By Kashmeera Sambamurthy

A round face, an outsized moustache, a striped Indian turban and a long sharp nose personality is seen flying on a magic carpet smoking a bubble hookah. He exudes hospitality, graciousness and self-confidence.

This is not a figment of our imagination. This was the visualisation of Sorab Kaikushroo (Bobby) Kooka, who was the commercial director of Air India in the 1940s. The portly oriental image would soon take the form of a bowing Maharajah and become the face of Air-India in the early 1950s.

In the words of advertising veteran, Gerson Da Cunha, Kooka reached out to his friend, Umesh Murdeshwar Rao, an artist at J. Walter Thompson (JWT) who used to be seated in the sixth floor of Lakshmi building, in South Mumbai. The brief Rao had to follow was to create an oriental potentate that highlighted how relaxed an Air-India traveller is and how royal the services are. This was in 1946. As a result, the mascot was born on an in-flight memo pad. The luxuriant moustache that the mascot sported was modelled after Kooka’s friend, Syed Wajid Ali, a Pakistani industrialist, according to Air-India collector, a website for the amateur hobbyist, that contains information and images of all kinds of Air-India memorabilia from airplane photographs and coasters to first flight covers and menu cards.

A marketing maverick with a sense of humour, Kooka would dream up several of the topical themes that the mascot would eventually represent on hoardings, put up at Mumbai’s posh Kemps Corner.

According to marketing legend, this was the modus operandi of Bobby Kooka. This was a scene from the late-1960s. At 9:16 am, he would dial the number of Uttara Parikh, a young officer from his team. (Parikh retired in 1999 as the airline’s deputy commercial director – advertising, special promotions and product development.)

Parikh would immediately connect with Bahadur, an artist with JWT. He would come rushing on his bike within 15 minutes. A quick briefing session by Kooka would be followed by creating the rough sketch of the visuals. Once they were approved, he would rush back to his office to do the artwork. Meanwhile, Parikh would connect with Creado who would hand paint the artwork on the hoarding.

It was only after the 1970s, the artworks began appearing outside the Air India building in Nariman Point, when the airline shifted its base to the majestic headquarters.

Old timers recall that when Tata Airlines was rechristened as Air-India in 1946, the airlines faced stiff competition from the rivals. A mascot, which could highlight India with charm and dignity, was introduced. Recalling the words of Kooka at the American Association of Advertising Agencies on November 3, 1965, California, Parikh says, “We have an emblem. It’s this. We call him the Maharajah for want of a better description. But his blood isn’t blue. He looks like royalty, but he isn’t royal. He portrays hospitality and service. We like him, because he is typically Indian, he can’t be copied by the opposition.”

However, the Maharajah also had its share of controversies. In February 1960, the airline was going to introduce its first jet aircraft, Boeing 707 into its fleet. The Maharajah is seen sitting on a rocking chair, knitting in a female attire and the caption on the Kemps Corner hoarding said, ‘Can you keep a secret?’

Next day, the British deputy high commissioner in Bombay dialled the head of JWT, Peter Fielden. He expressed his annoyance over how the advertisement was in poor taste. The high commission had misunderstood that Air-India was taking a swipe at Queen Elizabeth, who was expecting a child around that time. The hoarding was immediately withdrawn.

Be it his warm engagement in a Sumo wrestling match where the hoarding says, ‘You too can Sumo at Tokyo’, or be it his painting being done on a poster by the Mona Lisa which says, ‘Vinci Winces!’, one can see the Maharajah blend with the destination seamlessly. His chutzpah, the ability to add humor in order to highlight the essence of that situation is one of the reasons the mascot was hailed amongst the most successful in the Indian advertising industry.

Much before the world had got familiar with the concept of in-house agencies, Air-India ran a studio. Parikh explains that the posters and giveaways are the work of the in-house artists. Jal Cowasji, who was the head of Air India’s publicity department was instrumental in putting Air-India on the map. At one point, the art studio contained seven artists who designed a large number of destination posters, display items, giveaways and exhibition materials. There was also an unwritten code and a style guide that everyone adhered to. The Maharajah would never have his eyes open. He would never be shown without his turban and he would never show his teeth. With people’s assumption over the Maharajah being able to do anything, in all the 500 avatars that he portrayed, the rules were broken just once or twice.

Post the 1970s, the Maharajah was drawn with his eyes open and the impression was far removed from his original avatar. The Greek symbol, Centaur, which was the logo of the airlines, was rebranded into the sun. It was in the late 1980s. Following this, the Maharajah went into a brief period of exile. This aspect of modernisation did not reap desired fruits and the Maharajah was reborn in 1991. With times seeming favorable for the airline, and with the Tata group back in the saddle, the Maharajah could be getting the ideal tailwinds. Probably he waits with bated breath to say, ‘There is an Air about India’.

(BE Saal Baad is a new series that looks back in time)