Piyush Pandey’s stepping down from active duty at Ogilvy is no ordinary event. It cannot be passed off merely as the natural order of things. It’s not just another instance of the old giving way to the new. Trite phrases like ‘nothing is constant except change’ do not do it justice. It is an event of geological proportions. Like the melting of glaciers, or the drifting apart of continents. It is big, and it is disturbing.
Those of us who live in the northern, seismically active part of India know what it feels like when an earthquake strikes. There are moments of total and utter helplessness. A sense of panic grips one’s mind followed by an overwhelming wave of terror. Where will you run to? The very ground beneath your feet is giving way! Some of us experienced a similar feeling when we read the news report of Piyush’s decision to step back.
For what is he, if not the very bedrock of our profession?
Those who think I am overstating my case, consider this. I have always maintained in my conversations with fellow industry professionals that EVERY agency in the country should pay Piyush a salary.
‘What nonsense! Why?’ ask my scandalised colleagues.
‘Because,’ I tell them, ‘CEOs of billion dollar multinational companies walk him to his car after meetings, open the door deferentially for him, close it gently after he gets in and wave goodbye to him as his car drives off.’
He embodies the respect our profession should be getting. He alone keeps the industry’s flag flying.
Make no mistake. This truly is the end of an epoch. Piyush represents the era of humanity, warmth, laughter, love and human ingenuity. The new era, the one staring us in the face is an age of cold, unfeeling, relentless technology. Winter is coming.
If this man decides to walk off into the sunset (like he has), where does that leave us as an industry? Just a bunch of nervous, overworked, underpaid people constantly worried that ‘client chala jayega’ and that sooner rather than later the machines are coming to take away our jobs.
But maybe this is too pessimistic a view. Maybe the emotion of the moment is getting to us. Piyush would never think like that. He doesn’t have a negative bone in his body. Piyush would rub his hands with glee and say ‘game toh abhi shuru hua hai partner!’
It is time to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and stand up to applaud the man as he declares his momentous innings closed and walks slowly back to the pavilion, bat raised to acknowledge his adoring fans. The opposition gives him a guard of honour. His team mates lift him on their shoulders and carry him around the ground to roars of approval from the surging crowds. There is not a dry eye in the stadium. Everyone is lost in the memory of their personal favourite innings of his, and there are too many to count. He has given so much pleasure, so much entertainment over the years.
As for me, the next time I meet Piyush, like a true blue Dilliwala, I will snap to attention, salute him and say, with every last shred of sincerity at my command, ‘Sir Ji tussi great ho.’
