THE CADBURY GIRL
Well, I have been meaning to write this since the passing of Mr. Piyush Pandey, the advertising wizard of Ogilvy. Over the past few days, social media has been flooded with the unforgettable ads he created—each one a reminder of how he shaped our collective nostalgia.
For me they tugged on a distant memory from about three decades ago. The Cadbury girl! She adorned the wall of my dull and drab hostel room. I had bought the poster from the local co-operative store for 60 bucks (quite a fortune at that time). That was my first year in the hostel. We put up all kinds of posters to cheer up the room and also to cover hundreds of nail holes created by the previous occupants of our rooms (the nail holes could be so many that sometimes it felt like the Count of Monte Cristo was trying to dig a tunnel out of the hostel). The poster added much-needed color to the dull walls. Anyone who walked into my room would instantly get fascinated by this girl who had the ability to break into a dance in a stadium full of people.
The Cadbury Girl in the poster was everything that I was not. Probably that’s why she was on my wall. I had grown up in a very small town, then moved to Mumbai for a couple of years, and then again moved to a very small town for my medical education. While the Cadbury girl was the epitome of “carefree,” I think at that time I was the antithesis of it. I was alone (read single), unsure, underconfident, and cash-strapped. I was still trying to find friends. The academic pressure was high. The nights felt long and dreary without the comfort of having my family around me. I missed my old life, and I was anxious about the future. The weight of expectations was bearing me down in those initial days. The adjustment was more difficult than I had thought.
But then, as always, life goes on. Over time, I added to the number of nail holes in the walls of my room (I was stung by the Count of Monte Cristo syndrome too). And then covered the walls with many other posters to cover those additional nail holes. I even tried filling the holes with M-seal and managed some wall art by sneaking in some paint without the permission of our warden.
The Cadbury girl on my wall eventually faded, and the corners of the posters gradually got rumpled. By then I had completed my MBBS and was ready to move back to the big city from the small town. I was a little bit surer of myself, and the doctor tag added a dash of confidence. I had started earning a stipend, so I wasn’t cash-strapped anymore. Most importantly in those five years, I found friends for a lifetime. Friends who are my extended family and friends with whom I intend to live through my old age. Also, I am not single anymore.
The Cadbury Girl was my companion throughout my hostel days. I will be honest in saying that even today I am not truly “carefree” like her, but somewhere along the way, I think I absorbed a part of her spirit—a reminder to find joy in the little moments and to dance through life, even when the music isn’t playing.
Perhaps that’s what growing up really is—learning to carry a bit of that light and dance with you through the years. Maybe at the end of the day, it’s all about finding the Cadbury girl inside us!
PS: Image credit- Google