I woke up one day with a song stuck in my head. For the longest time, I couldn't recall where it was from. After two hours of obsessive tinkering on YouTube, I found that what I was remembering was one of the catchiest tunes from a Star Ship commercial of the 90s that would appear on BTV. Ah, the classic Bangla commercials with their catchy jingles and memorable punch lines—who can forget them even after all these years!

Remember “Maachher raja Ilish, ar battir raja Phillips!”? There was a time when everyone was saying it, from the kid at home to the shopkeeper down the street. The story unfolded on a typical day at a village where a mother wants to show her affection and hospitality to her son-in-law. She sends out her son to get some fresh fish, who brought home some hilsa for his brother-in-law. Sprawled on the floor was a delicious platter of food, but the lighting in the area was so poor that the son-in-law expressed his dissatisfaction as he could not see the fish bones. The mother instructs her son to replace the bulb with the one used in their boithhok khana, and once installed, the son-in-law exclaimed in pure delight, “Ki tamsha! Shawb fokfoka”—and, of course, made the famous proclamation likening the king of fish to the king of bulbs, Phillips.

This ad was so loved that I am curious to find the statistics of Phillips' sales from that period. I bet it spiked quite a bit, especially in the rural areas. Few would debate the affections of a proud mother-in-law towards her daughter's husband—a theme quite relatable to our people in both urban and rural areas. Tapping into these simple human (and in this case Bangali) emotions ensures the success of a good advertisement.

Some of our jingles are also worthy of mention. The unforgettable melodies in Olympic Battery (“Alo alo beshi alo”) and Star Ship Condensed Milk (“Beshi shaad, beshi laabh, beshi cup cha!”) were reflective of the youthful spirit of the time—a little grungy, a little bohemian, and very much the cassette-tape generation! However, my personal favourite was the one from Meril Fresh Gel, with its lively theme and popping sound effect of water droplets. The visuals were also very intelligent, as it showed off the toothpaste's colours and flavours, each with a flash of fun and specially characterised graphics, including one cleverly drawn out of Piet Mondrian's works.

The storyline for a lot of commercials involved the innocence of young love, the pursuit of your beloved, coming of age, and transitions. There was a time that we, the city-dwellers, were going through a big change. The city was expanding northward and a lot of young couples were moving out to an apartment of their own. This was a time when the joint family started dissipating. Childhood homes were being left behind and such has been the case even in my own life. Leaving behind my Dadubari-Nanubari was utterly painful and this pain of nostalgia was a very common theme during this time of transition in the urban community. How the child grows up and reminisces about old times—running around, playing with grandparents, getting scolded, flirting with the neighbouring boy or girl, studying in the evenings, family gatherings—and comes back to the present life in a smaller apartment. Even through the changes in time, there was the familiarity of the product weaving the new with the old. Companies such as Red Cow, Jui Narikel Tel, Danish Condensed Milk, Berger Paints, and others had used such themes, and it is interesting to note that it was during this period of change. Unsurprisingly, this was also a time when there were quite a few ads about new residential areas opening up, like Shinepukur, which entailed a spark of independence for the young working couple.

Speaking of reminiscing, why do I not see saree ads anymore? Whatever happened to the catchy tunes of Pakiza Print, Shundori Print, Nandini Print? Whatever happened to the adorable, quirky wife sticking a note at the back of her husband's jacket for the world to remind him to buy her a Bou Rani Print Saree? Honestly, I miss them the most, especially since I see increasingly less young women wear sarees these days, which perhaps means these ads need to make a comeback!

I truly miss the depiction of the typical Bangali Romoni in our commercial narratives. The young girl with her knee-length hair, her teep, and her anchal spread like wings in the air, sometimes speaking out to the audience in a husky, alluring, highly-feminine voice. During my childhood, Bipasha, Shomi, Bijori, and Mimi were some of the popular ladies dominating the silver screen, stealing the hearts of men and women alike. A particular Lux ad with both Bipasha and Shomi exemplified how young women looked up to them—they were the faces of confidence and success, and the epitome of feminine Bangali beauty.

Before them, often in black and white, the silver screen was charmed by the likes of Shuborna and Diti. That generation of artists had a level of sophistication that remains unparalleled, even today.

Saiq'a S Chowdhury is an animator and illustrator.