Wacky and wild, the ‘madman of advertising’ Prahlad Kakkar tells Srirekha Pillai why the joker is not to be underestimated

 
His self-deprecating sense of humour is contagious. So is the laughter. Madcap, wacky, insane, no matter what you call him, the original funny man of advertising Prahlad Kakkar is just what the doctor ordered for a bout of boredom. Much like the man himself, the advertisements helmed by his company Genesis have been marked by a rare joie de vivre. No wonder, MNCs like Unilever, PepsiCo and Britannia have communicated their brand stories through him.

For Brand Prahlad Kakkar, associated with a certain degree of irreverence, non-conformism, a carefully cultivated dishevelled look, the cowboy hat and Montecristo cigar, “life is all about living to the hilt”. His passion for life is reflected in his various roles: advertising guru, scuba diving instructor, restaurateur, cigar manufacturer and wine connoisseur. In fact, Kakkar and his wife Mitali founded Lacadives, India’s first scuba diving school, in Lakshadweep in 1995. A CMAS two-star scuba diving instructor, Kakkar, along with his wife and three sons Arnav, Varun and Anhjin, all named after the ocean, goes scuba diving and snorkelling in the oceans around the world and bonding with divers on terra firma. “While waiting at the conveyor belt at airports, I look out for divers, identifying them by the diving markings on luggage and diving watches on their wrists,” he says.

His restaurant business is an extension of Kakkar’s love for food, with the menu at all his restaurants personally handpicked and designed by him. The famed Irish coffee at Prithvi Café in Mumbai is a Kakkar legacy. Though cigars are a strict no-no for him following two bypass surgeries, Kakkar manufactures his own brand of cigars, christened Shergar after the famous racing horse from Aga Khan’s stables. Keen to match the high standards of his favourite Cuban brand Montecristo, Kakkar gets Shergar rolled in the Philippines, with tobacco sourced from the Dominican Republic.

Now, the adman who propelled Aishwarya Rai to the limelight—remember the line, ‘Hi, I’m Sanju, got a Pepsi?’—is gearing up for his Bollywood directorial debut Happy Anniversary. Fittingly enough, he is currently in advanced talks with Aishwarya Rai-Bachchan and Abhishek Bachchan for playing the lead roles.

When we meet Kakkar at his Lacadives office in Bandra in suburban Mumbai, he is clad in a crisp white kurta pyjama, sans his trademark hat. Quizzed about the missing hat, he laughs. “Though I have about 40 cowboy hats, I don’t feel the need to wear them all the time now. My ugly mug has been splashed enough times in the media and people recognise me all the same.” An unabashed lover of life and all things beautiful, he reveals that he has told his family that his final goodbye should be a celebration. “My life has been one big party. I will not be denied my last one!”

EXCERPTS FROM AN INTERVIEW

How would you define Brand Prahlad Kakkar?

The branding just happened over a period of time. It was this lady from the advertising industry who called me ‘enfant terrible’ for the first time, meaning someone like a child. A child blurts out the truth in complete innocence. I have always told the truth, speaking my heart out without bothering about the consequences, and in the process bruised many egos and stomped on many toes.

Is it a conscious effort to stay funny?

As a child I used to be extremely shy and reserved. As I grew up, I realised there is so much tragedy in our lives and all around us that there is no point crying, whining and cribbing all the time, which is what most people do. I decided that I am never going to feel sorry for myself. It’s great to admit to your stupid side and laugh at that. But, in order to do that, one needs to be humble and realise that one can make mistakes and that there is still a long way to go. Though it is great cracking jokes at everybody else, you need to start with yourself. Many think of me as an arrogant son of a bitch, because I am opinionated and screw their happiness.

You said you were a shy child. When did the transformation happen?

When I went to St. Thomas High School, a co-ed boarding school in Dehradun, I realised women were not just irritating sisters. To cohabit with them and to socialise, I needed to do something. Unlike most of the boys, I was pretty shy and awkward. I remember that during one of the annual school balls, the girls were sitting on one side and the boys on another. There was this water cooler in one corner, near the girls. The boys had to get up and ask the girls for a dance. There was this stunning girl who had grown up in East Africa and would speak in a singsong accent. I got up to ask her for a dance, but as I was walking across the hall, I chickened out. I felt the whole world was staring at me; my heart was beating fast and my palms were sweating. I was all of 13 then and scared she might say ‘no’. There I was in the middle, stranded, not knowing what to do. I didn’t dare to go back and make a joke of myself. So I dashed straight for the water cooler and drank three glasses of water, and came back to my seat. That’s how it all started.

How did you break the ice with women?

