and woman in the throes of passion, waiting for the ad to end so that they could jump into bed.

Cut to a ladle falling noisily onto the floor. The camera pans to show the woman follow the ladle as she crumples into a noisier heap, in slow motion. (Sfx of tiles breaking and popping out of their positions in a domino effect to be added during post.)

Back to man and dog.

Man: The woman was found dead and the case went to court. The client, the NCD (national creative director) and the media planner were all interrogated. So was the dead woman, who spoke through a medium. And, this is what each had to say.

Client: I don't know. The NCD played me clips of Sex and the City, Desperate Housewives, Big Love and lots of soaps, and convinced me that it was the way ahead if I wanted to sell my soap. But, it was the Media Planner who led me to choose this primetime soap for my ad. I wouldn't dream of offending the sensibilities of an old woman!

Media Planner: Months before the brief had been written -- yes sir, we still have written briefs in the agency -- the creative team on the account had already decided that whatever be the objective, it would make a film that looked 'international' - that meant lots of attitude and less clothes. The client insisted on the ad being placed in shows with the highest TRPs. And, thus it came to be that middle-aged women who, until then, were engrossed in havelis, child marriage, joint families, vamp wars and the sanctity of the mangalsutra, were suddenly exposed to variations of the Kamasutra. Why was such an ad done for a conservative audience? No clue, Sir. No, I doubt if the NCD will know either.

NCD: Listen, my original script was about a housewife who was desperately trying to find the right soap for her family, otherwise her son would not stand first in class and her husband would not get a promotion. But, how can one justify a shoot in Brazil and post-production in Australia with this script? Besides, I need to win some awards and justify my fat pay, right? That woman had 200 channels to choose from -- why couldn't she just surf channels during ad breaks like the rest of the world does?

Medium (representing the housewife): How can they play such ads on the television? What? You're saying that there are worse things being shown on it? Well... (blushes) that's the reason why I'm hooked on to all the soaps. Commercial breaks were reserved for kitchen work and other things, but with the ads being so hot now, even my loo breaks have gone for a toss. Holding on for so many hours was proving to be difficult, and the pressure finally got to me. What, you thought it was blood pressure? No, not at all.

(Cut to the man and the dog.)

Dog: And, so everyone blamed everyone else. But, the judge blamed them all for having terribly messed up minds and dismissed the case. The story inspired a book titled 'The Case of the Syrupy Mind' which was then made into a film titled 'Rasho Mon'. The writer lost his mind and took the producers to court because his name was featured only in the end credits - this led to the origin of the phrase the 'Rasho mon effect'.

Man: But, how do you know all this? You've been with me right through!

Dog: I'm a pug, remember? Wherever I go, the network follows.

(L Suresh is an independent creative consultant)