TALKING STRAIGHT
Sandeep Goyal’s take on the advertising world in India is much like his own persona: hard-driving and relentless, but also somewhat simplistic
Like most incestuous creative industries, advertising has its share of folklore: tales of valiant fights for the creative cause, people being stabbed, and fame and fortunes being reaped. These are the tales that get told and reinforced at bars where those from the industry gather to lick their wounds and spin stories of out-smarting others. Advertising professional Sandeep Goyal’s Konjo — Fighting Spirit could well be a series of stories told at one such dive.
Konjo (Japanese for ‘fighting spirit, a combination of willpower, guts, and tenacity’) is the story of Goyal’s journey as an advertising entrepreneur. The book kicks off from the time he left his job as CEO of the Zee network and carries on to how he wooed and successfully partnered the Japanese advertising giant Dentsu’s foray into India, before cashing out as a very rich man.
Goyal’s reputation as a straight shooting, pugnacious ad man precedes him and he is true to form here. He takes on some big personalities in the advertising industry, names them and tells you exactly what he thinks of their actions, while also celebrating people who he believes stood by him. He wears his likes, dislikes and beliefs on his sleeve and his telling has all the subtlety of a robust Punjabi man proudly recounting how he conquered the world — who stood in his way, how he outwitted them, and who helped him in his good fight.
Packed with stories about pitches won, interesting characters met and some mildly amusing incidents, the book has enough to be a quick, gossipy read. While those in the advertising and associated businesses will be able to relate to the incidents narrated in a snap, there is enough here to make it an easy read for non-advertising people as well — given the spectrum of anecdotes that includes creating the campaign to sell Delhi as a city before the Commonwealth Games to cracking deals with Sony during the first edition of IPL.
What is also interesting is Goyal’s description of the traditional Japanese approach to the advertising business; the caution they display, the importance placed on ‘nemawashi’ or consensusbased decision making and the deference to hierarchy. In that respect, this book tries to fill a gap by throwing some light on a world that isn’t much written about, given the overwhelming mind space that Anglo-American advertising groups occupy. More importantly, it contributes towards creating a narrative of the Indian advertising industry which is woefully inadequately documented.
But the main problem with interesting stories told over drinks late in the night is that they often can’t be recalled the next morning. Ditto with Konjo; it’s casual, fast, and anecdotal but never really attempts to go deeper into issues that shout for attention — like the cosy club of hoary advertising agencies that Goyal refers to. We are not even indulged with a more nuanced view of some very contentious characters that populate the book. He sums up Sheila Dixit by describing her “vision and farsightedness” or Lalit Modi as “Lalit is Lalit — his needless angst kept me from playing a more visible part in the IPL”. Unfortunately, Goyal chooses not to delve too deep. And that’s a pity because he has a big bag of interesting stories that could have been mined far more adroitly. In that sense, Konjo is true to the perception that many people in the advertising business have of its author — hard-driving, relentless but also somewhat simplistic.