Quietly Does It

After moving to Kindle a few years ago, I have pretty much moved only to Kindle. The odd hard copy I still buy is a collectible, like all the Guru Dutt books I got in my hyper-obsession over the man last year.

Of course, Kindle (or any other book reader, or app) is convenient. No need to carry, or buy, so many books (except perhaps to show how erudite you are during your airport travels). You can increase or decrease the font size as needed. You can find out meanings of new words while reading, instead of waiting to check out on a dictionary later, when you would most likely have forgotten more than half the new words you came across. The e-book versions are also cheaper, even if marginally. And now, with Prime Reading, you can even read some books for free.

I first came across a Kindle with a co-commuter in a bus several years ago. I thought the black device was a tablet, but I also knew it wasn’t as chunky as a tablet. (This was about seven-eight years ago.) He told me about it, and then proceeded to explain the great extent to which Amazon had gone to simulate the reading experience in a device: the papery background, the fonts, the weight of the device, the colour of the device (black, to not compete with anything else)…

After getting my own device, settling into it, and getting used to it, like it happens, all this had become a blind spot. Until a few days back. When I paused in the course of my Sunday reading to notice the logo. When I sought to, actually, I didn’t notice it. And then, branding-loving me realized: if Amazon had designed the device to simulate the reading experience, they had designed the logo to not interfere with it, especially bearing in mind that the logo would come on the front of the device. The font is lower-case, sans serif, and not overly thick, and the colour is black (against the black of the device) – all to ensure that it doesn’t draw your attention from your reading. Until your curiousity is kindled.

Paper Flowers, Real Thorns

If the Pyaasa poster took me a while to decode, the poster of another great Guru Dutt movie, Kaagaz ke Phool (the one he directed right after Pyaasa and after which he never directed again), was much simpler to get.

In KKP, GD’s Hindi film director character, Suresh Sinha, is married but separated with a school-going daughter, who is in his wife’s custody. Suresh meets Shanti, Waheeda Rehman’s character, in a different city (Delhi, if I remember correctly) one stormy night. When she comes to Bombay, she eventually ends up being cast in his under-production movie on Devdas. Over the days, feelings and a great understanding develop between the two, but they also know they can’t bring these to fruition. This was the 1930s after all. Plus, it was the grain of the characters: both are seekers enough to like each other, but are also tormented by their morals in not wanting to break up a marriage. So, they remain anguished in their almost-relationship, which eventually ends, and ends despondently.

GD and WR bring out the dual feelings of desire and anguish marvellously in the poster: just look at their faces and the expressions they bear. But, also look at the rest of the body language. WR faces away from GD and seems to convey a feeling of wanting to pull herself away from this situation (unlike in the Pyaasa poster, where although not fully facing him, she doesn’t appear like she wants to move away from him). However, her head leans toward his, to indicate a level of interest and yearning coming from the core. As for GD, he seems to be clutching her like he doesn’t want her to go. In all the tight embracing and thoughts of pulling away, they look painfully torn. This kind of love can only happen on paper (kaagaz). And on a brilliant poster.

Design Poetry Too

Ever since Pyaasa became my number one Hindi film of all time (during my ongoing deep discovery of Guru Dutt), I have been fascinated by its poster, perhaps because I am fascinated by GD (the filmmaker and the person), the movie, and visual / poster design. What does Vijay’s (GD’s poet character in the movie) face leaning on Gulab’s (Waheeda Rehman’s streetwalker character) head say about the movie? How does it symbolize the movie, for isn’t that what movie posters are meant to do?

The movie isn’t about love, at least not from Vijay’s side. Vijay is too drowned in his own sorrows and despair of the world (he laments that the world doesn’t recognize true poetry and creativity, and rarely and cruelly during the artist’s time) to notice anything outside his coat of gloom. Gulab does love Vijay, but she is not the one leaning toward him in the poster. Gulab pines for Vijay throughout the movie, but never reveals her feelings for him, not even at the end, at least not directly. However, Vijay finally comes for her in the last scene, and they walk away into the sunset together, holding hands, but looking more like companions, who have been tortured enough by the world and are now seeking a place “yahaan se duur, jahaan se phir duur na jaane pade” (far from here, from where we never need to go far away again).

And there you have it. Vijay rests on her head like one would rest their head on someone’s shoulders, seeking solace and comfort; you know, a shoulder to lean on? But it isn’t a shoulder that Gulab offers; she offers more. She offers her intellect, her understanding, her sensitivity, her sensibility. For didn’t she fall in love with him only through his poetry? As she heart-warmingly tells him in their first real conversational scene together, “When I have understand your thoughts and emotions, what else do I need to understand about you?” And perhaps, that is all that Vijay is pyaasa for.

