The Edgehog Chronicles

By Kalyan Gupta

The Edgehog Chronicles is about the lives of three different characters who share one common thread, and that is, they live on the edge of conventions and mainstream life. To my mind, they are social edgehogs walking the edge. However, they cannot ignore the call of the butterfly that is cocooned in most of us, awaiting release. The chronicles merely share with the reader the tales of the lives of all the three characters and their own unique journeys. I believe it may provoke my readers to explore the butterflies within themselves and allow the pupas of their dreams to metamorphose into realization.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Apr 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543702217

Kalyan Gupta

Kalyan Gupta was born in April27th 1957 in Calcutta India Having completed his highschool from a Jesuit boarding school North Point, Darjeeling a beautiful hill station in The Himalayan fringe of North Bengal. Following this he went on to Delhi University

Book preview

Prologue

An entire generation born in post-Independence India found themselves in a nation transiting between its traditional antiquity and its recently inherited colonial legacy. Despite the circumstantially evolved endowment of a great educational infrastructure the diverse influences that governed the syncopated rhythmic patterns of nurture and nature that bred movers and shakers in plenty — it also evolved as the world internationalised — while gradually moving towards a global village. Impacts of rocket science, the rise of neo-socialist, iconic, oriental Guru Mahesh Yogi, the Beatniks and the Allen Ginsberg-inspired non-conformist movements manifested in the Woodstock event and the subsequent urbanisation of marijuana that had remained a rural experience, now pervaded a generation of the urban youth worldwide, and particularly India’s historic and traditional association with it. The seventies brought about a mixture of doers and drifters alike and a third variety who walked the edge. This is a story about the wanderings of such an Edgehog, a young man in the quest of self-realisation. A member of a unique species, who lived pluralistic lives as they struggled to find themselves.

Book 1

THE BEGINNINGS: Rishabh’s Tales

It was a day like any other day of an Indian summer. The sweltering, grimy heat getting increasingly unbearable as a harsh sun breathed fire on the tarmac that shimmered in the heat. Rishabh mustered up enough courage to face the hot day and stepped out in to the street. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he realised that it was only nine thirty, hardly the time of day for it to be so hot even in this part of the world. Besides it was the receding spring in late April. Oh this Confounded Climate Change! he muttered to himself. He made several unsuccessful attempts to hail a cab.

Looking at his watch again, Rishabh realised that if he did not get a cab in the next ten minutes he would be late for the client meeting at office and the boss would not be pleased. But Rishab had always lived on the edge and it excited him, this brinkmanship. As Creative Head of a medium-sized advertising agency, his professional competence was seldom put to question. In fact, his work had earned the company several new clients. Beside his creative talents, his eloquence, and communication skills had clinched many a profitable deal, so minor aberrations like delayed appearances at meetings were tolerable as far as big boss Mr Khanna was concerned. Today’s client was a Multi National Company who were dissatisfied with the existing advertising agency and wanted to explore alternatives, they had heard of Rishabh’s creative skills and his keen understanding of marketing requirements and consumer behaviour. When Khanna had taken Rishabh to the client’s office to seek an opportunity to make a pitch, the CEO of the company had sized-up the longhaired, poetic, romantic looks of Rishabh and assumed him to be one of those artistic types, who functioned more by impulse and inspiration rather than hardcore marketing rationale. After a fairly long interface he realised that there was more to Rishabh than that which met the eye. The interface had bordered on the volatile when the said CEO expressed incredulity after he learnt that Rishabh was a postgraduate in Literature and an entirely self-taught graphic designer. Matters took a confrontational turn when the CEO challenged Rishabh’s knowledge of markets and consumers.

Rishabh reacted sharply, his reply was quite unnerving. As far as the texts on the subject go, the definition clearly states that Marketing is in fact human needs and their satisfaction. Since the word ‘human’ precedes ‘needs’ and their ‘satisfaction’ it can be safely assumed that the primary focus is on the human, in which case. Rishabh went on, Needs of humans’ manifest themselves behaviourally, therefore it is important to take human behaviour into cognisance when talking of marketing. Literature on the other hand is a compilation of detailed accounts of human behaviour under several socioeconomic, cultural and emotional conditions, therefore, let me dispel your doubts about my comprehension of human needs and their satisfaction. Conversely it is my studies in literature that gives me an in depth understanding of human behavioural nuances more than most. If one had not read Dickens, one would never had understood the behavioural aspects of a post industrial society caught up in the throes of conspicuous consumption. Selling and distributing products in the market can gain you a sizeable slice of market share but astute advertising, addressing the behavioural issues of human consumers will gain you a much larger slice of their share of mind. I trust that answers the questions in your mind about our team’s abilities to address the marketing issues? Rishabh concluded with a flourish.