Most men, including me, have egos that are so fragile that we find it really difficult to take no for an answer. It takes a long time to come to terms with rejection. You can pretend to be really brave, but inside you are hurting. Early in life I realised that I didn’t have the looks. I couldn’t stand and pose and hope that girls would walk into my arms. So I learnt the art of charm. I used to read a lot and had a good grasp over the language. Slowly, I took to writing poetry to pen down my angst and feelings. The first casualty of being intense about a relationship is that everything becomes so serious. If the girl does not return your call or doesn’t meet you, the whole day is ruined. So whenever I was in love or feeling low, I would write. I realised that if I showed my poems to the girl, she would actually take me more seriously, rather than thinking of me as the funny-looking funny guy who is great to hang out with. Some of them were intelligent enough to figure out my feelings after reading the poems, and started looking at me differently. They realised that there was another person inside me, someone who is possibly insecure, sensitive and hurting. For a woman, it’s important to reach out and give solace to the man in some way.

Being a funny guy, what do you think are your advantages vis-à-vis a serious person?

I can hide my seriousness and angst behind the veneer of being funny [bursts out laughing]. There is an element of insanity in every creative person, and I feel funny guys create an illusion of themselves as being fools, thereby not giving others a chance to pull them down. On the other hand, if you are the serious kind, people feel you are too smart and try to pull you down with their crab mentality. Over a period of time, I’ve developed a set of skills that makes me sensitive to others and gives me extrasensory perception. When I walk into a room, it takes me exactly 20 seconds to figure out someone completely. It’s a great asset to know your environment. Because of my irreverence and funny side, people feel very comfortable with me, without realising the kind of information I may extract from them.

That’s really fascinating!

It is, indeed. Desmond Morris, the anthropologist, draws parallels in his books The Naked Ape and The Human Zoo between human behaviour and the way apes behave. He says human beings too exhibit the survival instincts of animals. It’s camouflaged generally and bared only when we are provoked. It’s good to figure out body language as it helps you pick up non-verbal cues.

What according to you is the quirky side of life?

Everything in life is quirky if you look at it from that point of view. Everybody looks at life like a tragedy. If you step back and imagine that it’s somebody else out there, it looks damn funny. I can be really dumb and do stupid things all the time. However, I can disassociate myself from that and laugh at it too. I still remember seeing this girl, whose father was in the Army. Though she was warned to keep off me, she would keep the door to her room open to let me in at night. One day her parents had gone out for dinner and she called me home early. Unfortunately, her parents came back early. I was stuck in her room, not knowing what to do and where to hide. Finally, I went for the balcony, over this dog that couldn’t stand my sight, and as I looked down from the balcony, I saw the watchman. I landed about 6 ft behind him, did a parachute roll and came up standing behind him. When he turned, I also turned, and said, “Something has fallen.” As he went running around the building searching for what had fallen, I dashed out of the gate. All this was done in a split second, but felt like slow motion to me then, because I was scared of what would happen to my girlfriend had her father discovered me.

What’s between you and the hat?

My ugly mug has been splashed in the media so many times that people have started recognising me now. However, there was a time when I used to stand in waitlisted queues for flights quite regularly. Once I wore a hat while waiting at the queue. The next time I came back wearing a hat again, the girl at the counter called out to me, ‘The gentleman in the hat, please come and collect your ticket.’ She jumped the queue for me because to her mind the fact that she was able to recollect me meant I was a frequent flier. I realised that by wearing a hat I could make it to last-minute flights. I spent almost eight years flying in and out of Vietnam, shooting for Unilever. Nobody else wanted to go there as it was a war-ravaged country. But being the adrenaline junkie I was, I read up all about the war and wanted to see the people who had cocked a snook at the Americans and rest of the world.

There is also another reason I wear a hat. While I was in Vietnam, there was a raid one night at the hotel where I was staying. I had come back from a party at 2 am and was very tired. Around 3 in the morning, there was constant banging on the door. I woke up, wore my hat and opened the door. There was this man standing there with an AK 47, along with the manager and a young lady, who seemed to be quite horrified to see me. The man with the gun asked, ‘Lady in room?’, and went in and looked under the bed, and in the toilet. He came out, apologised and was about to leave when I saw my cameraman behind the trio, jumping up and down and pointing downwards. I looked down, and guess what, I was wearing nothing. Quickly whipping off my hat, I covered my nakedness. A hat saved my dignity that day. The moral of the story is, never leave your home without a hat!

Food seems to be another great passion.

As looks were never going to be my forte, I realised quite early in life that I would have to find other ways to impress the opposite sex. Cooking was one of them. I believe in the motto that men who cook get laid more often than men who pump iron! That is going to be my epitaph.

