'His passing is not just the loss of a legend, but the loss of a guiding light'

Piyush was the captain of almost my entire advertising journey. He had a rare gift — he truly understood people. Whether it was a slick city executive or a sun-baked worker from small-town India, he saw everyone with the same curiosity and the same fond amusement. That’s why a film like ‘Chal Meri Luna’ or a campaign like Asian Paints’ ‘Har Ghar Kuch Kehta Hai’ felt so real and so deeply Indian. He wrote that line, and then delivered it in his own wonderfully resonant voice. As a writer his voice was sharp; as a human being, it was warm. You don’t often find that combination.

And then there was Fevicol — the brand closest to his heart. ‘Fevicol ka mazboot jod’, the Fevicol bus, ‘Dum Laga Ke Haisha’ — these weren’t just ads, they became part of our cultural landscape. Piyush always said, “Common sense is the best strategy,” and Fevicol was the best proof of that — simple, rooted ideas told with absolute conviction.

He also taught an entire generation how to write for film. If a young writer narrated a long-winded 30-second script, Piyush would quip, “Interval kab ayega?” That one line taught us more about timing, brevity and audience attention than any workshop ever could.

Piyush believed every creative person needs a ‘bouncing board’ — someone who can cheer an idea and help it grow, but also be honest enough to say, “No, this one doesn’t fly.” He lived that principle every day. He laughed loudly, got fiercely angry when required, and teared up easily when something touched him. Whatever he felt, he felt with his whole heart.

For Piyush, ideas were almost sacred — and for those of us who worked with him, his passing is not just the loss of a legend, but the loss of a guiding light. Yet, like a Fevicol bond, his influence — the coming together of his thinking, humour and emotional truth — woh jod tootega nahin.