My Name is Marketing

No. This is blasphemy. Acrimony of the highest order. Completely unacceptable.

You fuckface Americans have no idea who you’ve messed with. You have insulted India’s national treasure and thereby smeared a permanent tar mark of insult over our nation’s pride, integrity, sovereignty (and many other such goodness-knows-what civics terminologies).
Our sleeps are shaken. Our making-it-big-in-US dreams are shattered. How can we ever look at your white-as-pigeon-shit faces again without contempt?

You tried it once with some nutty rocket scientist by the name of APJ Abdul Kalam, who also happens to be a former president. We didn’t mind that.

You also try it daily on many other frequent flying Indians, who contribute more to your GDP than McDonald’s does. We don’t care.

But this? No way Uncle Sam. No fuckin way.

Like our beloved federal Minister of Information and Broadcasting, Ms Ambika Soni reacted, it will be tit for tat. And tit not as in what you buggers think.
She was weeping when she said this, “It has hurt ever Indian. And if somebody will be again and again causing hurt to us as a nation, then I think our government should put some kind of reciprocal arrangements”. Sob, sob. (You have a spare napkin Sonia?)

Great lady of pride, she has always been. Bite that, you Yankee dumbasses.


MBA (My Butt is Aching)

Spending lakhs for learning marketing from a business school feels like an absolute waste of time and resources. There’s so much to learn from people and places. The art of attracting customers, it seems has to come from within, not Philip Kotler’s oversized textbook.

Like, I had gone to a small electronics shop in Chennai to buy a headphone. Understanding that I was choosy, the sales guy decided to help me out before he lost a buyer. He took out a set, put it in his ears, plugged it to a player, pressed the play button and suddenly sprang back like he was shot in the head, and then exclaimed, “my god my ears! It blew my ears. Ohhh”… and pulled it out instantly. The prestige touch was to look dazed and recovering from the shock.
I decided in thrilled glee, I gotta get that one. How much is it man? Or do you want my wallet?

Nobody taught him that trick. Or strategy as we call it.
And nobody told that devastated looking mom in Central station to ask her little girl to stand outside National Durbar hotel and cry to people coming out with their tummies full, that she hasn’t had anything in three days.
And the best part is, it always works.

India’s biggest superstar hasn’t got my degree. But he knows what to do.
Mostly it’s all heavily planned, and some very few times like last week, it’s a matter of presence of mind.

Newark airport, New Jersey.

Sir, could you please come in for a little checkup? Seems your name popped up. Also there’s a slight confusion regarding your luggage. This way please sir.
Superstar thinks. It’s a random check. I know.
They know who I am. I’m sure I saw a smile. Nothing will go wrong. After all, I’m the world’s best, innit?
But hey, I’ll be late for the dance at the Independence Day party. Shit. Shit.

Interrogation has to take place according to the set of rules and routine questions. No matter who. No matter what. No matter where. It naturally took some time.

Fuck. It’s just bad luck my name popped up. No wait, could this be a stroke of terrific fortune? I have an idea. Karan will love it. Oh, I’m a genius.
Where’s my Nokia phone? Let me dial NDTV. No, that would make it kinda obvious, with Dharma’s partnership and all. Let’s go for CNN-IBN.
“Hello, hey this is Badshah. You know what, I was really hassled at the New Jersey airport because My Name is Khan (this part was repeated in spite of crystal clear network)...The couple of hours of interrogation wanting to know if I know anyone in America while all around people were vouching for me from India and Pakistan”

What followed is a poetic paragraph of ridiculously funny lines that makes your insides tumble over. It seems our man never wanted to be in that place. Wonder why most of the songs have San Francisco’s bridges and his kids love Disneyland. He also says it’s happened many times before. Then why go about it now, Badshah? Oh yeah the release of some movie about 9/11 and stuff, we heard. Shush!!!
And he had almost decided he would never go back to that country again. Before Obama could intervene from a summit in Greece, our man reconsidered and said he'll come back only for his fans. And not for Gucci. Sigh! What a relief.

Good friends joined in soon. Juhi Chawla was inconsolable. She went on to compare it to Brad Pitt getting stripped in India. Like Suresh says, might’ve been her favorite wet dream. Osaka Muraiya!

And matter gained the expected momentum in no time. India raged and writhed in pain. Marches organized, from Badshah’s house to Salman Khan’s house. From Salman to Bachchan parivaar. From there to Akshay Kumar’s house and that poor guy thought they caught him unbuttoning again.

US embassy cried out foul. Envoy clarifies officially that it was never about name. People like Janata Party President Subramanian Swamy says it’s outright ridiculous, and that even Americans like Senator Edward Kennedy get checked and interrogated in their airports.
Who listens? Damage done. Initials guaranteed. Multiplexes from Gurgaon to Jacksonville booked brim. Badshah happy. Karan happy. And to the assholes who said Ghajini’s marketing strategies were the best so far, try beating this!

And to us, the so-called future managers of tomorrow: No amount of research or class hours in Strategic Media Planning can get you anywhere close to this brilliance. No lectures on Brand Management and Consumer Behavior will give you this panache. No cost reduction techniques will tell you how to manage such an economical blow up.

Kudos to you sir, must come over some time and take a seminar.
Sure son, will there be a dance number after that? I’ll take Bebo along then. I’ll revolutionize education like I did cricket. And oh, I drink only sprite in seminars.
And sir, the trick to make all of this look less obvious to the pathetic Indian diaspora?
Son, remember just one thing.

My name is Khan.


Disclaimer: This is just a bitter allegation, supported only by obvious facts and common sense. But if it was that shorter Khan, we could’ve been sure. He had exclaimed in his personal blog about the accidental discovery that the caretaker of his newly acquired home had a dog with the name Khan, to create a controversy to publicize his nephew’s movie. He was even found sitting beside Medha Patkar. He would do anything. Yuck!