Well, what do you know, Pyaasa’s poster has also become my number one Hindi film poster of all time.

 

IrfindingVegan | On1y | On1y the Best

Determination pays.

There, you already know the answer/s to the question/s in the first part of this piece (read the prologue here). But then, you already knew the answer when you knew there was a second piece.

So, I left the auto, entered the hotel (Raintree), went past security, entered the lobby, and checked with a hotel staff where the bloggers’ meet was. “Mauve Room, L1. You’ll need to take the lift.” I went up to the lift, pressed the button, and as I waited for it to arrive, decided to check my messages and mails. There was one mail from the coordinator of the event itself, inquiring where I was. Dang. Terribly late.

Reached the Mauve Room, saw the board outside, and steadied myself to make a quiet entry. Did, and realised things were even quieter. Time to go loud now: IT HADN’T BEGUN!!!!! You can always trust Indian Stretchable Time!!!!!

I spotted Suneil Chawla, one of the two co-founders of Social Beat, the social-media agency organizing the event, went up to him, informed him I was late as – well, time to go quiet again – I had had a stomach upset, but was fine now. He told me that was ok, they had factored in some late-coming, and told me to take a seat.

Did so, got my breath back a bit, and a few minutes later, the show was on. The client would talk a bit about the company, brand and product, make a short presentation, we would have a short tasting, and then he (name Vishal, don’t quite remember his designation) would take questions, along with the feedback. And oh, they had arranged for video testimonials as well. Cool, finally a video of mine could go viral. Or at least, I could circulate it through my social media pages.

On1y (note the spelling) comes from the Bangalore-based Jayanti Group, which is in the agri-businesses of spice, tea, and coffee. Started by Jayantilal Shah (and so the name) in 1940, it is now in the hands of the latest generation. Its entry into the herbs and seasonings’ industry is not just with an intention to expand its offerings, but also as the logical next step to one of its present lines of work: it has been doing private labeling for other brands of herbs and seasonings, which retail for a premium, so it thought why not brand our product ourselves and make it available at a more accessible price.

What On1y also gets from its parent is the logo. The Jayanti logo has a green leaf within, so does On1y’s. This is, apart from reflecting lineage, also to indicate things like fresh, natural, green. Vishal corroborated this in a casual chat later: the chairman was very clear that the On1y logo have a leaf element somewhere. I am equally clear too: the logo scores. It’s neat, clear, communicative. I also inquired with Vishal next why they decided to call it so. He responded, “We want to be the only brand of choice/consideration around people’s tables/kitchens.” And the name scores too.

My roving, branding-loving eyes next went to the packaging. On1y’s 21 flavours come in two kinds of packs, as appropriate. They have sprinklers in tin boxes that have a see-through front for products that are best, well, sprinkled, such as oregano, basil, and Italian seasoning. The other kind of pack is a glass bottle with a firmly attached grinder at the top, which you grind clockwise and anti-clockwise (for best results) to get freshly ground condiments and spices on your food. These include pink salt, sea salt, and black pepper, among others. It can be refilled at the most once, but they suggest it’s best to get a new bottle.I tried my hand at the grinder for salad seasoning. It takes some getting used to, and I’m not sure I got it right the first time. However, there was ample salad around. So, when I tried it the next time, it was more wieldy, and actually fun to use. Ladies, you may want to be careful asking him to help out in the kitchen now.

My attention then went to the design. I had noticed lovely motifs and icons on the slide for each product during the presentation. But it was only during the tasting when we were up close with the products that I noticed better. There are cute images of the place of origin of each sprinkler product. For instance, basil has illustrations of Egyptian kings like found around the pyramids as it’s farmed in Egypt and oregano has a whirling dervish as it’s procured from Turkey, which I also learned is the spice capital of the world.

So, the folk at On1y seem to have paid as much attention to the branding and packaging as to the product. The sign of any passionate marketer. Now, would the product itself make the grade?

At the tasting, there were four salads and a soup. The soup seemed a cream of broccoli or spinach (I later found out it was the first): non-vegan, so out for me. One salad was non-veg (chicken, I believe), but the other three salads were all vegan. A spicy corn, a spicy potato, and a potato-and-something mix (don’t remember the something now). I ground and drizzled the salad seasoning onto the three vegan salad portions on my plate. I took a bite of the spicy corn, and it hit all the right buttons in my palate. It tingled my taste-buds, made me salivate, and made it difficult to have a conversation with all those juices swirling in my mouth. But it was a client-sponsored gathering, so decided to be discreet and eat slow. I also think I figured out why they had actually called themselves so: On1y the best would do. And of course, the ‘1’ instead of ‘l’ tops it.