It does Mr Sen, it does, so do send your team for a detailed briefing. In fact, it would be best if you came along as well, and get it directly from the horse’s mouth, which would be more effective. He rose, so did Khanna and Rishabh. Thank you gentlemen it was a pleasure to hear your thoughts Mr Sen, I begin to think that we could be on the same page, my Secretary will call you and set the day and time for the briefing. Despite the air-conditioning Khanna was sweating profusely, he pulled out a soiled handkerchief and mopped a sweating brow. He seemed relieved that the ordeal was over and that Rishabh had won the day for them, he hurried to the lift and purported to return to the safety of the fortifications of his own office and leave it to Rishabh to face the flak at the next encounter.

On his return to the office Rishabh sank into his chair and lit a cigarette. He rang for some tea and relaxed — smirking at the thought of the CEO’s face, while ingesting Rishabh’s speech in the defence of literature — in a battlefield against marketing warriors. He had barely taken a sip of his tea that the intercom rang, he picked up the receiver, Hello, Sen here, he said in his baritone. Hi handsome, it was Pallavi Mathur, the chief copy writer and Rishabh’s creative team’s mainstay.

She nursed a crush for Rishabh and never missed an opportunity to show it. Rishabh admired and respected her intelligence and competence sans any amorous undertones. But Pallavi wasn’t the one to give up easily. Though they gelled well at work, it had not gone any further. Rishab having no romantic liaison with anyone else was foot loose and fancy free. Pallavi on the other hand like the proverbial cowgirl was ready with her lariat of charms to lasso in the Bengali Thoroughbred with his poetic looks.

Pallavi was a beautiful girl in a traditional Indian sense, wheat complexioned with large dark eyes that were kohl-lined and twinkled with both mischief and intelligence, she was in her late twenties and a cynosure of all the young men in the office. However being somewhat reserved and with a personality that was unapproachable few dared to indulge in any frivolous advances. Barring the few official parties she was not very social with her colleagues maintaining a professional distance — fortified her inner being from any intrusion — with a firm but gentle manner

Pallavi please come to my office, I need to talk about the new client pitch. He put the receiver back on its cradle and leaned back on his chair picked up a pencil and began chewing on it. This was a habit with Rishabh when he was deep in thought. There was a tap on his door, Come in, he said. In walked Pallavi gracing the chamber with her usual poise and composure. Take a seat, Rishabh said formally.

Now this prospective client Shilton and Pritchard is globally renowned for their cosmetic products. High priced and meant for the elite market has been advertising through Bernstein and Pinter for over ten years. They were happy with them so far as their home appliances range was concerned. It is only since they acquired Arnell, the cosmetics global giant that their top brass felt that B&P did not have adequate experience in cosmetic products, where consumer behaviour patterns are quite different from the home appliances consumers.

Apparently they have come to know that I had been handling cosmetic product advertising in the previous agency I worked in and had won an award for my work. It seems that this fact made them consider giving our company a chance to pitch for the Account. As you know, Khanna, he jumped to it and now expects me to pull off a miracle. I guess the Account is worth a lot in revenue. But Pallavi, this is a team job and you are my Major Domo. Rishabh smiled and reclined back in his chair. Major Domo? She arched a finely tweezed eyebrow and looked at Rishabh quite sardonically, What a terribly MCP term! Thankfully the Army has begun recruiting women and a fair number of them are senior ranking, so you may be forgiven or at least the term can be, she said with a mocking smile teasingly. This kind of tongue-in-cheek banter was fairly common between them it seemed to garner their camaraderie.

It is almost six, and time to wind up for the day! Do you think you will have time to join me for coffee at the Bistro on your way home? I assure you, I will drop you home well in time. I could share my ideas on the forthcoming presentation over the coffee, if you will permit me.

Well, I don’t see any reason not to, Pallavi