'Live in the moment, forever': Remembering ad legend Piyush Pandey

Piyush conceived some of the best creatives produced in Indian advertising history. Yet, it would be unfair to remember him for what he built. I'd like us to remember him for the person he was

The phone would often ring at 7 am, and being a late riser, I’d grudgingly respond, to be greeted by a highly energised Piyush who’d have by then finished his walk around Shivaji Park (Mumbai). He’d say, “Partner, I just thought this while walking”, and he’d narrate four to six lines of a poem or a story idea, followed by loud laughter. Then he’d ask, “What do you think?” By then, I’d have woken up just about enough to say, “Sounds like you like it, hence it must be good”, and then I’d go back to sleep. The pattern remained unchanged for years.

 

 

We met nearly three decades ago, accidentally at a panel that both of us were a part of, and never looked back. When I joined Hutch/Vodafone in 2001, Ogilvy was already doing our creatives, and some great campaigns were produced over the next nine years, which Piyush and I cheered from the sidelines. My temptations to meddle with the creative work were often discouraged by the space he gave his team. A decade later, when I decided to move back to India and join what was then Tata Sky, (ad mogul) Martin Sorrell asked me what made me pick what I did amongst the options I had, and my unfiltered response was, “Possibly because Piyush and team do the creatives for Tata Sky, too.” In hindsight, it wasn’t on impulse that I said what I did.

 

Piyush conceived some of the best creatives that were produced in Indian advertising history and coached today’s stalwarts who once learnt via osmosis in his presence. Yet, it would be unfair to remember him for what he built.

 

I’d like us to remember him for the person Piyush was.

 

Piyush was rarely distracted, whether looking out of the window from the car or sitting across from you and chatting. He would be constantly trying to fathom the underlying meaning and feeling of what he saw or heard, with complete sincerity and honesty. It helped him generate a response that was unfiltered, uncensored, and so straight from the heart, it was impossible to contest it, whether it fell in your favour or against what you believed.

 

Spontaneity drove Piyush, and he lived in the moment. We were chatting once and realised that we hadn’t watched a live game of cricket in a while. The next moment we were booking a flight to Bengaluru, where the IPL (Indian Premier League) game was on that night, to return the next afternoon. Once, while I was in his hometown, Jaipur, for work, he was there to meet his mother. We met over dinner, and the conversation went way past midnight, at the end of which we agreed to meet for breakfast at his home over the best kachodis from the bylanes of the city, which very few knew of. I had barely gone to sleep when he called at 6 am, saying, “Partner, I am getting the kachodis packed and will be home in 30 minutes for us to enjoy them piping hot.” I scrambled to shower, dress and reach his place for breakfast, which slipped into an early lunch followed by very early drinks. What he’d say or do next was difficult to guess, even when he was not so active in his last couple of years.

 

Piyush was strongheaded, and would defend his ideas and people like a rock. Yet, on rare occasions, if a counterargument were to hit him, he’d bow and rescind gracefully. I’ve been witness to two such occasions in the three decades that I knew him, and both times the magnitude of the matter was humongous, yet it took him a moment to vacate his stand.

 

Piyush was furiously loyal, and earned reciprocal loyalty from many who trusted him to the extent of betting on him blindly. There are many who’d left their entire communication plans to him, some even trusted him with their business strategy. It was difficult not to like Piyush for his earthiness and simplicity, but if he took a liking to you, it was for life, regardless of what you did or said after that, as some of us who were on his calling and invite list would testify. We were blessed.

 

This morning, when the phone rang at 7 while I was asleep, it wasn’t him, it was news about him. There was no loud laughter that followed the call, but I could hear him vividly in the background. And my response, once again, was, “Sounds like you like it, hence it must be good.” Only this time, I couldn’t go back to sleep. 

Snippets from the storyteller’s storyboard

 

Mile sur mera tumhara (1988)

 

The national integration anthem – one phrase sung in 14 languages – for which he wrote the lyrics was first telecast on Independence Day in 1988. Not only did it capture India’s rich cultural heritage, it became a much-loved expression of unity in diversity.

 

Fevicol

 

Fevicol ka jod (1990s)

 

The campaign highlighted the brand’s robust adhesive quality with a humorous twist – from the tongue-in-cheek ad of an overloaded bus rocking its way through rugged Rajasthan, with the passengers securely stuck to it, courtesy Fevicol, to a social commentary through the journey of an unbreakable sofa passed down generations.

 

Polio

 

Do boond zindagi ke (1994)

 

The campaign, with its simple yet significant framing, played a key role in India’s fight against polio. The message, delivered in Amitabh Bachchan’s baritone voice, was direct, and had a far-reaching impact.   

 

Cadbury

 

Kuchh khaas hai (1994)

 

The ad, which came at a time when Cadbury wasn’t doing particularly well and was losing market share, transformed the brand into a symbol of celebration for everyone, not just children. The ad featured a young woman dodging a policeman to run into the cricket field in a moment of joy.

 

Asian Paints

 

Har ghar kuchh kehta hai (2002)

 

Why shouldn’t a paint job be more than just that? Why not make it an expression of every home’s personal story, of the memories it holds? This ad did just that, and with such success that Asian Paints revived the campaign in 2024.

 

Vodafone

 

Pug and ZooZoo campaign 

 

Remember the time every second or third dog-owning family had a pug? The credit for that goes to Piyush Pandey’s brilliant “You & I in this beautiful world” Vodafone campaign, featuring a pug named Cheeka that follows a little boy everywhere. Or when ZooZoo’s – those fidgety little white characters that spoke gibberish – became a rage? That was again his doing, this time for the brand for the 2009 Indian Premier League (IPL) season.

 

---

The writer is Managing Director and CEO, Tata Play Ltd