The tasting went on for some more time. Folk moved around from table to table, group to group, person to person, socializing, chatting, networking. In between, Social Beat had opened up Twitter on the laptop/projector, where the bloggers/influencers were already taking pix and posting/tweeting. The agency/client had decided to keep it chilled out: we didn’t necessarily have to tweet/post right then, we could go back and do so. Perfect, we could concentrate on the food.

Lunch was ready soon after. We stepped outside. I had a look and was a bit disappointed by the fare: not much vegan. (Raintree to blame?) Only a pulao and… paapad. Apart from the salads, of course. They had also mixed up the butter roti and khulcha, and staunchly vegan me would not indulge in this contamination. So, I took a portion of the rice, a paapad, the spicy potato, and was done. After all, wouldn’t want to chance my stomach too much.

The last item on the itinerary – apart from the coffee/tea, which is never good for a stomach upset and so I didn’t stay for – was the video testimonial. I waited for most others to speak their bit, wrapped up mine, concentrating of course on the vegan bit (yes, all of On1y’s products are delightfully vegan, even the meat seasoning), and saying my byes to Suneil and some of the others (had made acquaintance with a food blogger/entrepreneur and an ad agency biggie, apart from meeting again a social-media campaigner I knew from another networking meet), made to scoot. Oh, and after receiving their celebration pack, which comprised four products (two sprinklers and two grinders), a leaflet, and an Amazon gift voucher, which I went home and promptly used for getting some books.

Good food. Good meet. Good conversations. Good networking. Good gifts. The day may not have started well, with the bad stomach and all, but it sure ended up A-fine. Enough for me to brave taking a normal auto back home.

∞

You can find out more about On1y here: On1y website

You can find out more about Social Beat here: Social Beat website

Irfanvertising | Namami Gange | Logo-design Contest

The government recently announced a logo-design contest for Namami Gange, the clarion call for the National Mission for Clean Ganga, an initiative that works towards cleaning and conserving the Ganga. Here’s my entry for it (they allowed only one entry), along with the write-up for the thought behind the logo (they asked for this). The contest ended yesterday.

The prize is INR 50K. What will I do if I win? I guess… take a trip down the Ganga.

∞

The Ganga gives us so much joy. Now, how about returning that joy?

That is the simple thought behind the logo. But a thought needs visualization. So, we start with a universal symbol for water – a set of waves. And then add to that the universal and contemporary (for it is also, or rather, especially important to connect to the young) symbol for joy – the smiley. So, the waves of the Ganga, which brings us so much joy, become smiling waves, with the joy we return to it through our various conservation measures. This also works because it is very important for a logo to be humanistic, especially one that is aimed at galvanizing people into a big, collective action, and so the smiling waves also look like people riding, joyfully, along the waves of the Ganga.

The thought is reflected in the slogan as well: ‘Aao Banaaye Nadi Humaari, Ek Nadi Khushiyaan Bhari.’ (Transcreation, not transliteration: ‘Come, let’s make our river / A river of joy forever.’) A call for action, yet poetic.

There are two main colours in the logo, grey and blue. The grey in the visual is the current colour of the Ganga, which has lost its pristine blueness due to all the pollution, but which we hope to revert to with our efforts. (However, the depiction isn’t entirely negative, for when seen from a distance, any water body looks grey.) This is reflected in the colours of the slogan too. The first part, ‘Aao Banaaye Nadi Humaari’, is in grey and the second part, ‘Ek Nadi Khushiyaan Bhari’, is in blue, the original – and hopefully future too – pristine colour of the Ganga.

∞

And here’s more about the contest: NMCG Logo Pratiyogita

Irfanvertising: Lit for Life… For Life

In my various social media spaces (work and non-work), I have posted about how I love The Hindu Lit for Life fest logo, both the general one and this year’s adaptation.

In the general logo, I love how the crevice in the nib leads to a light-bulb, which has become synonymous for an idea or the sparking of an idea.

In this year’s adapted logo, I love the splash of blue (ink) – to me, it indicated movement, dynamism, fluidity.

However, it was only when I was taking print-outs of this year’s schedule, at the neighbourhood DTP and internet café, and thus saw the logo on the schedule from a distance (on their computer screen), that I saw deeper meanings (unintended or intentional) to the logo.

