Bawa Musings
Jiyo cynicism
The cheeky advertising campaign is cute, smart, but little more
The Ilm-e-Khshnoomists dismiss all talk of demographic decline as alarmist and maintain that the second coming of the Lord, as Soshyos, will reverse the trend. Soshyos has apparently inspired some smart Parsi copywriters from Madison Advertising to produce the Jiyo Parsi campaign to make Parsis produce more babies. Jiyo Parsi is the Rs 10 crore project of the Government of India and Parzor, a Zoroastrian think tank, to increase the Parsi population.
Some of the advertisements in the campaign are passé, but a few are brilliant. When the world is being urged to use condoms for safe and responsible sex, the campaign urges Parsis not to do so. When survival is at stake, who is worried about HIV? Like the Vatican, we too must frown upon condoms, albeit for different reasons. Not using condoms will not increase fertility rates. When you are firing blanks, bullet proof vests are hardly needed. The haplessness of our situation is evident from the fact that the same government which has been crying itself hoarse to limit the family size is now partner in an initiative to abjure family planning. Non-Parsi readers, unaware of our demographic decline, will be baffled to see the Ministry of Family Welfare urging Parsis not to use contraceptives.
Some of the advertisements in the campaign are passé, but a few are brilliant. When the world is being urged to use condoms for safe and responsible sex, the campaign urges Parsis not to do so. When survival is at stake, who is worried about HIV? Like the Vatican, we too must frown upon condoms, albeit for different reasons. Not using condoms will not increase fertility rates. When you are firing blanks, bullet proof vests are hardly needed. The haplessness of our situation is evident from the fact that the same government which has been crying itself hoarse to limit the family size is now partner in an initiative to abjure family planning. Non-Parsi readers, unaware of our demographic decline, will be baffled to see the Ministry of Family Welfare urging Parsis not to use contraceptives.
The campaign wants the mumma obsessed Parsi boy to look at other women. But mumma herself is not too unhappy at her Rusi not marrying. Daughters-in-law are such a pain, aren’t they? Mumma cooks great, never nags, does not like shopping or vacations, is not bothered about her son’s indifferent personal hygiene and loves him unconditionally. Why would Rusi ever listen to the Jiyo advertisement’s exhortation to break up with mummy?
The campaign decries the propensity of Parsi girls to look only for highly successful Parsi boys. If you are Nergish Chargeman, then don’t imagine you are Nicole Kidman, the advertisement seems to suggest; aspire for Ratan Khambatta, not Tata. This appears to be the single largest factor for rejection, according to the matrimonial bureaus. Girls are not ready to even look at boys who earn less than 50 grand a month. And boys who do, find non-Parsi girls to be less aggressive and better marriage material. What can the poor copywriter do about this mismatch of aspirations?
Not surprisingly, the most brilliant advertisement has caused the maximum consternation. A Parsi girl, standing outside the Seth Rustomji Nusserwanji Rustom Faramna Agiary at Dadar, stares at a road sign which reads Hindu Colony. Your comfort zone will be invaded by strangers soon if you don’t procreate. Communal, xenophobic, in poor taste, crossing the line, say the critics. Not really. The advertisement plays on primal fears that this most cherished Parsi enclave will lose its ethos and character. Somewhat insensitive, maybe. The advertisement could have avoided the road sign and yet sent out the same message. However, individual decisions are not made out of collective fears. What will certainly work is economics. Help to the extent of five lakh rupees for IVF treatment is truly tempting. Add liberal subsidies for a second child and one will see results. The campaign does not sufficiently play on behavioral economics. Plan your pregnancy without worry, we shall finance the process and the product, is what the campaign should convey.
Should this campaign be restricted to only the Parsi print media and online is the question. We exist to be fair sport for our neighbors. There is no harm if the advertisements appear in the mainstream print media. Parsis will be perceived as cuter, unique, vulnerable and deserving — to be preserved like valuable artefacts. This may result in greater goodwill for the community.
The exercise may not result in extra babies or more Parsi marriages. Nevertheless, it will make us stop and think about what we are up against. The situation is so grim that even the most incorrigible optimist will give up. Perhaps that’s why even the Ilm-e-Khshnoomists spend their nights poring over esoteric tomes trying to decipher when the Lord will come again, instead of doing something about it themselves. Thank God, they are a micro minority. Jiyo optimism!
The campaign decries the propensity of Parsi girls to look only for highly successful Parsi boys. If you are Nergish Chargeman, then don’t imagine you are Nicole Kidman, the advertisement seems to suggest; aspire for Ratan Khambatta, not Tata. This appears to be the single largest factor for rejection, according to the matrimonial bureaus. Girls are not ready to even look at boys who earn less than 50 grand a month. And boys who do, find non-Parsi girls to be less aggressive and better marriage material. What can the poor copywriter do about this mismatch of aspirations?
Not surprisingly, the most brilliant advertisement has caused the maximum consternation. A Parsi girl, standing outside the Seth Rustomji Nusserwanji Rustom Faramna Agiary at Dadar, stares at a road sign which reads Hindu Colony. Your comfort zone will be invaded by strangers soon if you don’t procreate. Communal, xenophobic, in poor taste, crossing the line, say the critics. Not really. The advertisement plays on primal fears that this most cherished Parsi enclave will lose its ethos and character. Somewhat insensitive, maybe. The advertisement could have avoided the road sign and yet sent out the same message. However, individual decisions are not made out of collective fears. What will certainly work is economics. Help to the extent of five lakh rupees for IVF treatment is truly tempting. Add liberal subsidies for a second child and one will see results. The campaign does not sufficiently play on behavioral economics. Plan your pregnancy without worry, we shall finance the process and the product, is what the campaign should convey.
Should this campaign be restricted to only the Parsi print media and online is the question. We exist to be fair sport for our neighbors. There is no harm if the advertisements appear in the mainstream print media. Parsis will be perceived as cuter, unique, vulnerable and deserving — to be preserved like valuable artefacts. This may result in greater goodwill for the community.
The exercise may not result in extra babies or more Parsi marriages. Nevertheless, it will make us stop and think about what we are up against. The situation is so grim that even the most incorrigible optimist will give up. Perhaps that’s why even the Ilm-e-Khshnoomists spend their nights poring over esoteric tomes trying to decipher when the Lord will come again, instead of doing something about it themselves. Thank God, they are a micro minority. Jiyo optimism!
Berjis M. Desai, managing partner of J. Sagar Associates, advocates and solicitors, is a writer and community activist.
◆ ◆ ◆
From the archive