Jokes apart, I got hooked on to cooking since I was a hunter in my younger days. Like all hunters, I was very particular about the way my game was cooked. I would rarely allow anybody else to cook my game. Slowly, I became quite instinctive about cooking. Today, I know more about it than most chefs. About 25 years back, I started Prithvi Café in Mumbai along with Jennifer Kendal Kapoor. That was the only gourmet restaurant in the city then. I introduced the Irish coffee there, which continues to be a favourite even now. When Jennifer passed away, I gave the café back to the Kapoors. Then I opened Papa Pancho, and later Tea Centre, both in Mumbai. I also run Sarson Da Saaga at the IMAX Adlabs theatre and a wine bar, Casa Amore, also in Mumbai. My businesses are never for minting money; they are my way of pursuing my passion.

You are also the pioneer of scuba diving in India.

My wife Mitali and I set up Lacadives, our scuba diving school in Kadmat Island in Lakshadweep when no one in India was diving. We have trained over 12,000 divers to date. With those divers training others, the momentum is set now. But when we set up the office, we were asked, ‘What’s the ROI [return on investment]?’ ROI can’t be calculated merely on the basis of money. I could not have given my children a better education. Every time you go into the ocean, it changes your life permanently. Out there you look so mortal that your whole perception of life changes drastically. When you are going down there, you don’t know whether you are going to come out alive. We have been swimming with sharks and whales; I can tell you that unlike their wild reputation, they are such unassuming creatures and rarely hurt human beings. Why would a shark want to chomp on a human body that is pumped with chemicals, toxins and all kinds of filth when he has such fresh spread freely available in the form of small, colourful fishes?

Happy Anniversary is said to be an anatomy of marriage. How did the idea take shape?

My producer Gaurang Doshi thought making a movie on marriages would be fun as all of us have our funny chronicles to share. It’s ironically funny that when you are getting into a marriage, you don’t realise what you are getting into. But when you see someone else planning to do the same, you warn them. We have narrated the concept to Aishwarya and Abhishek. Both of them liked it and are waiting for the final script.

Talking about marriages, how did you meet your wife, and who wears the pants at home?

I met Mitali for the first time when she came to my office with a friend. There was something about her that bowled me over. I cast her in a shampoo ad. She was about 22 then and I was 36 and commitment-phobic. She gave me an ultimatum one day, ‘Marry me or go to hell.’ I dashed off to Siliguri, where she was vacationing with her parents, and proposed to her. We got married in 1983, and though I got into the marriage believing I would be the boss in the relationship, I discovered that was not to be. Mitali is a quiet, strong woman and, slowly and insidiously, like all women do, cut off my balls. Today, I’m very much a joru ka ghulam!

How do you bond with your sons?

We bond over scuba diving. The ocean is a big part of our lives. My sons started diving when they were 12, while I started at 40. My eldest son is also a diving instructor; while the two younger ones have done more diving than most diving instructors. The eldest, Arnav, is a marine biologist, while Varun is studying law in London. The youngest, Anhjin, wants to be a photographer. Incidentally, he has also appeared in a Britannia ad with Sachin Tendulkar.

Tell us a little more about your childhood.

My mother was a major general’s daughter and a bit of a memsahib. My father was in the Army as well. They got separated when I was about nine. My mom, who had never worked in her life till then, packed off me and my sister Mandakini to Dehradun to stay with our grandparents while she took up a job in Delhi. Growing up in Dehradun, surrounded by nature, it was but natural that I took to outdoor activities like camping, mountaineering and horse-riding. My grandfather was a stickler for discipline and timing. I remember his orderly, a gurkha chap who would be waiting at the doorstep of my grandfather’s room with one finger in his shaving mug, as my grandfather wanted the water exactly at quarter to nine at a particular temperature. So, the orderly, depending on the temperature of the water, would either be blowing it to cool it down or keeping it closed to keep it warm.

My grandmother was a brilliant lady. She was one of the first lady doctors of Maharashtra and a year senior to my grandfather at Grant Medical College, though my grandfather’s family thought she was just a dai. They ran off and got married as their parents didn’t approve of the match. They had quite an adventurous life, with my grandfather taking charge of the Rangoon Medical Centre. He was the last serving officer before the Japanese came during the Second World War, and walked back to Imphal from Rangoon, even as everybody gave him up for dead.

It’s said that as one ages, physical intimacy takes a backseat. How does one work around it?

That’s why you need variety, one wife and many girlfriends! Most men don’t understand that the wife just needs a reassurance of your love for her and a validation of her importance in your life. This is something that has to be genuinely felt and demonstrated on a daily basis. If you can demonstrate every single day of your life to your wife that she is the No. 1 person in your life, she doesn’t care a rat about No. 2, No. 3 and No. 4!

Photo: Genesis
Featured in Harmony — Celebrate Age Magazine
April 2014