One, the splash of blue – nice and big and bold – seems like a strong, forceful counter to the splash of red (read: blood) we have seen in the past year or so in the art, literary and creative spaces, both in India and neighbouring countries. Writers and other creative individuals returning their awards to protest the rising intolerance to free expression. Authors such as Perumal Murugan announcing their ‘literary death’ to protest against the protests against his Tamil book ‘Mathurobagan’ (‘One Part Woman’ in the English translation). Ink attacks (Sudheendra Kulkarni had ink/black oil smeared on his face for organizing an event to launch former Pakistani minister, Khurshid Mahmud Kasuri’s book, ‘Neither a Hawk nor a Dove: An Insider’s Account of Pakistan’s Foreign Policy’). Bloggers being killed in Bangladesh. Creative folk’s voices being muzzled in various ways across the country, the most ludicrous perhaps being the installation of a plastic cow balloon (to highlight the danger to cows on eating plastic thrown around by people) being pulled down after protests by people belonging to the right-wing ruling party and then being worshipped because as per their culture and tradition, the cow is a sacred animal and they won’t allow it to be killed, or it seems, humiliated. (Turning blind eyes to the immense cruelty milch cows have to go through in the name of dairy production.) The bold indigo splash seems to be say, the intelligent voice will splash you back, the creative blood will keep flowing.

Two, the blue dab, especially as the fest is Chennai-based, seems a tribute to the aqueous horrors the city and its citizens went through in mid-November and early December due to unprecedented and record-breaking rains and floods. This time, the logo seems to say, the city will keep flowing. That’s also why, after much debate, and where other cultural events in the city were either muted or cancelled, the festival organizers have decided to go ahead with the fest, but with some adjustments: no pre-events and inclusion of several talks on the crises that cities face due to urbanization.

In short, literature and life will keep going. Amen.

∞

Learn more about The Hindu Lit for Life Fest 2016 on its website: TheHinduLFL

Irfanvertising: Well, Advertising Myself

Irfanvertising, as most people who follow this blog and especially this series would know, is where I discuss and comment on most things advertising: from branding to design, with special love for logos. Well, just this once, I’ll be talking about my own.

My website for my profile as a writer and ad consultant is now live, and yesterday, got my visiting card made too. Designed it myself (while I’m basically a writer/copywriter, do have a visual sense – coming from being in a creative field – and also do some basic design from time to time). And here I shall be talking of the thought – communicative and visual – that I put into it.

Messagevertising

The key element in any bit of communication is the message. My message, or rather my philosophy/motto/slogan/credo as a writer and ad guy is: Insight. Simplicity. I try and look for a key insight to tap into for any communication and then like to keep the communication simple (though no less effective; but when you do both, it pretty much ends up being effective). Since those initials are the same as those in my name (ok, ok, that’s why I chose them), it also ends up being tied very very integrally to me and my work.

Visualvertising

How do you depict ‘Insight, Simplicity’? I like certain colours, which proved to work well for my philosophy. Grey for ‘insight’, coming as it does from your grey cells. White for ‘simplicity’, for obvious reasons. And a nice, vibrant blue (specifically turquoise) to hold these together. (Blue is my favourite colour, coming from belonging to the water-bearer sign, I guess.)

Mine is not a company and I don’t intend to initially use my name as a brand name (though, like most people in the creative field, I would love if it becomes so). So, I didn’t want to create a logo out of my name, or as typically happens, out of the initials. (You know, CK, DK, name initial-surname initial.) But I wanted a graphic element – as a visual element on the card and also something I could use as a device or hook later if needed. But what could it be?

Insight and simplicity. Together they help you be bang-on. So, hey, a dart-board. But since it’s been used in communication since almost the hieroglyphics, I decided to graphicize it, giving it edges rather than keeping it round. Also kept only two circles (for simplicity) and from the same brand colours (blue-white-grey).

But again, as I didn’t want to use it full-on at the start, have tucked it away into a top corner, as only a visual element for now. If later, I want to use it as a full-blown icon, I’ll move it from its present position to something more centre-stage. When for instance, I make the next 100 cards.

Designvertising

Visual design is one thing. Design – that is, useable design – is another. I had been looking at visiting cards closely for the past few months. And became fairly clear of one thing: while having a very creative card – folds, holes, shapes, and other whoops and whistles – is very cool, it should also be easy to handle.

I wanted it to be easy to zip out and give to the other person and wanted the other person to find it easy to put it into their pocket/wallet (the only places I wanted it to be), rather than they first wowing at the cool card I have with three strings and two folds that they now have to wonder where to put on their person/baggage. User-friendly, in short. And practical: less time engaged in an element of the transaction and more time involved in the actual transaction.

Readyvertising

Here then is the final product. My name, profile and essential contacts on the front (though with a couple obscured for this space), with a corner of the graphicized dartboard peeking in from above. The back has offsetting turquoise with my message, and the work-related social media contacts below.

Now, time to go networking and hand these out.