My Bengali Chronicles in a Branding Universe

Okay, here’s a little nugget I’d like to share today. While most kids in the ’80s and ’90s were dozing off to tales from the Grimm Brothers, my nights were painted with Rabindranath Tagore’s poetic magic. 

Imagine my quiet and pensive grandma, narrating stories of brave hearts, wise sages, and other folks with Tagore’s eloquence, guiding me to dreamland. These tales are so deeply entrenched in my subconscious that, to date, I want to sprinkle a bit of that poetic charm into everything I write. (A tad extra? Well, let’s say it’s the Bengali in me!)

Two decades into my career, the magnetic pull of Tagore and Ray isn’t just alive; it’s thriving. In this restless digital era, where Alexa (my daughter’s encyclopedia…sigh!) often gatecrashes my contemplative moments with a befuddled, “Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I can’t help but channel my inner Bengali to steer through the beautiful chaos we call life. 

The roots? Deeply Bengali. The influence? Immeasurable. The result? My work waltzing between Tagore’s poetic profundity and Ray’s cinematic genius (Yes, I know I am being over dramatic again). And if you’re wondering why -please allow me to take you on a journey of Bengal’s finest and how they’ve inadvertently become my muses. Let’s embark, shall we?

The Enigma of Tagore

Ah, Tagore! I don’t know where to begin for someone who crafts my entire being. Recently, revisiting one of his classics took me back to my girlhood days. I remember flipping through the pages of *Stree’r Potro* (The Wife’s Letter) during college while pursuing a degree in English literature and feeling gutted and empowered all at once. Allow me to demonstrate how. 

In this short story, Mrinal is the protagonist. A housewife from a conservative Bengali family trapped in the societal conventions of early 20th-century India, Mrinal is a symbol of silent resilience and rebellion. 

Despite the suffocating weight of her circumstances, she possesses a fiery spirit. She writes a poignant letter to her husband, expressing her years of pent-up emotions, unspoken grievances, and decision to break free from the chains that bind her. This letter, a masterstroke from Tagore, highlights her realisation of self-worth and her quest for independence. 

Today, I realise how understanding characters like Mrinal and many others have taught me the art of discovering the essence beneath the surface, like unveiling the soul of a brand. 

Timeless Tales of Ray

Now for the one and only Satyajit Ray, who is the undisputed God of Cinema to me. (Here I go….again!) How can I ever forget the impact of his storytelling on my adolescent mind? Here is a glimpse of his world for those of you who might be meeting Apu for the first time. Apu’s journey, documented across Ray’s iconic Apu Trilogy, is a coming-of-age story. 

From a curious village boy to a college student in Kolkata and then a struggling young man, his life is an amalgamation of joys and profound tragedies. Apu’s interactions with the world, losses, and evolution paint a vivid picture of life’s unpredictable tapestry. Through Ray’s narrative, I learned the importance of minute details, which I now carry forward in my branding endeavours.

The most significant gift Ray gave me? The city of Benaras. I’d only set foot in the town in my adulthood. But through Ray’s lenses, I felt its pulse, sights, and sounds. And it’s the same pulse when working on a brand, immersing myself into its world, ethos, and narrative.

And the trains. Goodness, the trains. The rhythmic chugging became synonymous with loss, thanks to Apu. First, it was his beloved sister, then his parents, and the most heart-wrenching of all, his wife. And that is just the Apu trilogy. The remarkable narratives of Ray remind me of how important it is to stick to the essence of a brand to ensure its story is coherent, consistent, and emotionally resonant.

Before I conclude, let’s address the elephant in the room. Yes, we Bengalis are often teased – sometimes mercilessly – about our undying allegiance to the past and our continued reverence for legends like Tagore and Ray. “Move on,” they say. But can you really blame us?

These maestros disrupted and reshaped their art forms with a grace that makes their work as captivating today as it was then. Every day, as I delve into my work, I find their spirit shaping my perspective and infusing my projects with the depth and resonance only they could inspire.

As I close, may I ask for a favour? Cut us some slack the next time you catch a Bengali waxing eloquent about the rhapsody of Rabindra Sangeet or gushing about the genius of a black-and-white Ray film. We’re only celebrating legends who have crafted universes that will forever remain in our hearts, and we will be more than glad to take on that journey. Just say the words.